Once more, the response was almost immediate.Everything okay, angel?
Panic bubbled up within him. No, everything wasn’t okay. Everything sucked. His life sucked. This place sucked. His dancing sucked. He needed to get out of there.Can you come get me or should I just walk home?
He sounded like a brat, he knew it, but he just couldn’t stop himself.
Javier: I’m on my way. It’ll take about twenty minutes with traffic. Don’t go anywhere without me.
Bowie’s heartbeat slowed knowing he would be free of this place soon. He didn’t care where they went. He just needed to be anywhere but there.Pick me up around back?
Javier: Yeah, I can do that.
Twenty minutes was more like thirty, but it felt like years with Bowie looking at his phone’s clock face every minute that passed. When a black Charger crawled through the alley behind the company, Bowie didn’t leave the building, even though he’d seen Javier get into that same vehicle the day he’d approached him at the police station.
The vibration of an incoming text made him jump.You coming, angel?
Bowie didn’t answer, just pushed open the door, jogged down the steps and hopped in. “Nice car. Thanks for coming to get me.”
Javier frowned. “Where’s your bag?”
Bowie looked down like it would somehow magic itself into his lap, but it was still in the studio. He shrugged. “I must have forgotten it. One of my roommates will grab it for me later.” He hoped.
Javier raised a brow. “You sure?”
Bowie nodded.
“Whatever you say,” Javier said, switching gears as he pulled out onto the busy street. “Seatbelt.”
Bowie nestled himself into the buttery leather seat, doing as Javier commanded. “Your car smells new.”
Javier laughed. “Nah. I’ve had it about a year now.”
“Being a child advocate must pay really well,” Bowie said, glancing at Javier before his gaze slid to the gearshift where his hand lay. Bowie liked his hands. They looked like he worked for a living, his nails too short, still a little dirty, probably from rescuing cats all morning. Bowie’s tongue darted out to wet his lower lip as he watched Javier’s hand tighten and release as he smoothly shifted gears.
Nothing about the movement should have been sexy but, somehow, it was. Everything about Javier just did it for Bowie’s fractured mind. His dirty jeans, his black t-shirt that revealed heavily tattooed arms. The swirls of color were dizzying.
“I don’t get paid for that.”
Bowie dragged his gaze from Javier’s hand to settle on his profile. “What do you get paid for?”
Javier chuckled. “Now? Nothing. I’m in-between jobs.”
“How do you afford a car like this if you’re unemployed?”
Javier turned, looking Bowie up and down in that way that made him feel naked. “What’s the matter, angel? Afraid you’re aiding and abetting a criminal?”
“Maybe?” he asked, almost positive it didn’t matter if Javier was a criminal. This was how girls got dragged into all kinds of trouble inLifetimemovies. Hot bad boys with shiny toys. But Bowie couldn’t imagine anything worse than he’d already endured. Not even death.
“Rest assured. I didn’t actually rob a bank. Consider me like…a trust fund baby.”
“So, somebody else pays your bills?” Bowie asked before snapping his mouth shut.
Javier once more hooked a brow upwards. “You sure you want to know the answer to that question?”
Bowie shrugged, gazing out the windshield at the man directly in front of them in a BMW convertible. “I don’t know. Will the answer get me whacked or something?”
“Whacked?” Javier repeated, giving Bowie that cocky smile. “Nah, angel. I trust you to keep my secrets.”
Warmth pooled low in Bowie’s belly at the smooth timbre of Javier’s words. “Why’s that?”
