Dignity
Page 47

 Jay Crownover

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She sighed into the night and snuggled closer. “You’ve got me too, Stark. You’re the only man I’ve ever wanted to give myself to and the only one I’ve ever wanted to hold onto. No one is taking that away.”
It was a good thing our love was forged in the fire of the Point, because if it could survive the place we called home, then it could survive anywhere.
The good guys were getting a leg up, but so were the bad guys who did good when it benefited them. However, they weren’t alone. Standing next to them were even better women who had just as much at stake in saving this city. In a place that had been deemed hopeless and lost, love found its way into the darkest corners and scariest parts of the city.
There was light now.
There was a chance at something better.
There was hope and tenuous optimism.
And yes . . . there was love. Battered, dented, and a little rough around the edges, it had seen better days, but it was there.
Exactly like my heart.
A couple months later . . .
The last time we’d all been gathered in the hospital, it had been because Bax was clinging to life after getting run off the road by a garbage truck. His muscle car had been crushed in the accident and so had his leg and several of his vital organs.
This occasion was much happier, even if Nassir was noticeably absent. He and Titus might have an uneasy truce in the works, but there was no way the cop was going to let the devil anywhere near his newborn baby. Keelyn had dropped off a gorgeous bouquet, an expensive bottle of scotch, and a box of cigars a couple of hours ago. She was close with Reeve, the cop’s girlfriend and new mother. She didn’t make apologies or excuses for her husband, but she did tell Titus her husband sent his best. The big man grunted in response but he gave her hand a squeeze as she slipped out of the waiting room.
Reeve had given birth to a healthy baby boy they named Titan. It was the name of a warrior. A big name he was going to have to live up to. If you asked his uncle, the little guy was already destined for greatness. Reeve told everyone Bax was excited for the baby, but no one really believed her until it proved nearly impossible to get the small bundle out of the big bruiser’s hands. Little Titan was already performing miracles. Bax didn’t glare at his older brother or give Reeve a hard time at all while he was visiting. He was so smitten with his new nephew, he forgot old hurts and animosity. All of us were looking at fresh starts and new beginnings . . . well, all of us except for the two men who were faced off in the waiting room like opponents in the Colosseum.
No one else seemed to pick up on the tension radiating off of Race and Booker, but since I was the newest member of this motley group of misfits, I couldn’t miss it. Plus, Booker spent a lot of time around my genius since they both dangled at the end of Nassir’s string. The two of them were tight, even closer than he and Race had been back in the day. I think Stark felt indebted to Booker since he had a hand in saving my life and getting me away from Goddard, and I had to admit, I was pretty fond of the broody ex-con as well. He might not be as smart as Stark, but he seemed to know a whole hell of a lot about how the world worked. He had practical knowledge and it often kicked book smarts squarely in the nuts.
Race was watching Booker closely, his chiseled jaw locked and his golden eyebrows lowered over his amazing green eyes. He didn’t look like a criminal. He looked like a model. He also looked seriously pissed off, but his anger didn’t hold a candle to the scalding fury that blazed from the corner where Booker was propped up. Every line of his massive bulk was locked tight, making him look ready to fight. His expression was thunderous as he glared at his boss’ business partner, and the scar on his face stood out white against his ruddy skin as his teeth noticeably ground together.
I put my hand on Stark’s bicep to ask what that was all about, about to interrupt him in the middle of his congratulations to the cop. Titus was getting ready to forcibly drag his little brother away from his baby, which everyone thought was hilarious. Race’s fiancée and Bax’s girlfriend were standing off to the side gushing over babies and how amazing Reeve would be as a new mom. The pretty blonde, the one who was more put together and stylish than I would ever be, reached out and touched her equally polished man. Her eyes were wide and her voice was sad when she told him, “I wish I could have convinced Karsen to come home for this. She was so sad when she missed the baby shower. I feel like the more time she spends away at school, the less likely she is to come home for a visit.”
