Paolo sighed and turned away.
“Wait.” Luis stood and ventured out of the bus shelter. “I’m not in a gang anymore. So if that’s why you blanked me, it’s not true.”
“I thought you had to die to get out of your gang?”
Luis snorted. “Then you watch too much TV. I’ve been away for six years, and I don’t talk to anyone from Moss Farm no more.”
“What about your brother?”
“What about him? You see him anywhere round here? I’m waiting for the bus, man, to take me back to my shitty bedsit on Crawley road that I ain’t got no Ps to pay for. Think about that before you judge me.”
He stepped around Paolo and strode away. Startled, Paolo called after him. “What about your bus?”
Luis didn’t answer.
* * *
Luiswoke with a jump. For a moment, he lay still, legs tangled in second-hand sheets, and waited for the lights to come on. But nothing happened because he wasn’t in his cell anymore, and if he wanted the lights on, he had to get out of bed and flick the switch his damn self.
Or maybe not, since he’d forgotten to buy tokens for the electric metre. And it wascoldin the bedsit, something he’d rarely felt crammed into the overcrowded prison. He’d rarely been alone, too, and had spent long days and nights craving solitude, but now he had it, the shine had worn off. Trying to fall asleep in utter silence had made his heart race, like it had in the job centre. He’d worked out for hours to take the edge off, but all he’d gained was sore muscles and a dizzy spell that had sent him to his knees, his empty stomach heaving, crying out for the meals he’d missed since the prison gates had opened for him. Toni’s tea had been magic: hot and sweet. Shame it had come at a price.
Shivering, he rolled over and wrapped the duvet the housing charity had provided tighter around himself. The mattress on the divan bed was lumpy and old, but a world away from the padded shelf he’d slept on in prison.You should be grateful.And he was. Didn’t make his current situation any easier to swallow, though. The charity had fronted him a month’s rent. After that, he was on his own, and if the kid from Toni’s reaction to him was anything to go by, getting a job in the neighbourhood was going to be tough.
And the dude fronting Toni’s was hardly a kid. Tall and lean, he was the kind of man Luis had spent his entire adult life fantasising about. Dark hair, dark eyes, and strong, capable hands. Luis had watched him work in the cafe, taking orders, cooking, and cleaning tables like a one-man machine, and it had lit something in him he hadn’t felt in a long time. Attraction. Desire. And crushing disappointment when recognition had dawned in the other man’s eyes and his derision had kicked Luis in the nuts.
Luis closed his eyes, hoping to ward off the reminder, but all he got for his trouble was a flashback of their second encounter at the bus stop, and it was too early—or late—for that shit.
He gave up on sleep and swung his legs out of bed. The carpet felt strange against his bare feet. He dug socks from his bag and took two steps into what constituted his kitchen—a tiny breakfast bar, a fridge, a hob, and solitary cupboard. The washing machine was in the bathroom, keeping the shower cubicle company. It was the most space he’d had all to himself in as long as he could remember, and it somehow managed to be both awesome and horrible at the same time.
The charity had furnished the kitchen with a kettle, a toaster, and enough crockery and cutlery for one miserable person. All he needed was food, but the forty-six pounds he’d tucked in the cupboard last night felt too precious to spend.You need to go back to the job centre and sign on. True facts, but after yesterday, he’d rather starve. Or at least hold out a little longer.
He took a shower without looking over his shoulder. The gas-powered hot water lasted fifteen minutes before it started to give out. Skin flushed from the heat, he dressed in the same jeans, and another thin T-shirt. He’d planned on staying home until businesses started to open, but with nothing for company, save his own thoughts, agitation swept over him. Lack of routine made his skin crawl, the quiet, the freedom.I gotta get out of here.
Luis left the bedsit. Outside it was cold and barely light, but enough people were up and about to make the world seem real.
He paced the pavements, tracking past the park, the petrol station, and towards the cash-and-carry store at the end of the road. The fresh air felt amazing against his bare skin, and he almost didn’t notice the biting cold.
Almost.Man, it’s fucking freezing.
“Still no coat, eh?”
Luis jumped and swung his gaze sideways. For the second time in twenty-four hours, the man from Toni’s had walked up on him, this time from the exit door of the cash-and-carry.Jesus, what are the chances?
Not that it mattered. Despite the dude being glorious to look at, he was the last person on earth Luis wanted to see.
One of them, at least.
Luis turned away and kept walking, figuring the bloke was already bored with whatever conversation he’d been trying to start, but found his path blocked by six foot of scowling Italian. “Fuckin-A, mate. What do youwant?”
“What do I want?” The man raised his hands as if considering putting them on Luis—let him try—then seemed to change his mind. “I thought it was you who wanted a job?”
Luis shrugged, his stance as non-combative as he could bear. He’d learnt to be painfully neutral in prison, pleasant enough to be liked, quiet enough to stay under the radar. With no Moss Farm boys on the wing, it had worked, but out here where his face was known, looking weak was a risk. His hands itched to push the man away, a warning, and the only one he’d get.
He balled them into fists and shoved them in his pockets. “Yeah, well. It wasyouwho told me it didn’t exist, so why are you up in my face again?”
The man glanced over his shoulder. “I spoke to my granddad. He seems to think we need the help enough to put up with whatever trouble you bring to our door.”
“I already told you I don’t run with the Moss Farm boys anymore.”
