The bench squeaked as somebody sat down beside him, an arm sliding around his shoulders. “Hey, hey, what’s good, homie?”
Cas glanced up at Thump, who dressed like he’d just escaped a game ofGrand Theft Auto. He was pale beneath his olive complexion, sickly almost, but the tears tattooed under his right eye told Cas not to underestimate the guy just because his jeans were big enough to smuggle a family of raccoons and he wore a black wife beater to show off numerous cryptic tattoos. In his hand, Thump held a king size Kit-Kat bar.
“You look hungry, kid. You want this?”
Part of Cas wanted to skip the theatrics and just tell Thump he knew what was expected of him and to get on with whatever the vetting process was for being paid for sex.
Cas looked Thump up and down, wondering if he’d have to fuck him first. He wasn’t exactly ugly, but in all of Cas’s fantasies he’d never pictured losing his virginity to a gangbanger named after a cartoon rabbit. But fuck, he really was hungry. “I’m starving.”
“You’re awfully young to be out here in the big, bad city all alone. Especially looking the way you look,” the guy said, sounding like a villain straight out of Central Casting.
Cas snatched the candy from Thump and tore it open, moaning obscenely as he stuffed two bars in his mouth at once. “What exactly do I look like?” he asked as he chewed.
“Five to ten at Rikers,” Thump said, giving a humorless laugh.
Cas knew he looked a little young for his age. He was only five foot nine, pale, and slightly built, bordering on gaunt now that his meals were few and far between. He was still attractive, objectively speaking. He’d never had problems with girls in school, other than not liking girls. He was sure there was some kind of market for pervs who liked boys with floppy black hair, deep blue eyes, and lips that were just a little too full. Cas was still sensitive about the size of his mouth. Ted, his step dad, had once joked that he could probably suction Cas’s lips to a window like a sucker fish. Cas sighed at the memory. Ted was a dick, but he wasn’t exactly wrong.
“You don’t remember me, huh?” Cas asked.
Thump narrowed his brown eyes. “No. We know each other?” Before Cas could respond Thump snapped his fingers. “Wait a second. Yeah. Yeah, I remember you. You were the one with the rolling bag. The fancy one. You had a weird name, too.” Cas didn’t think anybody who called himself Thumper had a right to call him names, but he said nothing. “Crispin? Carter? It was bougie, like that bag of yours.”
“Caspian.”
“Yeah, yeah. Caspian,” he said, confirming Cas’s own name for him. “What happened to your bag, bougie boy? You pawn it? Bet you didn’t get dick for it.”
Cas shook his head, raising his voice over the hiss of a bus’s brakes. “It got jacked two weeks ago.”
“From a shelter, right?” Cas’s eyes went wide at the older guy’s correct guess. “Yo, those people who run those places don’t give a fuck about protecting you or your shit. Now, see, if you run with me, any threat to you or your things would be met with swift and decisive action. People know not to fuck with me and mine.”
Cas blinked up at him, making his eyes as wide and innocent as he could muster. “What would I have to do…to be yours?”
Thump’s look turned predatory, like he was a velociraptor inJurassic Parkand Cas was the goat dangling from a rope. “Just be nice. You can be nice, can’t you? If you need help relaxing, I can hook you up with a little something for that, too.”
Cas dropped the innocent act and smirked at Thump. “Listen, I appreciate this whole seduction scene, but I know who you are and what you do. I know what you want me to do for you. I’ll go with you, but I have some conditions.”
Thump raised one dark brow, drawing Cas’s attention to the scar bisecting it. “Conditions?” he echoed, seeming unsure whether he was angry or confused.
Cas nodded. “Yeah, I want a say in who my clients are. I want money for food and a place to sleep every night. It doesn’t have to be fancy, but I want a bed that’s mine. Like,justmine.”
Thump grinned. “I like a man who knows what he wants. I’m sure—”
“Hey!” Cas yelped indignantly, his voice squeaking, like he was going through puberty again, as he was hauled up by his bicep.
Cas tried to shake himself loose, but the stranger held him in a vise-grip. “Walk. Now.”
“Hey, bitch. Who the fuck is you?” Thump snarled, rising from the bench with his hands curled into fists.
By the time Cas registered the stranger’s movement, Thump’s nose exploded on his face, blood flying everywhere. He grabbed his nose, screaming with rage. The scent of copper and gasoline mixed as blood poured over his chin and spattered the ground.
Holy shit. Who the fuck is this guy?
Before Cas could ask, the stranger was dragging him down the street by his arm. Cas did his best to keep up, but he had to take two steps for each one of the stranger’s. Not a single person paid them any attention. These people had to see the large man hauling Cas around against his will.
Cas’s heart was in his throat, but he wasn’t sure if he was mad or scared or just…excited. Was he being kidnapped? Did guys who looked like this dude kidnap people? That probably wasn’t an appropriate response to a life threatening situation. He was sure not all kidnappers were ugly, but were any of them cream-your-jeans hot? Because this guy, with his dirty blonde hair, square jaw, and generous stubble…he was gorgeous. Not in a pretty supermodel way, but in a dangerous does-he-want-to-kiss-me-or-kill-me kind of way.
“Who are you?” The toe of Cas’s converse sneaker caught on a crack in the sidewalk, causing him to trip and almost go down. The man righted him without a word. “Hello?” Cas tried again. “Is this a kidnapping? Should I be in fear for my life? I’ll scream, you know.”
Suddenly, he was free. It was such a surprise that he didn’t stop walking, even when the man turned to face him. Cas walked right into his muscular chest, making an “oof” sound as he stumbled backward.
