by Amy Lane
“What did Rabbi Watson say to you?”
“I don’t know, never met him.”
“You did too—you were talking to him right before you caught Anthony.”
The blank silence on Jackson’s side of the car was not reassuring. “That was the rabbi?”
“Yeah.”
“He was sneaking a cigarette. Isn’t that… I don’t know. Unholy or something?”
“Only in California. What did he say?”
“Come to the Jewish side, they have cookies.”
Anthony chortled, and Ellery tried not to smirk. “Seriously.”
“No! I am being serious. He said I should come in and sit with you because there were cookies afterwards.”
Ellery let out a frustrated breath and rolled down the window. “What am I ordering again?”
Anthony apparently wanted two of everything, including a giant shake, and Jackson wanted a cheeseburger. The end.
Ellery ordered him a double-cheese. And cookies.
And a salad for himself, because not even McDonald’s could make lettuce fattening, right?
He dropped them off at the K Street Mall with a bag full of takeout trash and some reservations, but Jackson assured him they could walk to the firm on their own.
“I’m leaving the bug with you, okay?” Jackson tucked it in Ellery’s coat pocket as it rested over the seat. “Make sure you bring it to Crystal. If she can’t magic it, somebody she knows can.”
“Yeah, got it.” Ellery grabbed his hand as he was climbing out of the car. What the hell—the kid was apparently more enlightened than the rest of the world. “Look—you’re not weak. I’ll take care of the niceties, but I need you with this case. I’m not running the bad guys down alone.”
A corner of Jackson’s plush mouth lifted. “You’re slow,” he admitted.
“Yeah. I’ll see you at the office.”
Jackson squeezed his hand and winked and then opened the door for Anthony so they could load onto the sidewalk.
“Put the phones on my card,” Ellery called, but he wasn’t surprised when Jackson said “Fuck no!” and slammed the door.
A Little Wobbly
“YOU SAID a bad word!” Anthony’s outrage seemed to completely overlook all the bad words either of them had employed since the moment Jackson spotted him on his hands and knees, trying to find a place to put the little electronic tracker or whatever on Ellery’s car.
“I did.” Jackson kept his eyes open in all directions as he started for the mall entrance, making sure Anthony was tight on his heels.
“But that guy’s your boyfriend!”
Well, couldn’t deny it. “He is.”
“But he was trying to pay for your stuff!”
Jackson slowed his pace, more for Anthony than for himself. Hopefully. “I can pay for my own damned stuff!”
“But if that was his car, he’s loaded! Jesus, mister—”
“Call me Jackson.”
“Whatever. If you’re too stupid to take something like that for free, I’m gonna call you dumbass.”
Jackson turned around and lowered his shoulders so he and junior here could see eye to eye. “Look, kid—did I or did I not bust you for taking money from a guy for something that might have gotten you killed? Think this through. Guy offers you money, you go do his thing. You get caught. Guy goes to your friend and says, ‘Tell me about this kid,’ and your friend says, ‘I didn’t see no kid,’ ’cause he’s got your back. And what happens next?”
Anthony’s face crumpled, and Jackson felt like shit. “He’s dead.”
“Yeah.” Jackson’s voice dropped, and he tried not to be too much of a dick. “Nothing’s for free, Anthony. And Ellery knows how I feel about shit being for free, so he was… was reminding me of something.”
“What?” His lower lip was wobbling, and he wasn’t giving up. Jackson had to hand it to him—he was sort of a trouper.
“He was reminding me that he was there for me. Money I got, but someone to have my back is something I’m getting used to. He was reminding me he had my back. And I was reminding him that I could take care of myself.”
“Why didn’t you guys just say that? That was stupid.”
“You ever gonna take money from someone for free again?” Jackson asked, and Anthony bit his lip and shook his head.
“No.”
“Ellery’s offering me something I’ve never had in my life. And I know he means it, and I know he can make it stick, but it’s hard for me to take it. You get that?”
“Yeah.” Anthony looked away. “I don’t want to see another foster family if they aren’t gonna want me.”
“Yeah. How attached were you to this one?”
