If I didn’t stop, I’d convince myself it was okay to be head over heels for the dude.
Being so wrapped up in my head, I didn’t notice the person in front of me until I ran straight into them, our shoulders clipping. I took a few steps back, holding my hands up apologetically.
“Shit, I’m so sorry—” The words died on my tongue as the snow on the ground enveloped me whole, crushing me from every side.
I almost didn’t recognize him without the crop top. When I saw his face, though, it all came rushing back to me.
He was the guy who confronted me the night I begged Price to break me. The one who stood there, orchestrating others to beat the shit out of me the way the Johns had been beating them.
We stared at each other, both of us seemingly frozen as the world kept moving around us. I should’ve run. I couldn’t, though, for some reason.
His hair was tucked into the hood of his jacket, and his hands were shoved deep into his pockets. Slowly, he pulled them out, and I tensed, ready for him to attack.
Instead, he shook his head solemnly. There were bags under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept in weeks. “I’m not gonna hurt you, man.”
“I didn’t see you. I swear I didn’t mean to run into you.”
“You’re good. What’s in the past is in the past.”
When he started to walk away, I knew I should’ve let him go. I didn’t want to start anything. I didn’t want to get hurt again.
But my stupid as shit brain just wouldn’t give up, so I yelled after him. “If I could change it, I would.”
I watched his back. He stopped and turned on his heel. In the sun, I could make out his light brown eyes. They were full of tears.
“Change what, man? Doing what we do—it’s rough shit. I shouldn’t have done that to you. We were just so sick and tired of—of getting thrown around.” His voice cracked as he spoke.
My heart cracked with him.
Stepping closer, I shook my head. “If I had any idea that taking a break would do this to y’all, I wouldn’t have done it.”
I flinched when he put a hand on my shoulder. He gripped metightly, tugging me closer until we were in a bubble of our own. “Listen to me,” he growled. “Listen to me real hard and answer honestly. You planning on coming back?”
I nodded.
“For the love of God, don’t. Don’t come back, Crew.”
My mouth opened in shock. The snow compacted me further, closing in tighter and tighter like it was trying its damned hardest to turn me into blue ice.
His brown eyes twinkled as they examined my face, a stray tear falling below his eyelid. “That guy said your name that night,” he explained hurriedly, just before shaking me lightly on the shoulder. “You got out, you stay out, ya hear me? You obviously have a choice that we don’t. That man who came and got you? Don’t take him for granted. Don’t take anything for granted. If you take shit for granted, you’re gonna lose it and then it’ll be too fucking late for you.”
I could hear my own breathing. It was faster. Choppier. I was barely holding onto what he was saying. He looked so sad. I could see it in his eyes, the way they lacked any soul.
Was this how Price saw me?
“Is it too late for you?” I asked.
The man nodded, more tears falling down his cheeks. “It was too late for me a long-ass time ago. You got demons, kid. I’ve heard enough about you to know that. But you’ve also got hope.”
I shook my head, telling him no. He couldn’t see how black my heart was or how damaged my body was.
“No, you do.” His voice rose a bit. “That guy—he beat the shit out of my friends. He came and rescued you. I saw it on his face, man. He’d do anything for you, and if you went back to the life, you’d be shitting all over not only your life but his. And once you do that, you’re done.”
My chest hurt. I could hardly feel my tongue, it was so numb. The only thing keeping me present was his hand on my shoulder, squeezing me. “Why are you telling me this?”
His tired, sad grin was a surprise. “Rent boys gotta have each other’s backs. Once a whore, always a whore and all that, right?”
“What about the Johns? If they’re hurting you?—”
