Chapter Twenty
W hen Fisher woke up in Kit’s spare bedroom, Boston’s warm body lay next to him.
He glanced over. The boy had curled closer as if seeking protection and it sent something painful into his chest. The boy reminded him so much of Mouse.
Fisher had a soft spot for these lost and abused children.
The teenager’s lids lifted and dark eyes held his.
“Did Solomon train you or were you always with Tanis?”
Boston answered after a moment of hesitation. “Tanis and then Solomon. When Solomon died, I was taken back by Tanis.”
Fisher swallowed through his suddenly tight throat.
“How old are you?”
“Sixteen.”
Those fuckers.
Solomon had Boston out there killing people and Tanis had done unspeakable…
Fisher clenched his teeth fighting off the memories. “How long were you with Tanis?”
Boston’s eyes went wide and he rolled off the bed before Fisher could blink and raced to the door.
“You don’t have to run anymore.”
Reaching for the knob, the teenager stopped, chest heaving, breath rasping.
“I’m not here to take you back to Tanis. And I sure the fuck will put a bullet in his head when I find him.”
Boston slowly turned around and Fisher sat up on the side of the bed. He checked his weapon before sliding it back into his custom-made back holster.
“What about Blue? Will you kill him too?”
The wobble in Boston’s voice was telling when he spoke of the other sexual predator. Blue was as good as dead.
“Yes.” When Boston ducked his head, Fisher stood from the bed. “You want to get out of here? You want to get and stay clean?”
“I don’t use drugs.” Boston’s hands fisted.
“You’re braver than I am, kid.” He rubbed his hands quickly down his face and shook off the cobwebs.
“Drugs don’t make anything better.”
Fisher smirked. “Wise words.”
It was dark by the time Fisher drove down a cracked and cratered street and parked his loaner car against the curb.
“We’re here,” he told Boston softly and got out.
Leaving his vehicle, he pulled up the hood of his black sweatshirt and Boston did the same before they made their way over the rocky sidewalk. Roots had pushed up between the seams and the city hadn’t bothered to fix them.
That wasn’t the only thing the city didn’t care about in this neighborhood—most of the yards were overgrown and several had junk cars and torn-apart motorcycle parts stacked up against paint-peeled garage doors.
With Boston at his side, Fisher turned down the next block over and walked down the alley where backyards sat behind brick walls and chain-link fences.
Reaching a concrete wall, he took a running jump and pulled himself up to the top. Glancing down at Boston, he waited.
The youth leaped upward.
Boston was agile and quick and balanced at the top of the wall with zero effort.
From there, Fisher jumped down into the backyard and Boston followed.
Landing lightly in the tall grass, he made his way through the overgrowth and onto the back porch.
“They might be a bit scared at first,” Fisher warned and lifted his hand, but before he could knock, the door was thrown open and fifty-five pounds of giggling boy crashed into him.
“I knew you would make it! Where’s Rogue?”
Mikey gazed up at him through bright blue eyes, and curly dark hair fell over his forehead.
Fisher couldn’t help but reach down and hug the little munchkin before gesturing to Boston.
“He’s busy. This is Boston, he’s a friend.”
“Hi!” Mikey said.
“Where’s Ryan?” Fisher said.
“Eating! Come on.” Mikey tugged at his hand, pulling him through the backdoor. “We found a can of spaghetti!”
Fisher entered the room and Boston came inside but hovered by the door.
Ryan sat at the small rickety table in the equally small kitchen and smiled when he stepped inside. The man was thin, his face all angles, and he sported a scraggly-looking beard on his youthful face.
Noise from the living room swept into the tiny kitchen from the television. Canned spaghetti filled the air.
Ryan’s smile died when he spotted Boston.
“You shouldn’t let Mikey run outside like that,” Fisher told Ryan, taking a seat at the table. The chair beneath him wobbled.
When Fisher pointed to another chair for Boston, the young man stayed where he was, leaning against the closed back door.
Mikey climbed up onto a stool that sat between the table and the wall and picked up his spoon. At nine years old, the boy was small for his age, but super fucking smart.
“He has a mind of his own,” Ryan complained. “I didn’t sign up to be a babysitter.”
“It’s just until I can figure something else out,” Fisher said and ruffled Mikey’s dark curly hair before he pulled out an envelope and slid it across the table to Ryan.
“Who’s he?” Ryan stared at Boston.
Boston tipped his head and the fall of dark hair swept forward, shielding his face from the prying look.
“Boston, he’s the same,” Fisher said.
“From?” Ryan said, and Fisher knew what the young man was asking.
“Tanis.”
“What? I th…th…thought he was dead.” Ryan blanched, his knuckles turning white when he gripped his fork.
“He’s not.”
Ryan looked Boston over from head to toe. He and Ryan both knew the hell that Tanis could inflict.
“How long do you think we can stay hidden from him?” Ryan mumbled, turning his attention from Boston to him.
“As long as it takes. I’m going to kill Tanis and Blue.”