Anthony shrugged. “They were okay. But….”
Jackson let out a sigh. “You had a thing for the mom and the dad, the ones who would love you and take care of you and want you to come back more than they were glad you were leaving.”
“Yeah.” Anthony looked away. “Pipe dream, huh?”
“No.” Jackson’s chest suddenly ached for this kid. “Look. I got strings. I know people all over the city. I can’t make promises because if I break this one it would really suck, but I can promise I’ll try. When this all shakes out, I’ll try to make sure you’re in a place you love. And in the meantime, I’m going to set you up with someone out of this fucking city. Someone who knows how to love kids and how to take care of them. You’ll only be there temporary, like, but it’ll be like—”
“Like Disneyland,” the kid said, a sad smile on his mouth. “Like… kids told me. They went. And it was perfect. And it was all made up, but for a little while they got to see what it would look like if the world was perfect.”
“Yeah,” Jackson said, heart hurting a little more. Part of him was sneering—it was more than he’d ever had as a child. But most of him was wishing this kid could live in Disneyland for his whole life. “Come on. I’m going to get us three phones and call my own personal cavalry. You ready?”
Anthony nodded, and Jackson went in to wrangle with the store guy about burner phones.
WHEN THEY came out, Ellery’s new phone in his pocket, Anthony clutching his brightly colored phone case like it was pure gold, Jackson couldn’t help but smile. The kid had put up a good front, but Jackson knew it was probably the most expensive thing he’d ever owned.
“This isn’t for free,” he’d cautioned. “I know it seems like it, but you’re going to owe me some shit when I buy this for you. You understand?”
Anthony had looked at the phone with pure covetousness. “What’s the price?” he’d rasped.
“I’m tracking it. I will know where you are. So when my friend comes here to get you, you’re not really leaving my sight. And if my brother or his wife, Rhonda, or his two kids tell me you are being a royal pain in the ass, I shut off everything but 911 and my number, you hear me? Right now you’ve got a pay-by-the-month data plan, so you can play games and shit. One whiff of you being an asshole, that becomes a radioactive paperweight. Understand?”
He’d actually stroked the bright, clean glass with a grimy finger. “I understand.”
“And one more thing.”
Oh, that kid’s eyes were big limpid pools of pure greed. “What?”
“You need to bathe as often as they tell you. Got it?”
He’d smiled, showing all his gunky teeth.
“And brush your teeth.”
The kid nodded, and Jackson thought that was as good as it was going to get.
They left the mall, and Jackson pointed the kid toward Eighth and L Street and dialed his brother’s number by heart.
“K, it’s me.”
“Jackson? You’re okay?” Well, lots of times Jackson hadn’t been.
Jackson grimaced. “Yeah, K—fine. No worries. I just need a favor.”
Kaden’s resonant “Hunh” practically vibrated the phone. “A favor?”
Well, yeah. Kaden was not, in the strictest sense, Jackson’s brother.
But his mother had taken Jackson in when Jackson had been a surly teenager—like Anthony, but without the kid’s charm. Jackson, Kaden, Kaden’s sweetheart, Rhonda, and Kaden’s sister, Jade, had kept themselves safe in one of the shittiest neighborhoods in the city by sticking together. The day Kaden and Jade’s mom, Toni, had passed away had been one of the darkest days of Jackson’s life—and that included the three times he’d almost died since then.
But Kaden had known Jackson since the sixth grade. Everything Jackson had learned about not taking shit for free, he’d learned before he and Kaden had even spoken.
Jackson had once pilfered candy bars every day for a month, to pay Jade and Kaden back for being his friends. They’d made him stop before they told their mother, but through all the years after that, through his on-again, off-again with Jade, through Kaden and Rhonda’s two kids and all the shit in between, Jackson had never asked for a damned thing.
Until now.
Jackson spilled the story as he and Anthony made their way down toward the courthouse on L and the law offices of Pfeist, Langdon, Harrelson, and Cooper, where Ellery practiced law and Jackson ran his ass off.
Well, they each had their strengths.
“Wait,” Kaden commanded. “Go back.”