I knew Karsen was her younger sister. I didn’t know she’d been invited to the recent baby shower Keelyn had thrown.
Race looked at his woman with a heavy dose of sympathy and understanding. He pulled her into his arms and rested his chin on the top of her flawless hair. “She’ll figure it out, Brysen. She’s learning how big the world really is. She has options now.”
A sound that was somewhere between a roar and a growl erupted from where Booker was lurking. Everyone in the waiting room, including those who weren’t there to fawn over the Point’s newest little King, started and turned to look at the infuriated man. He pushed off the wall and stalked toward the blond couple like he was going to run right over them. The woman cocked her head to the side in confusion but Race stiffened his spine and narrowed his eyes even farther.
“Options? Is that what you call what she has now, Hartman? She gets to make up her own mind about where she wants to be and who she wants to be with? Has something changed?” The words were short and clipped, anger rolling off the man in waves that swept through the entire room. “Or are you still manipulating things so she does what you want, when you want, without her even knowing it?” He looked at Brysen with a sneer. “Your sister won’t be back. Ask the asshole holding onto you why that is. Ask him about the options he left Karsen with.” He shook his head as he pushed past them and shook off Bax’s girlfriend’s reaching hand. “Everyone thinks Gates is the dangerous one, the dirty one. If anyone was paying attention, they would see you play twice as rough as the devil, Hartman.”
He stormed out of the room, leaving tense silence and unasked questions lingering in the air behind him.
Titus cleared his throat and mumbled he needed to get back to his family. Dovie looked at the couple with wide eyes as Stark pulled me into his side and dropped a quick kiss on my head. Anyone else would be wrapped up in the drama, curious about the outcome, worried about their friend. Not my guy. My quirky, disconnected genius mumbled something about the statistical chances of Titan ending up with Titus’s unusual white spot in his hair and calculating the odds that any child we had together would get his hyper-intelligence. I was distracted by the idea of being pregnant, of carrying his baby, of having a family of my own, and I didn’t process that he also mentioned twins ran in his family.
I was off in my own little daydream when Brysen’s shrill voice brought me back to reality.
“What did you do, Race? What have you done?” She’d pulled out of his embrace and now she was the one squared off against him like she was ready to do battle.
Dovie put a hand on her friend’s shoulder and offered softly, “Not the time or the place honey. Take this home.”
The icy blonde nodded but shook off her man’s hands when he reached for her. He whispered something in her ear that didn’t soften her expression one bit. They swept out of the room in a cloud of tension that had Dovie offering up a shrug and an apology. “It’s always something, I guess.” She excused herself to find her man and the rest of her family while Stark started to lead me in the direction the others had gone.
“Where are we going?” I put a hand on the cut, defined plane of his stomach. We’d come to see the baby and hadn’t gotten our turn yet.
He pushed the button for the elevator and looked down at me with a lifted eyebrow. His eyes were concerned behind his glasses. They were a new pair, tortoise shell instead of black but still designer and still hot as hell on him. His old pair had had an unfortunate accident while I was sitting on his face. Sometimes the man was too impatient, not that I could complain.
“I need to check on Booker. Something’s been brewing and I knew it was going to boil over eventually. He usually keeps himself in check. That outburst was not good.” He pulled me into the elevator and I slid my hand into his much bigger one as the car started to descend.
“You’re worried about your friend.” I squeezed his fingers. “Your heart is working just fine, Snowden Stark.” I was proud of him and proud of me for being the one who fixed him.
“Thanks to you.” He said it with all seriousness.
“Do you think Booker will be okay?” I’d never seen him so mad or so terrifying. That was the side of him that Nassir used to keep people in line. That was the side of him that had landed the big man behind bars.
Stark dipped his chin in a slight nod. “He’s a man who is tired of waiting. Even the most patient men have their limits.”
“What’s he waiting for?” I was confused and intrigued by all of it.
“The same thing we’re all waiting for. His shot at something better.”