“I thought Blue left town after Tanis died.”
“Tanis never died, they just slunk into their rat holes and waited. They’ve probably been feeding Solomon’s boys without us knowing. I need to talk to Rogue,” Fisher said, holding Ryan’s troubled gaze.
“Crow found me at the rec center a few days ago,” Ryan said, twirling his fork in the noodles.
Fisher frowned. “That’s not good. I heard that Crow is just as bad as Blue. Tell me you didn’t lead him back to this place?”
“I didn’t.” Ryan sounded defensive.
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I was careful!” Ryan snapped with a frustrated-sounding sigh.
“Okay, but if Tanis finds this place, then it’s—.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Mikey interrupted.
“Nothing, buddy,” Fisher said. The last thing he needed was to freak Mikey out. He pointed to the boy’s uneaten bowl of food. “You going to eat that or am I?” he teased, trying to take the bowl but Mikey was all over it.
Mikey laughed and they tussled for a few moments over the few bites left in the bowl before Fisher relented.
“Did Crow say anything else?”
“Just that he was looking for Mouse. I told him to check Kit’s place.”
“You shouldn’t mention Kit.”
“Crow already knew about Kit,” Ryan pointed out.
“I talked to Kit last night. He didn’t mention anything about Crow’s visit,” Fisher said.
“Maybe he lied or forgot.”
Fisher clenched his jaw. Fucking Kit. The guy hadn’t said a word about Crow showing up at his place.
Had Kit fucking turned? There was no telling with a drug addict, they’d sell their kidney to get enough money for a fix.
“Boston?”
“Hmm?” The youth straightened up.
“Did you see Crow at the house?”
“Yes,” Boston whispered.
“Okay.” Fisher stood up from his chair.
Thanks for the money,” Ryan said, tucking the envelope into the pocket of his jeans.
“I’ll move you guys soon. Just keep a low profile for now.”
“Okay. What about the others?”
“I’m trying to do this all at once.” Fisher rubbed at his mouth.
After he gathered everybody up, he would find his nerve and reach out to talk with—
“Oh! I have something for you!” Mikey’s voice snagged his attention. The boy’s eyes lit up and he jumped from the stool to grab at Fisher’s hand.
Dutifully, Fisher stood and let Mikey pull him out of the kitchen and down the small hallway. Boston followed as if afraid to let him out of his sight.
Entering the only bedroom, Fisher was presented with a colorful stick figure drawing.
“Who’s that?” Fisher pointed to the shorter figure in the middle.
“That’s me.” Mikey smiled up at him and then pointed to the other two figures. “And that’s you and that’s Ryan.”
“And that?” He pointed to the building behind them that didn’t look exactly like a house because it was bigger with a huge door.
“Oh! That’s the store where we can eat for free!”
His eyes prickled and he laughed to cover it up and handed the paper back to Mikey.
The boy put his hands behind his back and shook his head. “It’s for you. I made it for you.”
Fisher carefully folded the paper and tucked it into the inner pocket of his lightweight jacket.
“I’ll keep it safe.”
“Do you want one?” Mikey’s eyes were hopeful looking at Boston.
And for the first time, Boston smiled. It was slight, but it was there.
“Next time,” Boston promised.
Mikey threw his arms around Fisher’s waist and hugged him tight.
Fisher returned the hug.
A slight noise drew Fisher’s gaze toward the door, and he found Ryan leaning against the doorjamb with a slight smile.
When Fisher came closer, Ryan yanked him into a quick hug.
“Thank you,” the young man whispered.
“Of course.”
He patted Ryan’s back. Their circumstances were dire and Fisher knew he needed to make more money and fast. When he did go back to work, he’d have to double up on the jobs for a few weeks. That way, he could, at the very least, take these three out of here. Plus, have a safe place for Beck.
Why this fell on his shoulders he wasn’t sure, but if he didn’t do it then who the hell would?
Striding through the small house, he stepped out onto the back porch.
Boston who was right on his ass, bumped into him.
“No,” he said gently, turning around. “You need to stay here.”
“I’m not staying here.”
Fisher placed both hands on Boston’s shoulders and gazed into the teenager’s eyes.
“You need to stay safe until I can figure something out. This is the best place. I promise.”
“I won’t stay here.” Boston’s voice turned hoarse.
Damn it.
If Boson took off, then he’d be tasked with finding the boy again. He couldn’t have that.
“Okay, but you stay right on my ass,” Fisher growled low so only the two of them could hear.
A few minutes later, he and Boston leaped to the top of the concrete wall. Fisher gazed back at the small house.
Mikey smiled and waved emphatically at them from the porch.
With a lifted hand and a smile that Mikey couldn’t see, Fisher dipped over the other side and disappeared with Boston down the alley.
Next on his list was to find Beck, but the bitch of that was he had no clue of the teenager’s location. And that was going to take time.
And time was something he may not have a lot of.
Now though, he had to find somewhere to stash Boston.
No way could he let a sixteen-year-old come with him when he ended Tanis and Blue.