Definitely an underaged kid. Fuck.
I ignored my strangely overpowering reaction to the kid. I felt outraged on his behalf. And something else . . . I felt protective.
Great. Just call me mama bear. This is the last thing you need, Shane.
“Get up,” I growled, my voice unintentionally harsh. I wasn’t happy with the intense rush of emotions I was feeling. The kid stood awkwardly, staring at me. He was brave, I gave him that. He didn’t cower. If anything, he looked pissed off.
I smiled suddenly. Fuck if I wasn’t impressed.
“What’s your name?”
“Parker.”
“Where are your folks?”
“Don’t got any.”
Oh, yeah, this kid gave zero fucks. He wasn’t scared. He was over it.
I knew how he felt.
“You hungry, kid?”
He gave me a look of pure distrust. I almost laughed. He was so filthy, even a pervert who picked up runaway teens wouldn’t be interested.
“I’m not for sale.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, kid. How old are you, anyway?”
“Nineteen. Almost.”
“Bullshit.” I leaned back on my heels, considering. The kid needed help. And the way he was holding his ribs made me think he was beat up a lot worse than he was letting on. Something about him pulled at my heartstrings. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“Grab some food.” I don’t know what made me say it but I did. It must be because he reminded me of Billy. It had to be. “You got a place to stay?”
He shrugged and looked away.
I sighed, knowing that for whatever reason, I was not walking away from this kid.
“Come on. I promise I don’t bite.”
To my surprise, the kid followed me. I cursed when I saw how badly he was limping.
“You a runaway?” I asked, thinking about Casey, the kid that Mason had taken in. She was all grown up now with kids of her own and a pain in the ass husband. But if she hadn’t met Mason . . . she could be dead. This kid was in the same boat. And pretty as he was, I was sure someone would take advantage of that, if they hadn’t already.
“I’m not a runaway. I’m eighteen. I just . . . left.”
“Before you had a job or anywhere to go, I’m guessing.”
The kid shrugged and then winced. Fuck, the kid was in bad shape. I’d get him cleaned up and then figure out what to do with him. I highly doubted he had health insurance, that was for damn sure.
“Here, put this on,”
I handed him my helmet. I almost always rode without it, something I never would have done before Billy. Now I was almost addicted to taking risks.
I wasn’t even sure why I kept it around.
“It’s okay. I know I’m going to have to sanitize it after,” I teased.
The kid put the helmet over his cap. It was still loose. I tightened it under his chin, accidentally touching the soft skin there. Not even peach fuzz on his face. I shook my head.
Eighteen, my ass.
Chapter Two
Parker
I stared at my plate, willing myself to forget. The guy sitting across from me was staring at me a little too closely. I was trying to think fast, all while ignoring how unbelievably gorgeous he was.
It was the last thing I wanted or expected to notice under the circumstances. I was cold. I was tired. I was starving. And I had just had a serious beatdown at the wrong end of three pairs of biker boots.
But it was impossible to ignore him as I picked at my food.
The man was too good-looking for words. Beautiful was the only word for it, really. Somehow, the tattoos, scars, and piercings only seemed to emphasize his perfect face. Those dark green eyes, a chiseled jaw, and what looked like an insanely cut body.
He was feeding me. I had no idea why. After the way he’d talked to those three guys, I had expected someone harsh. Scary even. I knew he thought I was a boy, and I wasn’t getting a perv vibe from him. But I couldn’t trust my instincts. Not anymore.
Not after everything that had happened.
“I know you are starving, kid. Eat something.”
I looked down at my plate. I had a cup of chicken noodle soup to the side. I pulled that in front of me, ignoring the club sandwich. I hadn’t eaten in so long, I was kind of afraid I might throw up.
I took a spoon and dipped it in, bringing it up to my mouth. If he was going to beat me up or worse, so be it. I wasn’t even slightly creeped out, but I hadn’t expected it from my stepfather either.
You are safe now. He can’t touch you ever again.
Even living on the streets was better than what I had left behind. I had narrowly escaped some dicey situations, but it didn’t matter. I was free. He couldn’t find me here.