“To which part?” Jackson kept his hand on Anthony’s shoulder, and while it should have been oppressive, he was getting the vibe from Anthony that having someone rein him in like that was mostly a luxury.
“The part where you sat outside a church—”
“A synagogue.”
“A place of God, you asshole. And you didn’t go in. What? You’re too good for God now? You moved into a fancy house with some rich lawyer and you’re too goddamned good for God?”
Jackson gave a sudden tug on Anthony’s shoulder, earning him an indignant glare. “Sorry, Anthony, my brother’s being an asshole. No, Kaden, I’m not too goddamned good for God. And you’re missing the point. The point is—”
“The point is, you thinking you’re not good enough for God or the fancy rich lawyer, and the point is, you can kiss my wide black ass!”
“Your ass ain’t wide,” Jackson said staunchly. “And the point is, a kid tried to plant a bug on my car, and then his friend got shot. The kid’s in trouble, Kaden—police won’t help—”
“Because why?”
“Because they’re not freaked-out and paranoid like we are.” Kaden had been unjustly accused of killing a policeman that summer—the wounds were raw and wide. “But I’m calling you from a burner phone, because I think they got a spy or a bug at Ellery’s office.”
“You want me to take the kid?” Kaden sounded genuinely surprised.
“Could you?” Jackson asked, pained. “I was going to call AJ and have him run the boy up to you. He’s been… restless.” AJ was recovering from drug addiction—and a horrific experience that he and Jackson had shared in a way. Jackson had opened up half his old duplex as sort of a halfway recovery home for those who had been addicted or imprisoned, and AJ was one of the residents. Sad, fragile, and at loose ends in his life, Jackson had been able to get AJ a job waiting tables near the duplex, but he’d been keeping a weather eye out for the boy as well. A trip up to the hills of the Sierra Nevada would give him focus—he’d told Jackson his days off were the worst.
“I’ll take him,” Kaden said, lowering his voice kindly. “That room we’ve been saving for you will sleep him and AJ. I’ve got some work up here they can do.”
Kaden had taken a shine to AJ that Christmas, and AJ, still smarting from being kicked out of the house when he’d come out, had talked wistfully of Kaden’s family as well.
Jackson grunted. “Fine. That’s fine. That’ll work. It’s not permanent—”
“You mad because they’re taking your room?” Kaden wheedled, and Jackson had to take a deep breath.
“I’ve got a room. A half a room, but I got a room.” Dammit. He’d given up the duplex to move in with Ellery, and that had been fine—more than fine. Waking up next to Ellery for the past months had been the safest he’d ever felt in his life.
But it was like the trip to the synagogue. It was a beautiful dream, being with this one person who loved him. He could warm himself by that dream and wake up in its bed every day and every night—but he wasn’t sure if he could ever really inhabit that dream.
The spare room at Kaden’s place had been his theoretical escape hatch. Not that he’d need one. But he had one. The light in front of them changed, and Jackson looked both ways before nudging Anthony to proceed. The kid went trustingly—Jackson had somehow become somebody who would look out for him, and Jackson had seen… he’d seen….
He closed his eyes against how the kid’s friend had been killed and effectively tortured. So many awful things behind his eyes—he didn’t need that as a prod.
“So it’s okay if we give up your room and you can admit you’re in a relationship like a grown man,” Kaden prompted.
“Of course it is. I didn’t really expect you to keep a real room for me in the first place,” Jackson retorted. No. He hadn’t. But he’d been almost tearful that Kaden had made sure he’d have one after Kaden and his family moved from Sacramento to the foothills.
“Jackson—you know we’re always your family, right?”
Absurd question for a grown-assed man. “Course, K. I appreciate this. You’re doing me a solid. I’ll call AJ. I need to be off the phone before we get to the law firm. Expect them sometime this afternoon—and I owe you.”
K grunted. “Jackson?”
“Yeah?”
“You want to pay me back?”
“Anything.” K’s family was Jackson’s heart. Without K and Jade, he wouldn’t have enough heart in him to even try to love Ellery.
