No, he was still stuck on the last step.
His heart thundered and his brain screamed at him to fucking run.
He remembered these cages. And other cages similar to these.
The wire boxes Julian had been placed inside until it was his turn to stand on that wood platform at the front of the big room full of strangers who wanted to inspect him. Who touched him in the front, lifting and prodding, who made him bend over so they could inspect him in the rear, who opened his mouth, who made him lift his arms to see if he was beginning to grow hair in his pits. Or hair on his balls or hair anywhere but his head. The men who made him speak to see if his voice was changing yet. Because those were signs of him getting older.
Too old.
They’d turn him and check for bruises and scars. For any identifiable markings, like a brand or a tattoo.
When they were done, they’d nod and smile at him, as if they expected him to smile back. Some even asked Julian if he’d like them to be his next “daddy.”
No. The answer was always no.
His answer would make that smile disappear and a hard expression replace it. One Julian had quickly learned to recognize. The unspoken message that said, “I’ll teach you to behave. To be a good boy. I’ll train you right.”
They always thought they’d be the one. The one to tame him. The one to make him pliable. The one to break him.
They never were. None of them succeeded. They all failed.
Every. Single. Fucking. One.
No. Not now.
Shade forced himself to step onto the basement’s concrete floor and move between the two rows of cages. He didn’t look left or right, he focused on the cage at the end.
The one containing the boy with the bruises. The child wearing nothing but stained underwear and filthy tube socks, the formerly white cotton soles now almost black.
The boy whose face was dirty except for two clean streaks down his cheeks. From when he was scared.
Only, he didn’t seem scared now.
His eyes followed Shade’s path and when Shade stopped in front of the boy’s cage, they stared at each other.
“Who are you?” The kid’s voice was raw like he’d spent too much time screaming or crying. Most likely both.
Yeah, he was past the stage of fear. That ship had sailed. He was now angry. Pissed. The look in his dark eyes hard. Maybe even deadly.
Shade didn’t blame him.
“I was you once.”
The boy with the shaggy brown hair frowned up at him unable to hide his confusion. Shade didn’t blame him for that, either.
Shade had to look questionable. He was dressed in all black. His hair was pulled up and covered with a beanie so he wouldn’t shed strands of DNA, his hands were covered in latex gloves so he wouldn’t leave identifiable prints. His boots were a generic brand purchased at a Walmart in Tennessee, the size and tread pattern not unique in any way.
Though Shade took precautions, Miller’s house was full of strangers’ DNA with all the men, women and children coming through it. His would just be one of hundreds identified, if at all.
“What are you going to do with me?”
Yeah, it hurt for the kid to talk. That made Shade’s throat hurt, too, from the memory. “Set you free.”
The boy’s brow furrowed. “You’re going to set me free? Just like that?” He tried to rise but even at twelve he was too tall to stand straight in the cage, so he crouched back down. The cages weren’t tall, so their human occupants had to hunch over or sit. It made it harder to fight when it was your time to be shackled and removed from it.
If you managed to struggle too much, there were electric prods—the same kind used on cattle—that were used to help convince you to comply.
“Just like that,” Shade answered.
He pulled out the key ring he’d found in Miller’s pocket and had tucked into his own. One by one he flipped through the keys and tried them in the padlock. The fifth key opened it.
The boy’s anger was gone and uncertainty was slowly creeping into his face. “Where’s my mom?”
“I don’t know.” It was sort of the truth and better than no answer at all.
“Do you think she’s here somewhere?”
The hope in his voice squeezed Shade’s heart to the point of almost crushing it. “No.”
“Are you here to help me?” More hope, this time guarded. Like he still was very unsure of Shade’s motives.
The kid was smart not to trust anyone at this point.
“That’s not why I’m here, kid, but I’m gonna help you.”
“Why are you here?”
Shade dropped the padlock onto the floor and yanked open the cage door. If the boy jumped him, he’d need to subdue him. Shade hoped to fuck he didn’t try anything; the boy already had enough bruises. An ugly one across his cheekbone, a dark purple handprint circling his left bicep and one encircling each wrist. Maybe Shade should think about tracking down and killing Miller’s goons, too.
No, he needed to get back to Manning Grove. He’d done what he’d set out to do. It was done. Over.
If he was going to track down and deliver karma to anyone else, it would be his father, even though Shade didn’t know his name, didn’t know anything about him. Julian had his mother’s last name and had no idea if she had taken his father’s as her own but doubted she did since they weren’t married.
He hardly even remembered what the man looked like twenty-six years ago. Now, he had to be in his fifties.
No matter what, one day Shade would find him. Then he’d get the truth from the bastard on why he’d thrown his family to the wolves.
Shade already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from the asshole who made his mother a side piece and couldn’t bother to raise him.
His father couldn’t risk losing everything he had and the family he loved. So, he got rid of the family he apparently didn’t want. Julian and his mother had become an inconvenience. A risk to his “real” family once his mother had enough and began to make demands.
But right now, finding his father wasn’t a priority. The boy before him was.
His father was a dead man walking. The boy before him was the future.
So was Chelle. And his club.
The kid’s repeated, “Why are you here?” louder and more demanding this time, snapped Shade’s attention back to him.
“Gonna show you.”
The kid didn’t move from the far corner of the cage. “Why?” That one worded question was full of insecurity.
“So you know the job you’ll think you need to do when you’re older is already done. I did it already so you don’t have to. It’s done.”
It was done.
The boy frowned and Shade realized he had a split lip, too. Fucking assholes. “I don’t understand.”
“You will, kid. Come out of the cage.” Shade stepped back and gave him some space. “Not gonna hurt you.”
The kid still didn’t move.
Right. So they needed to get to know each other a little better first before the boy somewhat trusted him. “Miller said you’re twelve. That true? Asshole’s like him are known to lie about that shit.”
“Yeah.”
“You got a name?”
“Do you?”
Even in this crazy, unknown situation that could make most children break, this kid still had fire. Like it was him against the whole fucking world. It made Shade want to smile, but he was not in a smiling mood. “Yeah, it’s Shade.”