Not that he even twitched, he was still knocked out cold. And unlike in the movies, my wooden chair hadn’t shattered on impact or anything helpful like that. Nope, I was still just as trapped, but now I was sideways on the floor, my head on Jeremiah’s chest.

I bowed my head into his warmth as his huge chest moved up and down rhythmically in his unnatural sleep.

And unable to do anything else, I let the tears flow.

20

Jeremiah

No. Fuck no. I couldn’t be back here. I’d escaped. I’d escaped and gotten me and Reece as fucking far away from here as quickly as humanly possible.

So why couldn’t I move?

I heard her voice, their voices, in my head. Always in my head. I was blindfolded on the bed. She’d wanted it that way and though I’d been uncomfortable with the idea, I’d agreed.

It was just supposed to be one night.

What was one stupid night of my life compared to me and Reece’s future? It was no contest. Reece had been at death’s door when I dropped him off at the shelter earlier tonight. They’d only had space for one more so I pushed him inside and ran.

And then hit the streets the way so many of our peers did.

Enough. It was all fucking enough. Me and Reece had gone to the streets to escape the foster system, but we’d turned eighteen four months ago. It was time to get us the fuck outta here.

But to do that, we needed money. And more than we’d get from a good Saturday juggling or picking pockets at the park.

My jaw flexed as I sorted through possibilities.

The solution was obvious.

If I was honest with myself, I always knew it would come down to this. A shudder went through my body the more I thought about it. Then I hiked up my backpack and held my head high. I wasn’t going to sit here and wallow in my sad little life like a damn baby.

I lifted an arm over my head in a futile attempt to protect myself from the rain and then started jogging in the direction of Polk Street.

The jog didn’t do much to warm me up since all my clothes were soaked through. I saw a few other figures dotted up and down the street when I got to Polk. They all stood on the sidewalk near the curb.

Hawking their wares.

Their bodies.

Most of the other street kids Reece and I knew did it. They talked about their ‘clients’ like it was no big deal. And it wasn’t really. Not compared to another night of seeing Reece suffering, sick, and never knowing if we’d have a roof over our heads for the night or not.

I hesitated only one more moment before dropping my backpack, then pulling my jacket off and tying it around my waist. My soaked shirt was molded to my chest. I ran a quick hand through my hair.

I hadn’t had a proper shower in a few weeks but me and Reece were far more conscientious about personal hygiene than most of our fellow unhoused. I always made sure we had a stick of deodorant between us and we sponged down every time we had access to a bathroom.

I looked up and down the road. Cars continually drove past but none slowed down. It was only around eight o’clock. Maybe too early for this sort of thing.

I rocked back and forth on my toes, shoving my hands in my jeans pocket. Christ, was I supposed to do something other than stand here? Was there some secret wave I should make at the passing drivers to let them know I was open for business? How the fuck did this work?

But just as I was thinking that, a beat-up gold-toned Buick with peeling paint slowed down and pulled over in front of where I was standing.

I peered at the car, taking a step forward. Between the darkness and the drizzling rain, I couldn’t make out the driver. Were they just looking for a parking spot or—

The passenger side window rolled down and I cringed when I saw the face that emerged. The driver was leaning over to peer at me. He was a red-faced guy with about three chins and a case of adult acne. He looked me up and down in a way that made my stomach queasy.

“Fifty to blow me,” the guy said.

I backed away, hands up. “Hey man, I’m not into that.” It was just an impulse response. I wasn’t stupid. I knew most of the pickups here were dudes looking for… but no. Just no. Not my first time.

The guy scowled at me. “Fuck you.” The car wheels screeched as he pulled back into traffic.

“Hey. You.”

I looked behind me and saw a couple guys headed my direction.

“Yeah, you. Who you think you are, crashing our spot?”


Tags: Stasia Black Stud Ranch Erotic