I’d wanted nothing else but to wrap him up in my arms and shelter him. I knew better, though. He’d be here for a few weeks, then he’d never be heard of again.
I highly doubted he’d accept the offer of help, so I brushed it off as I left the house, those wide, green eyes haunting me.
Out on the porch, I met with the undercover officer. His dark eyes told me he knew the entire story, and he wasn’t going to tell me anything—which was what made him so damn good in my books.
I could easily find out more on my own, but it wasn’t my business. I had other matters that needed my attention. Worrying about a boy wasn’t on my to-do list.
Least of all one who would be on his way with a new identity in a matter of weeks.
“He okay in there?” Fred asked, tipping his chin towards the door that was shut behind me. His hands were in his pockets, maybe in an attempt to stop himself from doing exactly what I’d wanted to do.
“He seems a bit freaked out, to be honest.”
“He shouldn’t be alone in there.” His forehead wrinkled even more than it always was. Reading people always made things a bit more complicated, especially when the person in front of me was filled with so much worry. “He’s just a kid. What he’s—” He stopped himself short.
“I’ll pop in again tomorrow,” I said, hoping to make it seem like whatever was just about to be said wasn’t a huge deal. “Make sure he’s okay.”
“Thanks. I’ll let Luke know. But the kid really shouldn’t be here.”
Fred was right. Emery would be better off in a group home, as they had been created for such purposes. There were a number of places made to look like a teenage or young adult half way house to keep witnesses protected across the country. They appeared to be a group of troubled people more often than not, and greatly overlooked by the town all over the country.
Our small town was one of the many places that housed a few witness protection clients. I was just the lucky bastard to help keep an eye on things because of who I was.
“Have you seen him with your own eyes?” I couldn’t help asking, glancing back at the door, almost wishing it’d open.
Fred shook his head, lips clamped shut. “Just a glimpse when he got in early this morning. Enough to tell me this isn’t the place for him.”
Emery
Iwasn’t sure what protested more, my body or my bladder. I hadn’t moved more than an inch from the couch. And now, I was certainly paying the price in more than one way.
If I didn’t move soon—in, like, the next thirty seconds—I’d likely pee my pants. I didn’t want to find out what would happen if I did and ruined the couch. Sure, it may not be brand new, but I highly doubted the person who owned it would care about that little fact.
You’re a pig.
Gritting my teeth, I slowly willed my legs to uncurl and hold my weight. When I was sure I wasn’t going to fall over, I shuffled one foot along with the other. I used the furniture and walls to help support my weight.
My ribs cried out in protest. My legs threatened to buckle.
My bladder sighed in relief as I finally stood in front of the toilet. After I was done, I flushed and washed my hands.
Above the sink was an oval mirror, one I happened to look up at. I hadn’t seen my reflection since that fateful day when my life really took a turn.
I looked like death run over. Dark bags surrounded my eyes as though I hadn’t slept for weeks. Heck, maybe I hadn’t. One side of my face was bruised in light colors, finally fading. I was lucky nothing was broken, or so the doctors had said.
Some of the black hair on my head was sticking up this way and that from when I’d last had a shower, which was the day I was released. That now felt like a long time ago, too. Some of the strands also covered one eye partially.
Shaking the thoughts from my mind, I stripped after turning my back on my reflection.
A face only a mother could love.
Turning the shower on, I didn’t wait for it to warm up before stepping under the spray. The cold hit my back first, causing everything to tense up for a moment before I released the breath I held.
Finding soap already out on the shelf, I washed as quickly as my body allowed me to. I knew if I moved too fast, a dizzy spell would hit, and that wasn’t something I wanted to risk today. I also knew my ribs would hate me twice as much as I already did.
By the time I finished, I was more than ready to crawl into something warm and sleep for hours. If only I could. I knew that once I closed my eyes, I’d see blood. I’d feel the pain. I’d panic.
Worst case, I’d fall asleep and never wake up.
