The station at Sutphin Boulevard and Hillside Avenue was basically never quiet. People were always hanging out at the store or walking up and down toward the LIRR or Jamaica Avenue. I glanced at Meredith, wondering if she’d ever come to this side of the river, and raised an eyebrow at how the bustle relaxed her.
Instead of turning inward, she stood up straighter and was looking around curiously. Now that we were away from Manhattan, the Mere I’d come to know was once again making an appearance.
“If you think I’m showing you around the neighborhood, you’re wrong.”
She shifted closer to me, a smile playing on her lips. “Aw, come on. What kind of boyfriend doesn’t give the grand tour?”
Discomfort clenched my chest. I cleared my throat. “Yeah, so, about that . . .”
“It’s fine, Tonya,” she said quickly. “I know you were just saying whatever to get them off your back. I’m kidding.”
She looked a little mortified that I hadn’t reacted well to her coyness, but I never reacted well to it. Ever. Instead of answering, I grabbed her hand again.
“Okay, so, a tour.” I jerked my chin to our left. “Over there we got Popeyes and the liquor store, which is hilariously called Ho’s.”
Meredith snickered. “My kinda place.”
“You calling yourself a ho?”
Those slim shoulders rose. “I own whatever bullshit labels people sling at me just because I like to fuck.”
Damn, no wonder she and Steph were homegirls. Smirking, I nodded across the street as we walked. “Over there is Maloney’s, which is a decent bar. Pretty much the only bar I’ll fuck with.”
“The only bar at all?” she asked, eyeballing the dive. “You don’t ever go anywhere else?”
“I don’t like crowds, or music, or dancing people.”
Meredith shook her head, another tiny smile on her face, and kept looking at the bar. Maybe she was wondering if we should go in and have a drink, but I’d have to tap out on that one. Now that the adrenaline had run its course, I was drained. The comedown from a rush tended to be brutal.
“T-Bone,” someone hollered from the front of Maloney’s. “Who’s the blonde?”
I squinted into the darkness just enough to make out a couple of older dudes who’d been kicking it in that exact same spot since I was in high school. I was pretty sure they were bus drivers and worked a late shift, but they always had some extra shit to say to me.
“Too hot and young for you,” I shouted back.
He yelled something back in Spanish, a pretty crude description of what I should do to Mere once I got her home, and I flipped him off. I couldn’t stand people.
“Sometimes I wish I was fucking invisible,” I muttered, and walked faster, dragging her behind me. “Hurry up.”
“Why? He’s just talking shit.”
I looked at her, surprised. “You understood what he said?”
Meredith gave me a haughty look and tossed her hair. “He said to enjoy eating my pussy. I frankly think it’s a great idea.”
Good God, she was a trip. Shaking my head, and trying not to smile, I finished my half-assed tour by pointing out the civil court house taking up the majority of the block across from my building, and hiked the four flights upstairs. She jogged up in her heels as if she were rocking Jordans. Her legs were probably ridiculously strong. I fantasized for a hot minute about them wrapping around me, before unlocking my apartment door to another unwelcome sight.
I stood framed in the door with Mere behind me, looking over my shoulder. Picking up on my downturn in mood, she tensed and put her hands on my shoulders. I stiffened, and she squeezed.
Angel was standing in the living room with a tall, broad dude who had always reminded me of Aaron Hernandez—in looks and temperament. Victor Quinones was Stephanie’s bad-ass little brother, and had terrorized the neighborhood for our entire adolescence. The number of times he and Raymond had beaten the fuck out of each other while Stephanie stood there hysterical and trying in vain to pull them apart had to be in the dozens. Just the sight of him, even when he turned to me with a calmer and steadier expression than I’d ever seen on his scarred face, turned my stomach.
My lip curled. I looked at Angel. “Why’s he here?”
Angel had the decency to look abashed as he ran a big hand through his dark-blond hair, but then his gaze fell on Meredith. When she walked around me to slip into the apartment while casting nervous looks back at the shadowy hallway, his eyes went wide. “What the fuck? Are you okay?”
Her hands instantly went up to the red marks on her neck. “Yes. Sorry. I was robbed by some homophobic stalkers at an event where T happened to be working. I’ll go if I’m—”
“You’re not going anywhere.” My voice came out in that low aggressive rumble again, but I couldn’t help it. Not with Victor standing in my house for unknown reasons. If I had fur, it would all be standing on end as I tried to make myself look big enough to take on this bastard. “My room is down the hall. Bathroom is across from it. Borrow anything you want.”
