The Same Place (The Lamb and the Lion #2) - Gregory Ashe Page 0,82
off as Scipio yanked on the toy.
Then Tean walked over to the couch and grabbed Jem’s ankle.
“Ungh,” Jem groaned.
“Come on.”
“I got fired. That lawyer fired me.”
“You don’t even like having a job. You told me, your exact words were, ‘Jobs are for suckers.’ You told me that while I was trying to get ready to go to my job.”
“Yes, and I stand by that statement, but I like having money.”
“You know plenty of ways to get money.”
“Yeah, but I kind of liked earning it. Is that weird?”
Tean laughed and pulled on his ankle again. “Up. We’re going for a walk.”
“Go without me.”
“I’ll put this bone under your shirt if you don’t get up in the next five seconds.”
“Is that a sex thing?” Jem said, rolling onto his back and smirking up at Tean. “Let me see that big bone.”
“Up, or you’re going to have eighty pounds of slobbering Lab trying to rip your shirt off.”
“Just try it a little bit differently. Try telling me you’re going to throw me your bone.”
“Ok,” Tean said, grabbing the hem of Jem’s shirt, “you asked for it.”
It turned into wrestling, with Tean trying to get Jem’s shirt and Jem trying to force him away, Jem’s eyes bright and his grin manic, and Scipio lunging in to try to be part of the game—and to try to get the rubber bone out of Tean’s hand. Tean threw the bone in Jem’s lap, and Scipio charged toward it.
“Fine, fine, fine,” Jem shouted, laughing as he twisted away from Scipio. “I’ll go on the walk. You’re a fucking cheater.”
When Tean had Scipio in his harness, they headed out of the apartment. The spring day was perfect: the sun warm on the back of Tean’s neck, the sky clear and blue, a grove of apple trees on the edge of Liberty Park in bloom. Midafternoon, the park was busy. A pair of girls, one black and one white, was chalking out a hopscotch game. A half dozen Latino kids were playing a pickup game of soccer on a grassy stretch, using the trees as goal posts. Two women—one with her hair cut high and tight, wearing boots covered in gunmetal rivets, the other in an honest-to-God poodle skirt, her hair styled like she’d just had it done with Mrs. Cleaver under the dryer next to her—were walking a Goldendoodle, and the doodle and Scipio had to stop to sniff and meet each other.
“You realize they fired you because they’re terrified Hannah’s going to be convicted,” Tean said once they were walking again. “It’s not a comment on you personally.”
“A little bit it is.”
“No, they just don’t want to leave anything to chance. The defense attorney probably has her own private investigators that she uses.” Tean hesitated. “So you liked the job?”
Jem looked at him.
“I’m just asking,” Tean said, raising his free hand.
“That was a moment of weakness.”
“Understood.”
“Working is for chumps.”
“Got it.”
“And don’t get any ideas about making me work in a Walmart spraying down the toy department or helping old ladies try on pantyhose or chopping up horses for the meat case.”
“Have you never been to a Walmart?”
“I just liked, you know, having these skills and being kind of good at something.”
“Do you even know what a retail employee does? Why would you spray down toys?”
“Because kids get their grubby hands on everything. Will you please focus?”
“What if I paid you?”
“What?”
“I’ll pay you to help prove that Hannah’s innocent.”
“I’m not taking your money. I only accept trade in the form of sexual favors.”
“Jem, I’m serious. You’re good at this, and it could be a really great launching-off point for you to do this professionally. We’d have to see about getting you licensed, but if you could say that you saved an innocent woman from conviction, then you’d have people pounding down your door to get you to work for them.”
They cut across a grassy swath toward the pond. Ahead of them, a black boy was sitting against a tree, knees to his chest, eyes glued to a book; two younger boys who might have been his brothers were throwing rocks into the water.
“You can’t afford me,” Jem said.
“Don’t worry about that part.”
“I’m not dumb, Tean. I know you’re kind of, you know, strapped.”
“I said don’t worry about that. I don’t want to talk about money with you. I just want you to say yes or no.”
“No.”
“Jem!”
“We’ll do this together. You’re my friend; I’m not going to take your money. The rest of it, like a job down the