Page 156 of His Boys to Protect

They finally got back to Paso Robles after what felt like hours. The same distance seemed to take so much longer now that Ward had so much to look forward to. He headed back down Spring Street, turned into his apartment complex, and led the way inside.

Ward paused at the security door, realizing it wasn't locked. When he tried the main door, he found the knob itself was locked but the deadbolt was not. Ward frowned. Maybe Skylar had walked somewhere and hadn't felt the need to set the deadbolts when he got back?

They stepped inside, and while Charlie went directly to the bedroom, signing that he was going to unpack, Ward stood there in silence and glanced around.

The apartment was too quiet.

“Sky?”

Ward waited, getting no response. He took off his boots and left them by the door, then started moving through the apartment.

A piece of paper on the kitchen counter stopped him in his tracks.

Ward felt his entire body run cold. He picked up the paper and found a stack of cash beneath it.

Then he read the words.

This is almost everything I have left. I know it probably doesn't cover what you've spent on me, so I'll try to send more when I can. I'm sorry. –Sky

Ward strode into the bedroom, clutching the note in his fist. He found Charlie standing in front of the closet, holding a shirt in one hand and a hanger in the other, staring at an empty space where Skylar's clothes had been. Ward sank heavily onto the end of the bed, feeling all his dreams shatter at his feet once again.

Skylar was gone.

Chapter 55

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SKYLAR

SKYLAR PAID the rideshare driver and got out of the car. He hesitated on the sidewalk, looking at the small, municipal airport terminal that stood before him. Skylar tightened his grip on his bag. Here he was, once again. Homeless and alone.

At least he actually had clothes this time. Not like that day when his parents had so cruelly kicked him out. Hell, even having a toothbrush was a blessing. Plus, he had money now. Not much—not after he'd paid for his surgery and then left some money for Ward—but maybe just enough to buy a plane ticket. Maybe enough to get a room for a night in a cheap motel, wherever he wound up.

Skylar sucked in a breath, stifling the urge to turn around and go back. He couldn't do that. Ward could let him go too easily. Even Charlie could run back home at the drop of a hat, leaving Skylar behind. It was better for him to do this now. To run away before they could tell him it was time to leave.

Because that day surely would have come at some point. Skylar couldn't bear to face it. He could have stuck around and absorbed whatever happiness came his way, putting off the inevitable. But the pain then would be worse than it was now.He'd never survive having Ward or Charlie—or both—tell him it was over.

Definitely safer to leave now, on his own terms.

Skylar drew himself up and strode inside. He joined a short line and waited his turn, idly glancing around without really seeing anything. It was all he could do not to cry. He had to keep everything hidden away. Only once he had arrived somewhere and had a locked door between himself and the world, then he could let it all go.

The wait in line gave him time to consider his options. He pulled out his wallet and counted what cash he had left. There was still some money left in his bank account, too, but he wanted to save that as a buffer, as a safety net off of which to rebuild his life once he got somewhere.

Should he pick the cheapest flight, regardless of when it left or where it was headed? Should he pick the soonest flight? Or should he splurge on whatever flight took him the farthest distance?

The latter would be the safest choice. The farther he went, the harder it would be to get back. And he couldn't come back. He couldn't weaken from his resolve. Besides, this had always been the plan. For over ten years, he'd envisioned this moment. Going as far away as he could possibly get, somewhere nobody knew him. Where nobody would look at him and know automatically that he was a whore.

But could he truly escape that? What would he say when he went to apply for a job? He'd run into the same roadblocks no matter how far away he went, trailing his work history behind him like an enormous chain, dragging and clanking and choking him.

Skylar shuddered at the thought.

“Next!” someone called.

Skylar blinked, realizing they were talking to him. He looked all around, the last one in line, then strode forward, tightening his grip on his bag. “I need a flight,” he began lamely, then felt himself blushing at the stupidity of the request.

The clerk didn't comment. “What's your destination?”

Skylar hesitated. Where could he go? He still hadn't decided. Feeling his face go hot, he pulled out his money and set it on the counter. “How far will this get me?”

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