Page 87 of Beautiful Soldier

“Then I would like it,” I tell him, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. “Now, can we do something normal? Like binge TV and eat candy?”

Oscar chuckles. “That’s your idea of normal?”

I shrug. “That’s what I would be doing if I was home.”

He shakes his head but leads me to the sofa anyway. He hands me the remote and tells me he’ll search the kitchen for junk food. I turn the TV on, but I watch him instead. He pulls down some Oreos from the cabinet, sitting them next to a bag of chips on the counter along with a loaf of bread.

“Can I ask you something?” I call out.

He comes out from around the kitchen. “Anything.”

“How do you make money?”

His gaze burns into me. He tosses the chips and the Oreos down on the coffee table in front of us.

“I was just curious because your mom—”

“Doesn’t work?” he supplies. “Doesn’t give me money? Doesn’t do anything?”

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Yeah. All that.”

“I get money from the Crew. I fast-tracked my way in, so I could start earning a wage. When we got back to the Heights and Mom started back into her drug nonsense, I knew things were going to go back to the way they were, only worse. I burned bridges when I left. I used to work at the grocery beneath us, but Heights people didn’t trust me like they used to. I joined the Crew for protection and for the money. I couldn’t wait to go through the regular initiation tasks like most, I needed to start making money right away, so they agreed to push me through as long as I did what they said. They pay me to watch over the high school recruits. They pay me to keep my ears to the ground. You’d be surprised what you can learn in the school. I write them weekly reports that sometimes have information they need and sometimes don’t. I also help them with various other things occasionally.”

“And it’s enough?” I ask.

“Am I Uncle Scrooging it in money? No,” he says, looking away. “But it’s enough to get by.”

I cup his cheek, making him look at me again. “You are something else, Oscar Drego.”

He shakes his head. “I did what I had to to survive.”

“But youdiddo it,” I tell him. Not everyone does. His mom, for example. She checked out. She’s not helping. She’s not doing anything. Brawler’s mom, too. Hell, Johnny’s mom left him as well. Not everyone does what they should do. Even if you just do that, you’re doing okay. Sometimes it’s enough just to do enough.

Oscar leans forward to gesture toward his offerings. “Which first?”

“Chips,” I tell him, already salivating. He hands me the bag of Doritos, and I open them, holding them between us so we can share.

We decide on a movie and start to watch. Minutes turn into an hour and an hour into three as we put in another movie and snuggle on the couch together. It’s so comfortable being here. In fact, it’s so comfortable I fall asleep and Oscar wakes me with a kiss to the crown of my head. “Let’s go to bed, Princess.”

I play groan at him, and he smirks. “Do you want the bed to yourself?”

I stand, wrapping my arms around his middle. “Absolutely not. I want to wake up in your arms.”

Oscar and I undress once we’re in his room. He shucks his clothes off until he’s in his boxers while I’m in his football shirt. He teases the fabric between his fingers. “I love that you wore this.”

I shrug it off like it doesn’t matter, but I love wearing their clothes. Is that strange? There’s just something about wearing their too-big t-shirts. Letting them—their smell—wrap all around me is like having them close to me all the time.

Oscar has just wrapped his arms around me after we get in bed when his phone rings. He breathes out. “If that’s one of them, no promises I won’t murder their asses.”

I smirk, but when he turns over, he answers it without any venom. The sheets gather at his waist as I play my hands up and down his back.

“Really?” Oscar asks.

The tone in his voice makes me stop.

“Yeah, thanks for telling me.” He breathes out, displeased. “No, no. I’ll take care of it.”

He hangs up the phone, resting it against his forehead.

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