Chapter 223

Andy’s eyes flew open again, shocked. “Of course you wouldn’t. Baby, I didn’t mean it like—” His hands were on Scooter’s face, cupping it, drawing Scooter in for a soft kiss. “I know you don’t want him anymore. I know.” He rested his forehead against Scooter’s. “But God, I’m so fucking pissed at him now, and I honestly didn’t think I could get any madder at him than I was two years ago.”

Scooter wiped his cheek absently. Christ, he was turning into a fucking watering pot. “We can’t do anything about it and you know it.” Scooter shivered again, rage and fear and dread still all tangled up in his gut. “No witnesses. Who the fuck is going to believe me? I’ve got a goddamn arrest record, Andy. No one’s going to believe that Senator Sharpe pinned me in my fucking desk chair and assaulted me, that’s not going to happen and you know that.”

He finished off his smoke and pulled a second one out of the pack.

Andy growled under his breath, and dropped his head to Scooter’s shoulder. “Jesus, sweetheart,” he said, hoarse. “You’re telling me that asshat came into our place and tried to rape you and I can’t do anythingabout it?”

It was on the tip of Scooter’s tongue to protest the word choice; and then he touched his throat again. He’d been getting gray around the edges…Shit. “That’s what I’m telling you,” Scooter said. He lit the second smoke and inhaled. “No one believed me the first time, no one will believe it now. And, Andy, baby, I cannot go back to jail. Not ever, ever again.”

“I know,” Andy grated. He took a few shuddery breaths. “Are you—Do I need to take you to the doctor?”

“Jesus, no. I’m…it didn’t. He didn’t. This is the worst of it,” he said, touching his neck. “Used to have worse than that when I wanted to be having sex with him. I made a fashion statement every year for a while, turtlenecks in June.” He rolled his eyes. God, he’d been so stupid.

Andy let out another breath, slower. “You’re lucky I love you. If I ever told Roni that, she’d destroy you.”

Scooter snorted. “Between her and havin’ Ma find out what I’d been up to? I’d take Roni every day and twice on Sunday. My ma would have killed me. And then probably killed Sharpe while she was at it. I swear, I do not know what I was thinkin’. Who the fuck wants a seventeen year old kid when they’re thirty-five?”

“Assholes like him, apparently. Not your fault. You didn’t realize you were waiting for me.”

“Always waiting for you, baby doll,” Scooter said, pulling him in. Andy was real and solid and warm, and Scooter needed him, just to be there. “Thank you.”

Andy’s arms slid around him and held him tight, a little tighter than usual. “You’re welcome, whatever it is I did.”

“You believe me,” Scooter said. He hadn’t realized how important that was until it had happened; that Andy could very easily have walked away, believed whatever narrative it was that Sharpe would have spun. He shuddered. Everyone had believed Ripton. Well, not Jason. But everyone else. Even his father had…Scooter shut that thought off because it didn’t do him any good to dwell on it.

“Baby, if I couldn’t trust you, I wouldn’t have married you.” Andy tipped his head up for a kiss.

Scooter kissed him, long and slow and willing, wanting the taste of Sharpe, the sour flavor of fear out of his mouth. He wasn’t going to find it in the vodka, or even the cigarettes. Relief flooded him. Andy trusted him. Believed in him. It was going to be okay. “And you’re going to buy me a new desk chair, because I don’t think I can ever sit in that thing again.”

“Aw, you know how much I love it when you let me throw money at a problem. You sure you want to stop at just the chair? We can redo the whole office.”

“I’ll let you know. But I don’t ever want to be tipped backward like that again. It was…” Scooter shuddered. “Yeah, right. Never talking about this again.”

Andy hugged him tight again. “Okay. God, today has sucked.”

“And it’s not even over yet,” Scooter pointed out. “Like, how is that even fair? Gotta go to work now. After the dinner rush, though, you an’ me and Kat and Jason are going to go grab late night ice cream. We’ll even bring back a to-go for Billie and she can have it tomorrow.”

Andy leaned back to look at him. “Yeah? You think she’ll be okay if we go out?”

“Raniesha can stay in the living room and mooch off our cable tv for a while. I know she hasn’t seen the last season ofPenny Dreadful, because her mama would have a conniption fit.”

“Hey, look at you, planning ahead like a professional parent,” Andy teased. “You’ll have this whole ‘dad’ thing down in no time.”

“We’ll figure it out, baby doll.” He slung an arm around Andy’s shoulders. “You an’ me.”

* * * *

Simon was nervous. He didn’t particularly like the sensation. He’d worked hard over the last several years to be more confident in his decision-making. Taking his share of work—and Mark’s, too, since Mark had no interest in the family business—and making a success of it had bolstered his ego quite a bit.