“Probably for the best—he can’t track you with it.”
I stilled. I hadn’t thought about that. Or about how I was going to pay for another one. “Ade, I don’t want to see them ever again.”
Ritchie’s hand found mine and squeezed it.
“I have to go, Jacks—is it okay if I tell my mom and dad?”
“You can tell them I’m safe, but don’t tell them where.”
“I love you, Jackson. Text me every day.”
“I love you too, Ade. I will, I promise.”
I hung up and handed the phone back to Ritchie. “Thanks.”
Teri handed me a mug. “Let this steep for a few minutes.”
I nodded. “Can I sit in the other room?”
“Mi casa es su casa.” Teri gestured, and I returned to the couch with Ritchie at my heels. He sat next to me and took my hand in his.
“Do you want to stay here with me tonight?”
I glanced around the room from the narrow sofa. His duffel and bass were the only signs that he was even living there. “Natalie said I could go meet her uncle.”
He nodded seriously. “You really should.” He laughed, running the heel of his hand over his eyes and forehead. “He’s uh—he’s something. I’ll go with you.”
Alarm shot through me. “Should I be scared?”
Ritchie laughed again. “Oh, absolutely not. But you know how Natty is like—” he flushed. “This is weird—I promise I’m not sleeping with her—but you know how she’s kind of magnetic?”
I had thought “hot” but magnetic was a good word for it too. I nodded.
“Okay, so her uncle is like that too. And he’s the nicest person on the fucking planet. So, everyone falls a little in love with him. You’ll get over it, though. We all do.”
“Is that why you want to come with me, so I don’t fall in love with him?”
Ritchie shook his head. “No. I want to come with you because I don’t want to be away from you ever again if I can help it. Jesus, Jacks. I don’t know what you’ve done to me, but I missed you like a missing limb when I couldn’t get a hold of you these last few weeks.”
It warmed me from the inside out to hear those words. “I was so alone. I didn’t know anybody felt that way about me.” The tears started falling then. The pain that had overwhelmed me only hours before came back in a sharp memory that stabbed at me.
Ritchie kissed me then, not like he had in that bathroom hallway months earlier, but like he had the night in the hotel, when he told me to dream of freedom. A sweet, gentle kiss that didn’t ask for anything but offered everything.
“I don’t know what this is between us, whether we’re friends or more than that, but you don’t ever have to be alone again.”
I wasn’t sure I was ready to believe that—it seemed way too good to be true. I took a sip of the tea Teri had brewed. It was disgusting. I set it on the table. “This is gross.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I didn’t want to say anything, but…”
“I think I should go meet Natalie’s uncle.”
“What size shoe do you wear?”
“Ten.”
“Here.” He reached under the sofa and pulled out a pair of faded gray Converse. “You can wear these for now. We’ll get you your own tomorrow.”
I put them on and stood up. “Now?”
“As good a time as any.” Ritchie grinned. “Let’s go.”
Natalie and Teri were in the kitchen, huddled close and talking in low voices.
“We’re coming with you,” Ritchie announced, and Natalie smiled.
“Good. X is home now if you two are ready?”
I nodded. “Thank you, Natalie.”
“Call me Nat. Or Natty.”
Chapter Four
Xavier Marshall was a big, intimidating man. Fiftyish and handsome, with a thick barrel chest and a dark mustache that made me think of Tom of Finland drawings. And I knew from the moment he started talking that he was every bit as gay as I was.
“You must be Jackson.” He held out his hand and shook mine. “Welcome to Xavier Marshall’s home for wayward queerdoes.” He laughed at himself, and it made me smile.
“Just Jacks. It’s nice to meet you, Sir.” I brushed my hands on my—Ritchie’s—sweats, suddenly nervous.
“Please. Xavier. Or X. So, your parents—threw you out?”
“More like locked him in,” Ritchie growled.
Xavier’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at Ritchie, then to me. “Is that true?”
I shrugged. “I was grounded. I wasn’t allowed to leave the house or have company or talk to anyone. They took my phone and my computer.”
“And what happened if you tried to leave?”
I shrugged again. “I didn’t bother this last time. Wouldn’t do any good and it would only make them ground me for longer. Once when I was in high school, they kept me cut off from everyone for an entire summer.”
“My niece says you’re a cutter. Is that true?”
Somehow, I knew better than to lie to him. “Sometimes.”
“Did your family abuse you other than the isolation? Physically? How did you get that black eye?”
“Dad used to hit me. Until I got big enough to hit back. Today I flipped out on him, and he hit me a couple of times. Mom mostly ignores me.”
His expression grew troubled. “Are you in school?”
“I just finished my freshman year at Princeton. I guess I’m not anymore.”
He sighed. “Okay. If this is what you want, I’ll talk to some people for you. You’ll come to work with me in the morning, and I’ll get you a job lined up. Is there an Amber Alert out for you? Are the police going to show up at my door?”
“An Amber—” Ritchie’s face went white. “He was a prisoner in his own house!”
