My knees unintentionally brush his jean-covered shins and it’s a good thing I’m already sitting because my thighs quake and knees weaken at our touch.
“Now you’re just messing with me or kidding yourself. You do put the screws to me.”
“And you dodge them by changing the subject or distracting me like you’re doing right now.” I waggle a finger at him. “You haven’t answered me.”
“Yes, I have. Told you the last time. I come here to be alone.”
“I think there’s more to it.”
He lets out a sharp puff of air. “What do you want from me?”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Why do you need to know? What’s it to you?” His tone is impatient but not challenging, and if I’m not mistaken, I feel it won’t take much for him to give me an answer.
“I just want to understand. To help, if I can.”
Sweat trickles down the nape of my neck onto my back. It’s a small space, quiet and humid. A lot warmer than outside and the air is thick and stagnant. It feels like we’re the only two people in the world.
“You can’t, so don’t waste your time.”
“How do you know?” I tuck a long errant strand behind my ear and wait for him.
He stares blankly beyond me.
“You know what I think?” I’m challenging and he nails me with his mysterious eyes. So dark, almost black in this light, that I’m not able to decipher any meaning.
I steel my sweaty spine, determined to stick to my questions and get answers I so urgently seek. Although I’m clueless as to what I’m supposed to do with them once I have them.
“I think you don’t want to tell me.”
He’s scared but I won’t say that to him. I don’t want to hurt his feelings or tick him off. I really am trying to help, however I can.
He rolls his eyes as if bored with this conversation. Bored with me. “You want to know why I don’t want to tell you?”
Afraid to utter a single word now that he’s on the verge of sharing, I nod.
“Because it isn’t pretty, and you won’t be able to handle it.” He fists his hands in his lap.
“I can.” My boldness doesn’t lessen the mounting nausea in my stomach at his warning.
“Val likes guys.” His voice is flat.
“Pardon?” Bile prickles the back of my throat. He can’t mean what I think he means.
“She. Likes. Boys.” His gaze is intense, searching.
A flash of relief or understanding clouds his vision when I get it, and the realization sickens me. Scares me even. If I’m right…I want to cry. But maybe I’m wrong. I hope I am wrong.
“Boys?”
“Seriously, Eva?” He releases a short, barking laugh that’s neither light nor amusing. “You can’t be this fucking simple.” His tone is almost cruel, definitely cold, and I instantly shiver from the inside out.
Wrapping my arms around my middle, I sink my teeth into my bottom lip to stop a silly sob from escaping. I blink back the sharp sting at the corner of my eyes.
The urge to lash out and leave bubbles up inside of me, but I don’t. How does this guy make me want to hug him and hit him all at once?
Another blink and a single tear streams down my cheek, and I bite the inside of my lip, angry with myself for crying.
Anguish flares in his whiskey eyes. “Fuck, Eva.”
The way he looks away from me, as if disgusted, brings on more tears. Hot and salty and futile. He’s upset with me and I can’t blame him.
Revulsion and incomprehension battle inside of me. Has she done anything to him? Did she hurt him? Why am I crying? He should be the one upset, not me.
“Jared, I’m so sorry—”
His sudden movements stall my words. Pushing the hood off his head, he gets to his knees and brusquely moves past me.
“She’s never touched me.” His growl is absolute, and he flees the confines of the now suffocating shelter.
He needs me to understand he isn’t a victim. But isn’t he?
My need to help kicks into overdrive. Deep down, there’s no denying I’m driven by more than offering my support. I don’t have words for it because I’ve never felt this way before. Every breath I take almost hurts with how my chest squeezes my already anxious heart. It’s an internal force, deep within me—big. Huge, even.
“Wait.” My skin heats and my heart skips a few beats as I clamber after him through the tiny door. “Tell me. Please.”
I can’t let him walk away like this.
I can’t help him if I don’t understand.
He stops midstride, the taut muscles in his back bunching and shifting as he drops his bag to the ground.
His head hangs, and with deep, ragged breaths, his chest expands, defining the broad, hard plane of his back. But save for that, he’s perfectly still.
Drops of sweat bead and trickle down my spine and I shudder, waiting. I can do this. I can wait him out. I can take whatever it is he has to say. I just need to hear it. To help him.
“She fucks with all of us.”
I suck in a breath, my hands clutching at my stomach.
“Not like that,” he’s quick to add, keeping his back to me. “Well, she does that, but not to all of us. She’s controlling. Sex is just one of her weapons. If you do what she wants, you get food, money, clothes, whatever she knows you need. But if you don’t, you get pretty much nothing.”
My steps are slow and tentative. I have to see his face but don’t want to scare him away. I stop advancing when he speaks again.
“One of the guys is her bitch but…she’s been looking my way.”
My breathing quickens and my feet move, not stopping until I’m at his side. My fingers curl into the sleeve of his hoodie.
“Jared, you have to get out of there.”
“And go where?” He won’t look me in the eye. “She’s got her sights on all of us. I’m not the only one.”
I want to know everything. What does she do? But I also don’t want to know. My stomach roils, bile churning and bubbling up my throat, and I want to hurt Mrs. Garcia.
The police, his social worker, my parents—who can help us? I have to do something to make her stop hurting those boys. Hurting Jared.
“Does Mr. Garcia know?”
He scoffs, nodding. “Sure, but the bastard doesn’t let on. Figures it’s him or us.”
“We have to do something. Call the police or your social worker.”
His eyes narrow, regarding me like I’m the devil. “You’ll keep your fucking mouth shut.”
“But she’s getting away with it!” Tears threaten to overrun my vision.
“She isn’t the worst of what’s out there.” Venom blackens his tone. “At least she fucks boys that think about sex all the time. Most of us can’t keep our dicks in our pants.”
“What? What does that mean?”
“From what I hear, she won’t touch you if you’re under thirteen.”
“And that makes it all right?”
“Shhh.” Jared plasters his clammy hand over my mouth, backing me up until my back is against the metal bar of the swings. “You’ll fucking keep your mouth shut. You’ve got no clue what happens in those homes. Val Garcia is a pussycat compared to some of the other shit.”