He was fourteen, a couple of years older than her. He didn’t look like he belonged on the streets. Parker had papers that certified his age and other important information, which he carried with him at all times. She had nothing like that. According to the government, she didn’t really exist. Lucian was working on obtaining legal documents for her, but it was difficult when there was no record of her existence.
There had always been something about Parker that said he’d been on the other side, known what it was like. He’d somehow known money well enough to hold disdain for wealth. He could read heavy hardcover books and loved to. He was cultured in a way only educated people were. There was a lot to envy about him.
Evelyn decided at an early age she would not become like the rest of the John and Jane Does out there. It had been her life’s objective to get a job and get off the streets. That was how she met Lucian. To those that knew her plight, it was easy to see how some might mistake her as a gold digger. But she and Lucian and those they trusted most knew the truth of it. Evelyn felt entitled to nothing of his wealth and had no interest in it. She only had a desire for earning her own money, not taking someone else’s.
Although she gave up her job as a maid at Patras, that didn’t mean she was turning into a kept woman. She had worked into the New Year, but her appearance in a service uniform began raising eyebrows when people recognized her as the woman on Lucian’s arm who’d been wearing an evening gown the night before. It was sort of weird working for, and sleeping with, the owner of the hotel. And there was no way she was giving up Lucian. So she gave up her job. Lucian was ecstatic, but she needed to start looking for a new one.
Lucian preferred her not to work, and while there was no immediate need for money, she’d been without her own income for almost a month, and that was enough. Income meant personal security. It was time for her to find new employment. She dreaded that discussion.
Her gaze drifted to Lucian. He was sitting at his desk, speaking softly into the phone. His reading glasses hung low on his nose, and he needed a shave. No one else saw him this way, vulnerable, relaxed. Heat spread in her chest. He was hers.
As she turned back to the television, her mind returned to Parker. Unlike Lucian’s strong presence Parker was . . . less intimidating. He was thinner, due to the difference in their lifestyles. Sometimes Parker had facial hair, usually in the colder months, but when he shaved, his skin still had a youthful glow Lucian’s lacked. Lucian was a man. Evelyn still saw Parker as a boy only slightly older than herself.
Shortly after she and Parker met, he had come to her rescue. She could still recall the shock of seeing him attack Slim, a disgusting pervert who lived at the tracks. Slim had come into the abandoned mill she and her mother occupied. Pearl had gotten in the habit of trading herself for drugs, mostly heroin. One day Slim came by and Pearl wasn’t there.
He entered what Scout considered their private space and seemed reluctant to leave. Scout wasn’t ignorant about certain things, even at her young age, but she was taken off guard when Slim touched her. No one touched her in those places. She’d pushed his grubby hand away, repulsed by how filthy his fingers were, but he only pushed back. Instinctively, when his grip on her thigh tightened, she screamed and Parker came running.
She’d been so confused and upset she began to cry, something she never allowed herself to do in front of others at the tracks. After dealing with Slim, Parker held her and promised her she would be all right. He had become a force of his own to reckon with, shocking her with how lethal he could become when pushed. Nothing made sense that day. Parker somehow crossed into her personal space the way no one else on the streets ever could.
It wasn’t until after the fact that she realized they were friends. On the streets she was known as Scout because she was excellent at scouting out good finds. She knew the underbelly of Folsom like the back of her hand. She was a survivor, determined to get out and make a real life for her and Pearl. Scout didn’t have friends. Caring for those on the streets would only hold her to that unfavorable part of her existence. But Parker had become one.
A cold chill ran through her as she wondered where he was now. He was smart, smarter than the rest of them. It was Parker who taught her the basics of reading, giving her enough knowledge to land a halfway decent job. Television was unavailable where they were from, but the Folsom library was a public place. Parker spent most of his days entertaining himself with books. He sometimes took her with him. Those days were her favorites.