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Jesse (Damage Control 2)

Page 53

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“Wait. What happened today, JJ?”

His long lashes flutter against his cheekbones as he looks away, avoiding my gaze. “You don’t wanna know.”

“You promised.” I wait a heartbeat, curling my legs underneath me. “We made a deal.”

“Dammit.” He bends over, runs his hands over his head. “Goddammit.”

Yeah. I knew he wouldn’t give in easily. “Something happened to you in that neighborhood. Please, JJ. I won’t tell anyone else. Cross my heart.”

He huffs, swallows hard. Rubs his inked arm, still not looking at me. “What’s it to you anyway, huh? Can’t you ask me something else?”

I unfold my legs, plant my feet on the carpet, and bend over, mimicking his posture so that our faces are next to each other.

“Tell me.”

He swallows again, his throat clicking, dry, but I’m afraid that if I get up to get him some water, he’ll be gone by the time I’m back. Instead, I reach out and put my arm around him again. He tenses under my touch, then relaxes again in degrees, letting out a long, quiet sigh.

“I used to sleep there,” he says, his voice a mere breath. “Behind that dumpster.”

“When was that?” I’m afraid he’ll tell me this counts as another question or to go screw myself, but he doesn’t. He glances at me, his gaze strangely blank.

“Couple of years ago. I ran away from a boy’s camp. It was hell, and living on the street at first seemed the better option. And it was, in some ways. Until winter hit. The damn shelters were full, and I was broke. So I fell back on my old ways.”

I shiver and pull him closer. Old ways?

“It was a shitty time. I didn’t know anyone here.” His voice catches, releases. “The camp was somewhere in Minnesota. After I escaped, I rode in the back of a truck, and then another and another, until I reached the outskirts of Madison. I knew only one way of getting cash, so I tried it a few times. Except that night I was down on my luck.”

“What do you mean?” His heart is hammering again. I can feel it through his thin T-shirt where my arm is slung around him.

“I got no money that night. I got something else entirely.”

“What then?” I wait, and wait, but he doesn’t say more. I lean my head closer to his. “JJ?”

He shakes himself, as if from another bad dream—or the same one, who knows? “I was waiting at my usual place, but business was slow. Guy shows up, tells me that’s his spot. All bullshit. Well, it didn’t matter. He threw me down and kicked the living shit out of me. Then he broke a bottle he found lying around and beat me with it. Fuck, I tried to fight back but he was…” His breath hitches. “He was built like a shit brickhouse. I couldn’t win.”

“But you survived,” I whisper. “How?”

“Sometimes I’m not sure I did.” He draws a shaky breath. “Think I’ll wake up one morning and be back there.”

I lay my head on his shoulder, trying to get closer to him, hold him closer to me. In my mind’s eye, I see him, younger than he is now, skinny and filthy, lifting an arm to protect his head as a huge guy pounds on him with a broken bottle, leaving behind bloody gashes.

“People say they’d rather starve rather than do what I was doing. Have they ever starved? Do they know what it’s like? What you’d do to keep from dying?”

I want to cry. I want to ask a million questions, and I don’t dare.

Then it doesn’t matter anymore, because he shoves away and gets up. “Gotta go.”

He makes a beeline for the door and lets himself out. The door slams behind him, and I stare into space, trying to wrap my head around what he’s told me. What exactly was he doing on the street to earn money? What ‘old ways’? What is he trying to tell me?

Now I’m the one caught in his nightmare with no way of waking up.

***

“You need a website to sell these,” Ev mutters, lifting a pair of earrings made of copper coil and transparent glass beads with golden thread. “So cool. I bet Tyler could whip up one for you. Want me to ask? He’s got lots of experience.”

Any other time I’d be thrilled to discuss how I could live from my jewelry, but right now my mind is stuck on Jesse. I haven’t seen him or heard from him in the past four days, ever since he walked out of here. “I don’t know—”

“You should definitely ask Tyler for a website. I’ve seen a couple he created and they rock.” Kayla tries on a fuchsia pendant made of silver wire and colored thread. “Oh God, I’d totally buy half your stock in one go.”



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