Staying alive’s an achievement. Hell, I haven’t seen another soul in the past two days. Longer before then. Most of the time I feel like I’m the last man on Earth.
“Gimme your food.” That sly tongue darts out, wetting cracked lips. It’s the only tell in his poker face.
The ruthless part of me wakes up, the part that does what it takes to play this grim new game we’ve all been made to play. But I have an advantage being I was special forces before everything changed.
I meet his gaze. “Yeah, that ain’t happening.”
My refusal doesn’t faze him. Those shrewd blue eyes sum me up, calculating. I smirk again, hoping to agitate him enough to show a weakness.
He takes it in stride, but the gears grind behind those intense eyes that travel over me, most likely noting my height, health, and relaxed stance despite the knife.
All things I’d be paying attention to if roles were reversed.
One wrong step out here earns you a shallow grave—if you’re lucky. Death is a luxury compared to the other atrocities people have endured.
The set of his bony shoulders says he knows he’s outmatched. Smart kid, even if he has no idea the government made me into a cold-blooded killer long before society went tits up. But it just honed my skills further.
And despite the slight lines of silver beginning to thread through my brown hair, I’m still a weapon.
He doesn’t stand a chance.
“I’ll trade you,” he rasps, voice rough but steady as shadows cut his sharp cheekbones.
I eye the backpack crossing his shoulders. Maybe he’s actually got something worth trading.
But instead of finding out, I shrug, bored tone on point. “Doubt you got anything worthwhile enough to trade me.”
He rolls with it, those discerning eyes cataloging the street’s resources and weaknesses. I dig his awareness. If not for him likely knifing me in my sleep, I’d team up with the kid.
“I’ll trade sex then,” he says with a bold glint in his eyes.
Only, color rises on his neck the moment the words leave his mouth, and I bark out a laugh. This kid’s got balls, I’ll give him that, even if it appears he might be regretting the offer.
His lip twitches into a little snarl, and he juts his chin out. “Heard you four nights back—with the guy in the store. You took payment in pleasure.”
Well, fuck me sideways.
I hadn’t noticed him lurking around.
Guess I was too busy rutting.
Met a former accountant by chance. He gave my package a look and offered himself for the night in exchange for the meat I was getting ready to roast.
Sex—human contact in general—is rare and fleeting out here. So, it’s become a form of currency.
No way I was turning the accountant down. Been alone too long. Ended up doing him twice that night and once more come dawn. We parted ways with no drama.
But this kid got close enough to hear the exchange yet evaded me noticing him.
Fuckin’ hell.
A low growl escapes my lips, shoulders squaring on instinct. I’ve never appreciated being stalked. “You watched me?”
His Adam’s apple bobs, his neck reddening even more.
My cock starts to swell a bit and I give his lean frame another look. His offer’s not a bad one, and his audacity intrigues me. Even embarrassed, he holds my gaze like a defiant little shit.
Not gonna lie, love the fact he watched me dominate the accountant. Railed that hole real good.