Meredith hesitated, but the relief slumped her shoulders. “Thanks.”
I nodded and watched her walk to the bedroom. When I realized Victor’s big brown eyes had also dropped to her ass and legs, I stepped forward.
“When did you get back from Chicago?”
“Today.” His voice was different. In the past, he’d spoken every word like a challenge. Even the most innocuous ones had been laced with some low-key disrespect. But now, he seemed . . . soft-spoken. He had his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, and there was no sign of the former drug dealing, thieving motherfucker who Steph had shipped off to live in Illinois with their uncle three years ago. “I finished Job Corps.”
“Good for you. Why didn’t you get a job back in Chicago?”
“Because I wanted to be here. With my sister.”
I stared at him incredulously, but Angel interjected quickly. “It’s just for a few days, T-Bone. Stephanie asked if it was okay.”
The anger slid from me as quickly as it had arrived. I wasn’t about to help his dumbass without Steph’s consent. After giving him another ill once-over, and Angel a narrow-eyed we’ll talk later stare, I went down the hall. Meredith wasn’t in my room, but I heard the water running in the bathroom across the hall. Thankfully, Angel was the cleanest dude I’d ever met—like legitimately cringed at the sight of a mess—so I knew everything would be on point.
Which, why did I care, anyway? This wasn’t a date. She just didn’t want to be alone. And because I’d gone all America Chavez on the scumbag with the undercut, she seemed to be seeking comfort from me. Or protection. Odd, since I was pretty sure if it came down to it, she could protect herself.
Even with that rationale in mind, I looked around my bedroom with critical eyes. I’d been on the lease with Angel for years, but while I was active in the Corps, the apartment had been his to turn into a pretty bomb bachelor oasis. I’d told myself, for the past couple of years, that I would deck out my room to look as fly as his, but all I’d managed was a platform bed and new sheets from Ikea, a full-length mirror that leaned against the wall, and an enormous backlit graffiti pop wall piece of the Puerto Rican and genderqueer flags wrapped together. Michael Rodriguez, Raymond’s brother, had given it to me for my twenty-first birthday—basically proving that Rodriguez peeps were the best peeps on Earth.
Bad-ass art aside, there was nothing else in the room. Not even a TV. I couldn’t tell if it looked all cool and minimalist, or if Meredith would take one look at my room and think I was some kind of psycho for having zero possessions.
Shaking my head, I stripped off my clothes, tossing the suit in the laundry basket shoved into my closet, left my chest binder on, and threw on a white ribbed tank and pair of basketball shorts. I needed a shower, but I wasn’t about to wander around in a fucking towel while Victor’s ass was hanging around.
My door opened, and Meredith walked in wearing a pair of my old silkies—the green booty shorts Marines had once worn during PT—and a black tank top. It was too small for her, so her breasts were straining against the stretchy fabric.
“Really?” I asked, not hiding the way I was looking her up and down. “Really, Meredith?”
“What?” She tossed her clothes in a careless pile by the window and tied her hair back in a loose ponytail. “You said I could borrow something.”
“You’re a walking thirst trap.”
A gleam shone in her eyes, but she just rolled her shoulders and moved closer to my bed. Her hair still reached almost to her ass. When she walked, the tip swung like a pendulum right at the small of her back. She was clearly trying to hypnotize me into bad decisions.
“It’s disgustingly hot, and you’re surviving on fans. It was this or the boob tape and thong I was wearing under my dress. Your choice, T.”
The other option sounded pretty damn great.
“I don’t know how people wear thongs,” I said, sitting at the head of the bed with my legs sprawled in front of me. “I could barely stand those fucking silkies. I felt like my ass was out.”
“There’s nothing else I could wear under that dress that wouldn’t show.” Despite all her brash talk, Meredith lingered at the edge of the bed like a nervous cat before climbing in beside me. She extended her long legs and crossed them at the ankles. “I thought you were taller than me.”
I shot her an incredulous look. “How? You’re tall as fuck.”
“I dunno. You just . . . seem bigger than you are? Like your presence or something.” A flush rose up her neck, spreading onto her cheeks. So pretty and kissable, I had to ball my hands in the sheet to keep from putting my hands on her. “Look, these are the things I think about.”
“My presence?”
