Page 6 of Damaged

I could still feel the tingling in my right hand. It was like his soft skin was still caressing my roughened fingers.

My body still ached but not just with pain. There was a much stronger sensation washing over me as I thought about how close I’d come to tasting the young man as I’d fumbled with the seat belt. His body had been trembling as I’d drawn the belt across his chest and lap, but I instinctively knew it hadn’t been because he was afraid of me. And the way his voice had rattled when he’d said that curse word under his breath—my addled brain wouldn’t stop trying to convince me that it had meant something.

I just had no clue what.

I forced myself to focus on the road and soon lost track of time. The pain pills had finally taken the edge off and the rain had slowed to a light mist.

“Where are we?” the kid asked. Like me, he was focused on the road. He glanced at the scenery every now and then, but he mostly stared at the asphalt in front of us.

I realized I had no idea where we were. I had to look at the GPS screen.

“We’re still in Vermont. Next town is Windsor,” I responded.

“Can you drop me off at the bus station there?”

His question surprised me even though it probably shouldn’t have.

“I doubt it’s a big enough town to have a bus station. It might have local bus lines?—”

“How far to the next big city?” the kid interrupted. He sounded nothing like the young man who’d whispered the apology after the seat belt fiasco.

“Not sure,” I lied. “Where are you planning on going?” I had a bad feeling about where this conversation was heading. The kid literally had nothing on him except my clothes. When I’d put his wet ones in the back of the SUV, I hadn’t felt a wallet or even a cell phone.

The kid didn’t answer me. Instead, he settled his eyes on the passing scenery. The sun was just breaking through the clouds. A faint rainbow was peeking through the dark sky, but I couldn’t find any pleasure in it.

“Do you even have the money for a bus ticket?” I asked.

Still no response.

“Look, kid?—”

“I’m not a kid,” the young man snapped as he jerked his head in my direction.

His hostility caught me off guard. If he had anything else to say, he kept it to himself.

“How old are you?” I asked after a long beat of silence.

I didn’t think he was going to respond until he said, “I’m not sure.”

“What—?” I began to ask but he cut me off.

“I’m not a kid,” he bit out. “I may not know how to put on a fucking seat belt or tell you when my birthday is, but I know what a few minutes on my knees will get me.”

The last part of his statement held little emotion, though his words still made my stomach churn. I had a million questions but managed to remind myself that the kid’s problems had nothing to do with me. Yeah, the kid was important to Jace, but that didn’t obligate me to do anything except let Jace know where I ended up dropping him off.

I didn’t respond to the young man’s words, and I was glad he didn’t ask me again about where the next bus station would be. The idea of him falling prey to a pimp looking for his next source of income or some guy looking for a hard fuck or rough blow job made me sick. Despite his bruises, I could still see that his young-looking features held both masculine and feminine qualities, but my gut was telling me he wasn’t a minor.

None of your business, Dalton.

The silent reminder had me thinking about my plans when I got home. Pills, booze, and best of all, the silence that only came from being alone.

The words did nothing to ease the anger and denial running through my veins. Visions of the gorgeous young man being used in some bathroom stall or dirty motel room made me want to rip the faceless men to pieces. Chances were the money he was planning to make for things like food or rent would ultimately go up his nose or in his arm instead.

“There,” the kid said as he pointed to a sign on the side of the road that showed how many miles we were from different cities. “New York,” he added. “Two hundred and fifty miles. Are we going past there?”

It was all I could do not to slam on the brakes and jerk the SUV onto the shoulder so I could shake some sense into the kid.

I didn’t answer him. I could have easily lied and driven the backroads to avoid the bigger cities, but I was too pissed. I had no clue what the young man’s past held, but damned if I was going to let his naivety get him into a situation where he ended up dead or worse—wishing for death.

---