Page 22 of Breaking You Open

“So what did you do?”

“I knocked him out.”

I lean forward in the chair, eyebrows raised. Interesting. Maybe there’s more to this boy than I first thought.

“And?”

“He knows where I live now. I can’t go back to the dorm. I have nowhere to go. Nowhere.” He wraps his arms harder around himself, face buried between his knees.

If he didn’t look so pitiful, I’d react more strongly to the truth that dawns on me, but as it is, I just lean back in the chair and cross my arms.

“If you’re asking me what I think you’re asking, there’s no fucking way, kid.”

He whips his head back up to me. “I’ll pay! I mean, not with money, but…I’ll clean! I can’t cook all that well though; Madame didn’t let us use the stove, and I never got much chance to—”

“Madame?”

“Oh, um, I lived in a foster home before I came here.”

Hmph. No wonder.

“I’m not gonna be some fucking babysitter, kid. You can stay here for a night or two, just until that psycho ex of yours loses interest, okay? But then you have to go.”

“He won’t lose interest,” Sparrow whispers. He stands up and hobbles over to me, and my eyes widen when he gets down on his fuckingknees. “He won’t give up until he’s got me. I can’t go back with him. Please. Please don’t make me go back.”

“If he’s that determined, how about just call the cops?”

“No,” he says, eyes pinched as he shakes his head. “Not the cops.”

I can respect that. The cops here in Springvale aren’t much to write home about, and a case like this—a lover’s quarrel with vague-to-nonexistent evidence? They’re unlikely to bother with it in the first place. Just like they didn’t bother with the girl who OD’d.

I’m ripped out of my thoughts when a small hand strokes my knee.

“I can suck your dick again,” Sparrow says, looking up at me with a pout on his pretty lips. “I’ll do it really well, I promise.”

“No,” I say gruffly and shove him away. I don’t put much strength into it, but Sparrow tips over and lands on his ass. He winces, and his expression shows more pain than I’d expect from a fall like that.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Everything I say comes out wrong.”

“No, it doesn’t.” I sigh and drag a hand over my face. “I’m sorry, kid.”

“I’m not a kid, you know.”

I cock an eyebrow. “To me, you are. I’m old enough to be your dad.”

A flush creeps up his cheeks, and I allow myself a moment to revel in his embarrassment. It’s not just embarrassment though…There’s something else, something twisted and wanting. It ties a string around my heart and tugs me unwillingly forward. I shift in the chair, feeling the first stir of hardness between my legs. It’s disturbing, and it should be. Sparrow is too young to see the wrong in it, but I have no right to feel like this for this boy half my age. This broken boy who has no one to help him and no wits about him to know when he should run as far away as possible. He has no idea…No idea what I’m really like.

He seems to gather enough of his wits to get to his feet and rub his sleeve over his eyes, wiping away unshed tears. “I guess I’ll go, then.”

“Wait.”

Sparrow whips his head back to me, eyes filled with hope.

I’m about to regret this decision. I just know it. My mouth twitches, and I don’t meet his gaze as I mutter, “You can stay.”

“Really?” He shines up with the sweetest smile of relief.

“But you’re sleeping on the couch.”

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