“Yes.” She inched closer to me and rested her head on my shoulder. “I told you, there’s something about you. Even before the dressing room incident, I was kind of obsessed.”
She smelled like heaven and her skin was silk under my callused hands. She probably needed the kind of gentle treatment I couldn’t give, but she was panting for it anyway. When I sank my teeth into the side of her neck and slid my arm around her front, fingers sliding down into her underwear, she moaned so loud everyone in the studio likely heard the throaty sound.
“I want you so bad,” she whispered. “You don’t understand how much you turn me on.”
I licked the place I’d bitten, hoping there would be a mark, and rubbed her clit faster. My fingers circled that spot as she trembled, and I pressed myself against her back tighter when the heat between her thighs grew slicker.
“Don’t stop,” she said, a desperate edge working into her voice. “Make me come.”
“Then get on the table. And spread your legs.”
“We should call your brother. And the number on that card.”
Meredith sighed. “Can’t I just be here with you without involving other people?”
“Yes, but you need to report that this is connected to the harassment, and you also need to tell your brother to give the rest of the staff a heads-up that there are people stalking employees with the intent to harm them.”
“Oh fuck.”
Meredith was crawling to the edge of the bed in an instant, and reaching for the phone in her bag as she leaned forward on her hands and knees. The hem of the silkies rode up, showing the curve of her ass. I wanted to press my face against it, lick her every single place that mattered, then shove my tongue deep into her.
Was it normal to be this horny in the middle of an emergency? I legitimately had no frame of reference for this, but my concern about the safety of her and the QFindr staff wasn’t taking away from the fact that the sight of her ass in the air had me clenching and wet.
Rubbing my hands over my face, I slid down until I was on my back, and tried to think about something else. Like the fact that two men had tracked Meredith down, and one of them was still out there. That it was starting to look like a hate crime. That the media would turn it all into a circus.
And beyond that, Victor was back in town, staying in my apartment, and giving off the vibes of a reformed dick-bag criminal. I needed to talk to Stephanie about what was going on. The boy had been a total hellion, and their lack of functioning parents had created a situation where she’d been the one in charge of wrangling him. And he’d given her hell.
But on the opposite side of the token, he’d defended her fiercely. They were both pretty ride or die when it came to standing up for each other, even if he’d always done something stupid to bring her nothing but stress.
The apartment was quiet, so maybe he’d gone out with Angel to give me and Meredith some privacy. If they were that thoughtful, I’d be shocked.
“Are you going to tell Dad?”
The way she’d said Dad pricked my ears. I sat up, looking down at the long stretch of her body lying flat against my bed with her face turned to the side so she could hold the phone. The relaxation of only a few minutes ago had gone, and she was tight with tension. Without thinking about it, I ran my fingers along her spine, then repeated the motion in a slow caress.
“Yeah, I’m listening,” she said haltingly. “I just don’t see the point.” Another pause, a low sigh, then, “Okay. I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner.” There was a longer pause before Meredith said, “I’m in Queens. With Tonya. She’s taking good care of me, Caycay.”
After a second, Meredith ended the call after a sincere-sounding “I love you too,” and tossed the phone onto the floor. She rolled onto her back, and my hand wound up resting against her stomach.
“Is it okay to call you ‘she’? I should have asked.”
I dragged my fingers along her stomach, pressing down lightly before dragging them up again. She didn’t react, but her body was thrumming. “I can go either way.”
“No preference at all?” she asked.
“No. I’m good. If I feel disrespected, you know I’d let you know.”
Mere nodded slowly, her eyes going hooded. “Right. You’d just walk out of the room and ignore me.”
My mouth quirked, but I didn’t take the bait. “Following Steph’s and Chris’s lead is a safe bet in general. I’ve been friends with Chris since he, Ray, and I were little.”
“And Stephanie?” Her tongue swept out, dampening her lower lip. “When did you two get close?”
“Junior high. We used to make out in the locker room at school, and the other girls would watch.”
“That’s all? Preteen smooches?” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows. “I heard otherwise . . .”
“We used to play around some. Experimenting.” Which was partially how Victor had gotten all up in my grill one day about a decade ago. I’d slept at her house after a rough night at my own, and he’d walked in on a hard-core finger-banging session. He’d dragged me out of the bed, accused me of trying to turn his sister into a lesbian, and I’d brawled with him. Then Ray had shown up and had round two. “We always got caught, so we quit it. It was just for fun, anyway.”