“Relax, Ritch.” Xavier held up a hand. “Even though I don’t think a court will look at being grounded quite the same way as being held prisoner, the history of abuse is enough to make them pause before sending him back into the situation. There’s a good chance Jacks’s parents didn’t go to the police because they know that. They’ll try to convince him to come back themselves. For Jacks to sue for emancipation, he has to prove he can take care of himself—a job. A place to live.”
“I don’t have either, yet.” I looked down at my feet. I didn’t even have shoes. “But I’ll get them.”
Xavier smiled at me. “You can stay here. It won’t be the first or last time one of Natalie’s friends needed a place to land on their feet. And if you don’t mind hard work, you’ll have a job lined up tomorrow.”
“Thank you si—Xavier.”
“You’re welcome. Now, it’s late, and I get up early. Be ready to leave at six a.m.”
And with that, he stood and left the room.
“So…” Nat smiled at me. “You can sleep in my room if you want, or you can stay out here on the sofa. X really does get up early though, so if you want to sleep past four-thirty, you’re better off in my room.”
“If I sleep in your room, where will you sleep?”
She shrugs. “With you or here on the sofa, whichever makes you feel more comfortable. I don’t care.”
I protested immediately. “You shouldn’t have to do that. I don’t want to put you out of your bed or make you sleep with a stranger.”
Ritchie wrapped his arms around me from behind. “She really doesn’t care.”
“I really don’t. I’ve been homeless, Jacks. I don’t begrudge anyone a warm place to sleep, and I like sharing a bed. Besides, you’re not a stranger. You’re Ritchie’s friend, so you’re family.”
“Okay. I’ll stay with you.”
Ritchie let me go and turned me around. “I know what I said about not wanting to let you out of my sight, but if you feel safe here, I should go back to Teri’s. I’ll come over after work tomorrow, and I’ll take you out to dinner.”
Nat quietly left the room.
“On a date?” I asked him.
He gri
nned, then tousled my hair. “Like a friend. But if you want it to be a date, I think I would be okay with that.”
I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his. I could feel the rasp of his stubble against my chin as he kissed me back, and it sent a bolt of desire through me. His arms came around me, and he held my body close. His tongue slid into my mouth, and I let out a surprised noise. I could feel him smile against my lips as he pulled back.
“Goodnight, Jacks.”
“Goodnight, Ritchie.”
He kissed my nose. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Nat gave me a spare toothbrush and showed me around the apartment. Her bedroom was a frilly, girly space decorated in yellow and white. I looked around it in surprise.
“It’s so—”
“I was fifteen.” She laughed. “X says I can redecorate if I want, but it seems like a lot of trouble. I basically only sleep here.”
“And now you have to share it with me.” Guilt washed over me.
“It’ll be like having a sleepover.” She bumped my arm with her elbow. “We can tell ghost stories and secrets.”
“I’ve only ever slept over at Adriana’s.”
“I’m amazed your dad let you.”
“He’s deluded enough to think my friendship with Adriana could get him an in with Ade’s dad—he hates when other influential men look down their noses at him.”
“I think I like Ade’s dad.” She flashed a smile, then pulled her t-shirt over her head and shucked off her jeans. She was careful to put everything into the laundry hamper before she got into bed. I wasn’t sure where to look, but then I realized her sports bra and boxer briefs covered more than girls at the pool or the beach and decided not to worry about it.
I took off the sweatpants Ritchie had loaned me but left my shirt on and climbed into the bed next to her. “Are you sure this isn’t weird?”
She laughed. “Only if you make it weird. Know any good ghost stories?”
It turned out, I didn’t, and neither did she. Instead, I told her about my friendship with Ade, and about going to college when I was barely sixteen. Then she sang to me again, not the Melissa Etheridge song, but something else I didn’t recognize, until I fell asleep with her voice in my ears, safe and warm, and for the first time I could remember, protected.
The next morning, I followed Xavier and Nat through the kitchen doors of the Thorns Ladies’ Social Club with butterflies in my stomach and shaking hands. Xavier wore chef’s whites, and Nat had transformed into someone I hardly recognized.
Parting her hair on the side gave it the illusion of being longer than it was, and she wore a pantsuit and high heels. Obviously, she didn’t work in the kitchen. She squeezed my hand and disappeared through a door leading out of the kitchen, her face a mask of pleasant competence.
Xavier sat me down in a break room with an employment application and a pen.
“I don’t have any employment history,” I said softly, as the page in front of me seemed to wobble.
“It’s fine, kiddo.” Xavier’s hand came down warm on my shoulder. “This is a formality. I just need to figure out where we’re going to put you. We don’t really need a dishwasher, but our front-of-house staff is a little thin right now. We might have you hosting or bar backing.”
“What about—” I gestured at my clothes.
“You’ll get uniforms. We’re not putting you out on the floor right this minute. Not today at all. You don’t have any government ID, and we’ll need those before you can start. I am going to have you talk to a lawyer. There are several who are members here who would be willing to help you out pro bono.”
“Why would they?” I blurt. “I’m nobody to them.”
He came around the table and sat across from me.
“Natalie didn’t tell you? This club was founded as a safe space for queer women in the early 1900s. Most of our membership is queer. Many of them are moms. You have family here.”
