Page 91 of His Boys to Protect

“Sky?” Ward murmured. “Anything in the bathroom you need?”

“Shit,” Skylar gasped. He ran for the bathroom and flung open the medicine cabinet. How could he forget? He snatched down his toothbrush, hairbrush, razor, and deodorant, but those weren't nearly as important as the rest. Skylar grabbed his supplements, syringes, and a vial of testosterone. “Damn it.”

“What's wrong?” Ward asked.

“This is my last one. I'll need another one in two weeks, but if I leave the city–”

“Hush, kitten,” Ward murmured, coming up behind him in the bathroom. He caught Skylar's gaze in the mirror. “We'll figure all that out once we've got you settled, okay? I'll take you to the pharmacy myself. First thing tomorrow morning, if you want. I promise.”

Skylar started to nod in agreement, then gasped again. “Shit. I need to go to the bank. Get the rest of my money–”

“Sky, easy. It's Sunday. The bank's closed. What bank do you use?” Ward asked. When Skylar rattled off the name, Ward gave him a smile. “We have a branch down in Paso. We'll go as soon as they open tomorrow, okay? And there's a good pharmacy right next door.” Ward bent down, putting them at eye level. “Everything's gonna be fine, sweetheart. It's over.”

Skylar shook his head. It wasn't over yet. Not until he walked out that door for good.

“Do you have everything?” Ward asked.

“Um.” Skylar sniffed and wiped at his eyes. “I think so.” He dropped his toiletries and injection supplies into his duffel bag and yanked the zipper shut again.

“You don't want any of your other clothes?”

“Fuck, no,” Skylar gasped. “I'm not a girl. I don't want anything to do with that part of my life.”

“Okay. Anything else in here?” Ward asked, waving at the tiny bathroom.

Skylar scanned the room, shaking his head. The makeup could all go in the trash, as far as he was concerned. Same with the feminine clothing in the closet. And the wigs and hair pieces. The high heels, the nylons, all of it. He neededSarahto be officially dead.

“Any pictures? Mementos? Anything sentimental from Charlie?”

Skylar shook his head again. Whatever pictures he had, were all on his phone. As for gifts, he and Charlie had never given one another anything but time. That had always been all Skylar wanted. And he hadn't wanted to risk losing any tangible gifts again. He kept picturing that horrible dumpster in the driveway, all his worldly belongings—Charlie's gifts included—heaped and broken like so much garbage. After that happened, he'd begged Charlie never to buy him anything again. Skylar had claimed that hoodie when Charlie decided to get rid of it a few years back, though. Charlie had outgrown it, and that winter had been particularly brutal.

Still, he did as Ward said and searched the apartment one more time. There was nothing else, though. Everything he'd planned to take—everything that mattered—was in that bag or on his body. His own clothes. His toiletries. His money.

Skylar sucked in a breath and tore into his duffel. Did he get all the money? What if he'd missed one? What if he'd counted wrong?

He dug out the plastic bags and counted them again.That was eleven, right?He shook his head and counted once more, but he wasn't sure he could trust his own mind just then.

Ward laid a hand on his. “Sky? How many are there supposed to be?”

Skylar looked up at him, his lower lip trembling as he searched the man's face. Ward could have questioned his lifestyle choices or commented on the abysmal conditions of his apartment, but all the man had done was encourage and support him. Look after him. “Um.” Skylar ran a shaky hand back through his hair. “Eleven. There's supposed to be eleven.”

“Okay.” Ward pointed at each one as he counted aloud, then did it again, dragging each bag to one side, doing it all slowly, deliberately, making sure Skylar watched. “They're all there, Sky,” Ward said, giving him a gentle smile. He could have easily pried into why Skylar hid money around his apartment. Could have lectured him on the rationality—to say nothing of the risk—of such a decision. But Ward said none of that. It didn't even show up on his face.

How had he gotten so lucky as to meet this man?

Skylar had to shove that thought aside as he crammed each plastic bag back into his duffel, hiding the money underneath his clothes, then zipped the bag shut one last time.

“You ready?” Ward asked.

Skylar gathered up the bag in his arms, hugging it to his chest, and nodded.

“Okay. Let's get out of here.”

Skylar followed Ward out into the hallway. He didn't even spare the apartment another glance before he pulled the door shut behind him. Skylar left the door unlocked. It wasn't like he was ever coming back, and there was nothing in there worth securing.

They went downstairs and stopped in the building's entryway. Skylar pulled out his keys again and grabbed his mail, realizing he was going to need some kind of forwarding address, not to mention stopping the utilities to his apartment.

“Sky,” Ward murmured just as Skylar's chest started heaving. “You don't have to worry about anything today. We'll figure it all out tomorrow.” Ward gently took the mail from his hand and stuffed it into a side pocket on the duffel bag. “We'll get everything handled. Okay?”

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