Page 192 of A Million To Fall

He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Skye, I sold my body. I whored myself out. I let women use me to—”

“You didn’t whore yourself out.” Jake’s cheeks are wet with his own tears, but his expression is steady. “They were using you. My mom knew about your situation. She knew you were desperate. That you were killing yourself working so you could save up for a place. She took advantage of you. They all did.”

Boston shakes his head. “Call it whatever you want,” he mutters. “Doesn’t change what it was.” He inhales a shaky breath, directing his gaze at me. “I knew if I told you, you’d never look at me the same. I already wasn’t worthy of you, Skye. And this—” His voice breaks.

My hand tightens around his.

“What are you talking about?” I huff with indignation, eyes hot and stinging with tears. “You were never not worthy of me.”

“Wrong,” he says. “Maybe not when we were five and still lived on the same street and my dad was still alive and my mom wasn’t a drug addict or…” He trails off for a breath. “But I was never able to give you the things you deserve, Stormy. The money. The name. The life—”

“I have to admit I’m a little offended that you really think that would deter me from loving you, Boss.”

His eyes flare, but I’m not ready to give up the mic just yet, or even really acknowledge that the L-word just left my mouth.

“I’m… sick—just sick—over what happened with Jake’s mom and… and the other women… Wait.” A horrible thought spears my brain. “My mom, she she—”

“What? Fuck. No. Of course not, Skye.” His answer comes immediately.

I swallow, relieved. “I’m sick with what happened to you. I hate the thought that you were forced into this. And, yeah, it hurts that you didn’t trust me to see you. To care about you. To… love you”—there’s that word again—“for more than the material things you can or can’t give me. I don’t know what gave you the impression that those things are important to me.”

Boston raises one eyebrow. Even Jake gives me an are you kidding kind of look.

“Okay, I guess I do see how you could get that impression,” I relent. “But—” I sigh loudly. “I don’t actually care about those things. I care about you, Boss. I care that you’re okay. That you have a home. That you have your siblings. And I care about them, too.”

I can practically see the lightbulb flicker on, Boston’s reaction shifting to panic in the blink of an eye. “Shit. Where—”

“They’re with my parents,” I say before he can spiral into a full-blown anxiety attack.

“You ordered me to call Skye last night, so I did. She stayed with them,” Jake says, nodding.

“Of course I did,” I say. Boston’s eyes close, the tension cracking. I hold his hand tighter. “They’re safe, Boss. Nobody’s going to come and take them from you.”

His eyes open, watery and filled to the brim with exhaustion. “You sure?” he asks. “Archer’s dad isn’t going to pull some shit?” His gaze shifts to Jake. “Or that your mom won’t make good on her promise to tip off the judge?”

Jake shakes his head, shoulders squared, brow set. “Hell no. I was there this morning. When things got… discussed. My mom’s terrified of my dad finding out. As she should be. And Longfellow cares more about his political aspirations than anything. He’s going to make sure none of this sees the light of day.”

“What does that mean exactly?” I ask.

“It means strings have been pulled. No arrests. No charges. On paper, it’s self-defense.”

“But—” I start, outrage flaring.

“There’s no point fighting this Skye,” Jake says. “Archer’s dad made sure everyone’s stories were straight. And Officer Reed? He was handpicked. The reality is that Archer has all the power behind him. Boss has nothing.”

“Story of my life,” Boston mutters.

“Yeah,” Jake agrees ruefully. “You know Mr. Longfellow wasn’t even shocked by what my mom did? He didn’t even flinch. Wealthy people paying for sex. Infidelity. Girls’ nights. It’s all just part of the game.”

“That’s bullshit,” I snap. “So everyone just gets to keep on keeping on, but what about Boss?” I ask like Jake has the power to change things. “He might not even be able to work for weeks. How’s he supposed to support himself? And his siblings?”

Boston squeezes my hand. “I’ll figure it out, Stormy. I always do.”

“You shouldn’t have to figure anything out. This wasn’t your fault,” I argue, voice tight.

Jake hesitates. “Archer’s dad mentioned something about covering Boss’s medical bills. Like a… gesture.”

“Hush money,” Boston says, stony-faced.