“Natalie said that too. That I was family. Why does everyone keep saying that?”
Xavier closed his eyes and sighed. “You don’t know your queer history at all, do you son?”
I blushed. “Not really. Who would have taught me?”
“Family means queer—wherever you fall on that rainbow spectrum, you’re family.” He smiled, his dark mustache framing full lips. “But it also means the people you make a family with because the one you were born with didn’t care about you or didn’t want you or didn’t love you the way you needed them to. When we say you’re with family, we mean you’re with people who are safe, and who will care about what happens to you.”
Oh. Oh. Tears prickled my eyes. “Thank you.” It seemed inadequate to simply thank him for an explanation that rocked my world so completely, but there it was. “Thank you.”
He patted my hand. “You don’t need to thank me, son. Natalie’s father is my brother. I understand better than most what it means to need family. So does she. Now, I have to get to work. When you’re done with that, come find me. I’ll be the loud one.”
He wasn’t lying. In the busy kitchen that provided the food for both restaurants on the Thorns premises, Xavier’s voice rang out above the clang and clatter, issuing orders and instructions. I followed the sound until I found him holding court behind the grill, imperious as any queen. I caught his eye, and he gave me a brisk nod. He turned to a tall Black man and said something for his ears only. The man nodded, clapped Xavier on the shoulder, and took over for him.
“Come with me.” Xavier led me out of the kitchen, through the halls of the old building to an office. “Wait here.”
I sat on one of the leather chairs facing an empty desk. Whose office was this? Surely not Xavier’s? It was beautifully furnished in pale cream tones and gold, with a lush Turkish carpet at our feet. When the door opened again, an elegant woman in a black pantsuit entered, followed by another, equally elegant woman in a navy dress. I’d been surrounded by women like these two my entire life. I knew this scene.
My back straightened; my chin lifted.
“Jackson,” the woman in navy extended a hand to shake. “My name is Astrid, and I’m the general manager of the Thorns. I understand you’ll be coming to work in our restaurants.”
I stood and clasped her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you, and yes, I’d like that very much.”
She turned to the other woman and said simply “The office is yours to use for as long as this takes. Thank you for your help with this situation.” And then she left.
“Hi, Jackson. I’m Zoe Amin.” The woman in the black suit said kindly. “I practice family law here in New York and in New Jersey. Xavier has told me about your situation, and if you’ll have me, I’ll represent you in your petition for emancipation.”
My jaw starts to drop, but I catch myself. “Just like that?”
She smiles. “When I met my wife, we weren’t much older than you. She had a hard time of it with her family. I know where you’re coming from; I’ve seen the damage that kind of environment can do.” Her gaze flickered to the bruises on my face. “Not just on the outside.”
“Thank you,” I said, unable to trust myself with more.
“Let’s get started, then.” She sat at the desk and pulled a laptop out of her bag. “I’ll do my best to make this as easy as possible for you. Would you like me to order some coffee while we work?”
I shook my head. “No, thank you, I’m fine.”
“Do you know how the emancipation process in New Jersey works?”
I shook my head again.
“We’ll start there, then.”
An hour later, she gave me a hug and a list of things I could expect to happen over the next few days, including that she’d be sending new copies of my state ID, social security card, and birth certificate to me here at the Thorns. “They’ll be in the concierge office—Natalie Marshall will have them. Have you met Xavier’s niece yet?”
I nodded.
“Great—she’s a good person to know. She
’s incredibly resourceful. If you need anything, call me, okay?”
“Thank you so much. I don’t know how—” I shrugged. “Just, thank you.”
She smiled. “You’re welcome. I’ll get in touch through Xavier or Natalie, or I’ll find you here, okay?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
As she left the office, I sank back down into my chair and stared at the desk. This was real—I was going to be free.
Chapter Five
“So, you’re a busboy now?” Ade sat cross-legged on Nat’s bed and hugged a pillow to her chest.
“A bar back.” I corrected. “For now. X says there’s room for advancement. I’m too young to actually tend bar, but if I pay attention to what the bartenders are doing, I can learn a lot.”
“So, you’re not going back to Princeton?”
I shook my head. “Princeton was—it was never what I wanted. It’s what Dad wanted. And I want to be free. Working at the Thorns means freedom. Living with X and Nat means I don’t have to sneak around trying to have a life.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “I get it. It seems like a lot to thr—”
“Do not say ‘throw away’,” I told her firmly. “I’m taking my life back, not throwing it away.”
“But an Ivy league education…”
“Is not what I want, Ade.”
“Okay. I believe you; I do. It’s just—I can’t wait for college. August seems forever away still.”
“You’re going all the way across the country. And your parents aren’t just letting you—they’re encouraging you. That’s a completely different situation. My parents wouldn’t even let me get a car.”
She nodded again. “I know, I know. I wish this was easier for you.”
“Hauling kegs and sharing a room with a co-worker is easier for me than living in my parents’ house and being driven to and picked up from class like I’m under surveillance. And with you leaving, it would have been even worse.”
“We’ll talk all the time, okay?” She grabbed my hand. “We won’t lose touch?”
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