Page 38 of Love Heals
I saw myself, broken and bleeding on the street after I’d been stupid enough to demand money from a client with a knife. That was how my sire had found me, when I’d been on the verge of passing out.
I tried to close my eyes, block the memories, curl into myself. Form a ball so small and so tight that nothing could touch me anymore.
Nicolai had been right. My whole existence had been nothing but pain. My parents had kicked me out because I was gay, the hypocrites, and then I'd had to find a way to get by somehow. I'd managed.
But I couldn't help wondering if it had been worth it.
And then I heard a dog barking. I wasn't even sure if it was in my memories or in Jared's bedroom, but it made me snap out of my thoughts.
Somethings had been worth it. Definitely.
I searched for that scene Jared had shown me, needing to see it in my own mind. It was there, fully intact and beautiful. I even remembered the taste of chocolate chip ice cream on my tongue.
I remembered Jared smiling at me and feeling kind of warm and funny.
Holy shit.
Had I...?
Almost frantically, I searched the rest of my memories. Lots of moments spent roaming the streets with my friends, sometimes in search of money, sometimes in search of drugs. It wasn't all bad, though. There were happy moments there, in between. Sleeping with my friends under the open sky in the summer, looking up at the stars, letting my guard down and talking about how amazing life might be in the future when we would all be millionaires somehow. We'd have houses on the beach and cocktails every day.
Obviously, none of that had come to pass, but still, the memory made me feel warm, and a bit strange too. There was an emotion taking hold of me that I had trouble recognizing. Something like optimism, but not about my current state, about the future.
Hope.
That was what I'd felt back then. Not in great amounts, but still. I used to hang on to it, no matter how small it was. It was what got me through the bad days.
I hoped for a better life, easier work, a warm place to sleep in the winter. A boyfriend who wouldn't treat me like trash.
And I hoped that one day Jared would realize that he was totally not straight.
My throat grew even tighter at that memory. As if my mind was trying to be helpful, it supplied another visual. Of me and Jared, standing in an alleyway, not too far from the dumpsters that Felix claimed had the best food.
"You need some better clothes if you're going to be applying for jobs," Jared told me.
I looked down on myself. Sure, my clothes were a bit ratty from wearing them for so many days—and nights—but I thought I looked fine. "I'm never going to be 'respectable' if that's what you're shooting for," I said. "Doesn't matter what I wear, those people will take one look at me and know I'm a street rat.“
"That's not true," Jared said in that firm way he had, using the minimum amount of words for maximum efficiency.
"You know it is." I'd spent way too much time living this life to be able to hide that part of me. "I'll always be out here working the streets. I'm good with that."
"You could do a lot better."
"Nah. I know who and what I am." When Jared started to protest, I cut him off. "Really, it's fine." I gave him a small smile. "At least I'm free now." It had been good to get out from under my parents' thumb, even if I'd had to let go of some creature comforts. "It's kind of funny how they kicked me out because they didn't want me to be gay and now I'm sucking cock every other night to get by."
I almost didn't realize that I'd said that last part out loud until I saw Jared cringe. His discomfort wasn't super visible. He didn't do grand gestures or big emotions, but I could tell by the way his nose wrinkled as if he'd smelled something bad. I'd been studying him and his handsome features for long enough to know.
"I don't know how you can do your job and still cringe at the mention of blowjobs," I said.
"I wish you didn't have to do that."
"It's no big deal." I shrugged. Really, blowjobs were the least of my worry. I'd gotten good enough at them that they never lasted long anyway. Although with some guys you had to be careful not to make them blow too quickly or they'd complain they hadn't gotten their money's worth. Those were the worst.
Idly, I wondered what it would be like to give Jared a blowjob. If he were into that sort of thing—which he claimed he wasn't, even though I'd yet to meet a dude who wasn't into getting their cock sucked. Not all of my customers were gay—if you believed their words, anyway.
My eyes slid down Jared's body, coming to rest on his crotch area.
He tensed, as if he could tell exactly what was going through my mind.