She nodded slowly, eyes narrowed, and I could almost see what she was thinking. Maybe wondering if Stephanie was my type. Visually, the only thing they had in common was height. She was tall, thin, pale, but with a sun-kissed tan, and had gold hair. Stephanie was tall, curvy, dark-haired, and the same bronze skin as her idiot brother.
“What did Caleb say?”
Mere seemed to snap out of her thoughts, and frowned. “Stavros had already filled him in. My phone was turned down, so I didn’t see the million calls Caleb had made to me after we got off the train. He was worried sick, and said we all need to meet ASAP to get a more intense security plan in action.” Another of those long pauses, like she was thinking of what to say and how to say it to avoid a response she didn’t want. “He was relieved I’m with you.”
My brows shot up. “Why’s that? He doesn’t know me. He barely knows anyone in my area code.”
“He knows enough.” There was some fire in her when she said that, like she couldn’t stand for anyone to even imply anything bad about her brother. “He loves Chris. Like adores him.”
“The only people who don’t adore Chris are the kind of people who hate kittens.”
“So, monsters, then,” Mere said, choking on a laugh.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“I’m sure he’ll love being compared to a kitten.”
He’d fucking hate it, but I’d grown up with him acting as my walking, talking Chester Bear, keeping me warm and comforting me even before I’d realized I’d gone cold enough to shatter into splintering pieces.
“What else did Caleb say about me? You’re holding back.”
Mere ran her tongue over her lower lip. “He suggested I ask if I can stay for the weekend. Here. With you. To lay low until the other guy is caught. He thinks you’ll watch out for me.”
“‘Lay low,’” I repeated. “He used that phrase?”
“Yeah, well, you see, my big bro is kind of a dork.”
I smiled. Not even one of my shitty ones. A big smile, one just for her and her dorky brother, because seeing her talk about him was sweeter than I’d expected. And it didn’t fit the image I’d crafted in my mind, no matter how many times Stephanie had sung her praises.
“You can stay here and lay low.” An image popped into my mind. Early-morning rays of sunlight already suggesting another satanically hot day, my internal alarm clock jolting me awake and finding all those long willowy limbs twined with my sinewy ones. Her hair everywhere, our sweat causing skin to slide together. Her breasts pressed against my side, because she’d undoubtedly curl into me and I always slept on my back. “I’ll sleep on the pullout in the living room.”
“Isn’t that guy sleeping in there?”
I cast a baleful glare at the door. Fucking Victor.
“I’ve slept on worse places than my own floor.”
“Floor?” Meredith stared at me, astonished. “T, are you that scared of my pussy?”
Choking on another startled laugh, I shoved one of her knees.
“Well, if you’re not scared, then we’re sharing this bed.” She raised her eyebrows in a challenge, but it wasn’t that coy taunting shit again. It was more like a dare to come up with a rational suggestion. An impossible request. Everything that sprung to mind, including leaving my own apartment to sleep at Ray and David’s, was ridiculous, since I was supposed to be . . . taking care of her. An idea that made me feel things I seriously had no business feeling, considering the massive brush-off I’d given her not five hours ago.
“I have a suggestion.”
“This should be stunning,” I said dryly.
“You bet your sweet ass it is.” She extended her legs, and the silkies slid further up her thighs. “How about this—we fuck right now, get it out of our system, and then we move on?”
The glance I gave her was mean. I knew it even before she flinched and looked away, temporarily flailing in rejection.
“Is that how it usually works for you?” I asked. “Fuck someone enough times to quench your thirst and move on?”
“Well, T, not all of us can move on after a little finger fuck. Some of us aren’t machines.”
My ego rose up, ready to fight. I leaned closer, and put a hand on her thigh. My fingers brushed the inside, soft skin over sleek muscle.
“A ‘little finger fuck,’ huh? You gushed all down your thighs and all over my hand, ma. I could smell you on me for the whole train ride home.”
Meredith swallowed hard, but didn’t look away. She wet her lips again, a nervous gesture more than one meant to tempt me, but it did anyway. Now that it was all in the air, that the memories were rushing back in full video instead of sporadic bursts, I couldn’t stop thinking of things I’d do to her if I gave in. If I tried to “get her out of my system.”
“If you think I came hard from your fingers,” she said softly, looking at me from under her lashes, “imagine how wet I’d get from your tongue.”