He hoped.
He felt a little sick as they removed his shirt. They had him sit backwards on a kitchen chair they dragged into the bathroom. It was a small room, barely big enough for Atticus and Ever, but Arsen squeezed himself between the wall and the chair, crouching down so Ever could peer down at him over the back.
“I’m going to give you a shot to numb the area,” Atticus said, voice abrupt but not unkind. Like when Jennika had taken him to her doctor friends. The ones who never filed paperwork.
Once more, Arsen moved his head until he was looking Ever in the eye, then smiled. “Just look at me, okay?”
Ever nodded, wrapping his hands around the dowels that made up the chair back, gripping tightly until his knuckles were white. There were a couple of small pinches and a bit of a burn, but then nothing, really. Just a weird tugging sensation.
Arsen suddenly stuck his tongue out. Ever couldn’t stop himself from smiling, so he covered his mouth. That seemed to make Arsen sad. Arsen’s hands closed around Ever’s wrists, gently tugging his hands away from his mouth. When Ever stopped smiling, Arsen’s expression went from encouraging to…something else. Disappointment.
Ever’s heart plummeted to his feet. He was already upsetting him. His brain cycled through a million scenarios he’d used to try to placate Jennika in the past, none of which seemed the right one, so he did the only thing he could think of. He stuck his tongue out at him, too, mirroring the gesture. The relief that spread across Arsen’s face mirrored the relief spreading through Ever like the numbing medicine in his back, dulling the panic. Crisis averted.
This was exhausting. Reading new people was hard. He was so tired. Still, when Arsen smiled, he smiled back. When he stuck his tongue out, he returned the motion. That seemed to make him happy. Ever really just wanted him to stay happy.
Would Arsen be so silly if he knew Ever was nineteen and not a little kid? In the dark, it was easy to mistake him for a child. He was short, small, often wearing clothing too big for him. Jennika had liked it that way. She wanted her friends to see him as a child. It made him worth more money.
When he was clean and his clothes fit him, he looked his age. At least, he thought he did. Shame shot through him like an electric current. When had he last showered? When was he last allowed to brush his teeth? Arsen must think he was disgusting. Unhygienic. He wasn’t. He liked being clean. But he’d been in that closet for a while. He didn’t even know how much time had passed.
“It’s out,” Atticus said. “I was able to close it with some sterile glue. Just keep it covered when you shower.”
Ever didn’t acknowledge the other man. He wasn’t sure he was allowed to. He didn’t know the rules. Would Arsen explain them or would he only tell him once he’d broken one, letting his punishment seal it into his memory?
“Leave the chip here,” the other man—the one Arsen called Coe—told them. “If someone is monitoring it, it will be a while before anybody knows he’s missing.”
Arsen stood. “Thanks.”
When they were gone, Arsen removed the gun from his pocket, slipping it into the waistband of his jeans. He then grabbed the hem of his pink hoodie, yanking it over his head. Ever stared at the strip of tan skin that appeared before his eyes over the waistband of Arsen’s jeans, following the trail of hair that disappeared below. He blinked as the t-shirt Arsen wore underneath slipped down to cover him once more.
Ever’s startled gaze locked on Arsen, his stomach curdling like old milk. Why was he taking his clothes off? Already? When he looked like this? Smelled like this? He needed time to prepare himself. He wasn’t ready.
But then, Arsen was holding the hoodie out to Ever, once more giving him that soft, patient smile. “Put this on. Your t-shirt has blood on it. People might notice.”
Ever hesitated, then took it, pulling it over his head. It was big on him, but it was still warm from Arsen’s skin. Ever grabbed the fabric, pressing it to his face and inhaling deeply. It smelled like him. Sort of like spice but also like flowers.
Ever’s eyes flew open when Arsen laughed. He must look crazy. His face flushed, and he felt hot to the tips of his ears. He dropped the sweatshirt, averting his eyes.
“Come on, little one. Let’s get you home.”
* * *
Home smelled like gasoline and motor oil and a little like dirt. Arsen lived in a mechanic’s shop. Well, not in it, but on top of it. The yellow lights from a small office allowed Ever to see the shadow of cars and a bank of glass windows at the top of a set of metal stairs.
That was where Arsen led him. Up the stairs to a small room with a couch, a TV, and a small kitchen.
“I know it’s small,” Arsen said, “but it’s clean and it’s safe. Okay?”
Ever nodded, turning in a circle. Unlike Jennika’s house, there were no lace doilies or tchotchkes everywhere. It also lacked the cloying scent of her perfume and the menthol cigarettes she smoked.
Ever much preferred the smell of Arsen’s shirt and even the garage.
“I need to run an errand for two minutes, okay?” Arsen said, holding up two fingers. “I’ll just be right over there.” He pointed to a door in the wall of the garage below. “Two minutes. Stay right here.”
He didn’t wait for Ever’s answer, just took off running, taking the stairs two at a time before crossing the shop and flinging open the door. Ever caught a glimpse of what looked like another kitchen. Did he own a restaurant?
Ever stayed just as he was, fingers twisted together inside the pocket of the hoodie. Time seemed to drip by until Arsen appeared again holding a pile of clothing. When he was standing back before him, he grinned, holding out the pile to Ever.
“These should fit. Do you want to take a shower?”