“Next time that nice lawyer man takes you to church—”
“A synagogue—”
“I don’t care if it’s a mosque, a monastery, or a motherfucking cathedral. The next time that man wants to take you to a holy place and thank a higher power for you, go with him. And thank God personally, from me, that you have somebody who loves you like you deserve.”
Augh! That nice man who’d been sneaking a cigarette—the rabbi—had tried to tell him something like this too. And Jackson had responded by setting up four units, complete with whirling lights, across the street.
“Couldn’t I just help you clear your property?” Jackson asked plaintively.
“I’m gonna say no.” Jackson recognized that tone—Kaden could be surprisingly stubborn.
“Fine. Yes. Whatever. I’ll go to church.”
He spotted a Starbucks as they were walking, empty because it was Saturday after ten, and he tugged on the kid again. No, he wasn’t hungry, but he did need more coffee. He also needed another ten minutes because he didn’t want to end up at the firm while he was still talking to Kaden.
“Good,” Kaden said. “The more you talk to God on this side of the fence, the less likely you’ll have to hop over to finish your business.”
Jackson grunted. “You and Ellery worry too much.”
“I’m fucking serious, Jackson. If I have to walk into that hospital one more goddamned time to see you looking like death, I swear to God it will kill me.”
Jackson took a deep breath. Yeah. Fine. Good reason. “Look—all the more reason to get the kid away from us until we figure this out.”
“I hear you. I’ll tell Rhonda to be ready for him. Does he have clothes?”
“Hold on.” Jackson caught Anthony’s eyes—the kid was looking at the big buildings in the legal district like he’d never seen anything like it. Apparently he’d spent most of his life in the suburbs. “Anthony, you got anything at your foster home you really need?”
Anthony bit his lip, stricken, and shook his head. “I got….” He grimaced. “I got a Lego set for Christmas last year. I got to bring it to this foster home—but I don’t need it.” Shrug. “I mean, it’s one toy, right?”
Jackson’s heart cracked a little. Th
e first Christmas he’d known Kaden, Kaden had gotten two toy action figures. He and Kaden had played with those things for hours, and every time he had to go back to his own shitty apartment with whomever or whatever his mother had dragged in for the night, he’d set those little guys on Kaden’s shelf with a reverence other people saved for church. For Christmas the next year, Kaden had humbly presented him with one of the guys, carefully wrapped, and his mom had given Jackson a second one, brand-new. Jackson still kept them, in his underwear drawer. Not even Ellery knew about them.
“We’ll make sure you have some stuff of your own,” Jackson promised. “Hold still—let me see your tag.” He made note of the T-shirt size, which was about two sizes too big, and of the pants size, which was the same number too small. “Okay.”
“Jackson, do I need to be on the phone for this? I have to go tell Rhonda we’ve got guests coming and to watch out for strangers.”
“You know AJ—if you call him a stranger, you’ll break his heart.”
Kaden grunted. “If I could get that kid to move up here, I would. Send him up. Bring another one. I don’t care. It’s not like I get more than ten minutes in the john as it is.”
“Thanks, K.”
“Go to church, asshole.”
“Whatever.”
Jackson hung up and looked at Anthony while shaking his head. “Kid, you’d better grow up to be a stellar human being, you know that?”
Anthony batted thick-lashed eyes at him. “I’ll be lucky if I’m not dead on the streets at eighteen and a half. You know that, right?”
Damn. Grim statistics—but most foster kids knew their own odds. “You know if you live through the next week those odds just went up considerably,” he said truthfully. “I’m not sure where you’ll end up or how you’ll end up, but if there’s one thing I’ve got faith in, it’s the people you’re about to meet. Now let’s go in and get warm. I’ve got one more phone call to make.”
AJ showed up fifteen minutes later, driving a crappy loaner-mobile that Jackson’s old neighbor, Mike, had refurbished for the people living in the other half of the duplex. Right now AJ was living there with four other kids his age—those kids fresh out of jail. They could use the car to get jobs, to go to the store as long as it was for the household, and to pick each other up if they worked too late for public transportation.
