“Come on, kid! Hand them over,” the man behind me called out.

I ran as fast as I could down the street and ducked into an alley. I prayed this alley had an outlet.

“Shit!”

No outlet. I ran until I reached the back of the alley before I turned to face the two men who had been chasing me. I was out of breath and tried taking deep breaths as they closed in on me. Their shadows emitted bursts of fog as they exhaled. They were also out of breath.

“Why’d you make us chase you?” one of them asked.

“You could have just given them to us like we asked,” the other one said as he revealed a metal pipe.

I backed up against the wall and considered the value of the treasure I had in my pocket that they wanted. The man without the pipe lunged for me, and he took me down to the ground, throwing punches as we went.

“Get off me!” I yelled as I shoved at him.

Suddenly, the pipe struck my legs then my hands were hit as I reached down to rub the sore spot.

“Ow, fuck!”

“Hand it over!”

One held me down while the asshole with the pipe continued hitting my legs and stomach with the pipe. This wasn’t worth it.

“Okay!” I yelled, hoping they’d stop.

“You have five seconds to hand it over or else you won’t be identifiable, kid.”

“No one would know if you were missing,” one of the men said and then spat on me. “Ain’t that right, throwaway?”

I reached into the pocket and pulled out the nearly full pack of cigarettes and held them out toward the men. The one without the pipe snatched them from my hand before he stomped on my stomach.

“These are for adults, you little throwaway. Remember that.”

The man with the pipe spat on me and said, “You’re not going to last long on the streets, little buddy.”

The men each lit up a cigarette as they left the alley. I sat against the wall for a while before I pushed myself off the ground and limped slowly out of the alley. It hurt to breathe, and I couldn’t take a deep breath.

In the rain, I walked through the shadows that lined the streets on the way to my favorite alley. The shadows and I had become inseparable friends…the shadows were my only friends. I didn’t have a family to love or look after me, and I didn’t have any classmates that watched my back or that I could joke around with on the school grounds.

I didn’t have anyone. I was a throwaway.

I’m fourteen and lived on the streets. Day to day life was a struggle, to say the least, and finding a safe place to rest my head or get something to eat was impossible some days. The streets of Amsterdam weren’t welcoming for a fourteen-year-old.

My age was both an advantage and a disadvantage. If I was desperate for food or shelter, I could usually lie and come up with some story about forgetting my key at school and my parents being out of town.

Tonight was a mistake, and I should have known better. I saw the pack of cigarettes on the ground and thought I’d keep them to use for bartering for food. And now I was bleeding, in pain and I couldn’t breathe. Lesson learned.

Usually, I kept my head down and stuck to the shadows. It’s the safest way for me to exist without being seen. If authorities saw me, they would take me back to the Skagen Group Home for Boys.

And I’m never going back there.

Guys like me didn’t do well in places like that. No one did. Their set of rules and expectations were set up for me to fail, and I was beaten nearly every day. I had to get out.

The owners of Skagen Group Home for Boys also owned Skagen Steel. They had us working on the steel shipyard loading containers, which was why Skagen Group Home for Boys was also known as “the docks.” I started to pay close attention to delivery trucks as they came and went on the property, which was how I eventually escaped. Older boys had tried running away before with little luck. If they made it off the property, sometimes it was only days before they returned. And it wasn’t good when they returned.

I’d been smart and stuck to the shadows so no one saw me. So far, it’s working out for me. I’d been on the streets and away from Skagen for close to a year.

When regular schools had sport competitions, I’d hang out by the locker room. While the competition was taking place, I’d slip into the locker room and take a shower. Often, I “borrowed” fresh shirts and headed to the laundromat with the change I found on the streets.

I had learned the routines of restaurants and had used it to my advantage to get food. One of my favorite places to catch food was the back alley of Van Doorn’s Bakery. Each evening between 10:00 p.m. and midnight, the evening staff tossed out old food. And it’s not even really old. It’s stuff made that morning and hadn’t been used or sold.

Near the door to the back of the bakery was a water faucet where I could get a drink from or even clean myself up a little. Essentially, food and water were right there at my disposal. This alley was a gold mine for anyone living on the streets. I just needed to be patient.

I limped to my waiting place under the stairs and welcomed some shelter from the rain. I scooted on the ground under the metal stairs and pulled my hood up over my head to cover me as best as possible. As I sat waiting for the bakery door to open and a member of the evening staff appear with the food to throw out, a loud clap of thunder sounded overhead. Shit. Soon, the alley was lighting up from the lightning every few seconds.

I huddled myself together as best as I could, but my body fiercely ached. Yesterday’s fight over a bottle of soda had left me bruised and tonight’s fight over a pack of cigarettes had shaken me up. Yesterday I lifted the bottle of soda off of some stairs in an alley when a market worker went back inside the store. The same two older guys from tonight had followed me last night and wanted to fight for it. Outnumbered, I lost, of course.

But I had had enough fighting to last me a lifetime. I’ve had so much experience with fighting that it made me physically ill anymore. As a result from yesterday’s struggle, my ribs, stomach, and hands were black and blue on top of the injuries from tonight.

Thunder rumbled on above me, and the rain pummeled the streets. I wondered how long the storm would go on this evening. I’d have to try to find a dry place or some change for the laundromat for my drenched clothes. Right now, I was so cold that I shivered.

My stomach growled and ached. I thought the pain was from a combination of being hungry and hit with a pipe.

Each time a car drove by, it splashed water into the alley. Any minute now, one of the workers will open the door and toss out the food that didn’t sell during the day. He’d sweep the stairs and go back inside. Then I’d grab the food and get to eat.

The grated metal stairs that I sat under were providing less and less shelter from the rain. The rain was coming down in unrelenting sheets, and the cold water dripped off the edges of the stairs.

“Come on,” I mumbled under my breath. “Where’s the guy with the food?”

They always had food to toss out. I was getting tired of waiting in this rain, but my empty, aching stomach forced me to stay put. This was the only option I had for food today.

Over the rain, I heard a car approaching, and then a yellow Audi slowed as it moved past the alley, and its’ brake lights cast a bright red glow on the soaked pavement. I could tell that the car was parked in front of Van Doorn’s Bakery because the brake lights stayed constant.

“Come back tomorrow, they’re closed,” I mumbled.

I turned to look at the back door of the bakery and sighed. Maybe the guy was off work tonight.

A car door shutting made my head jerk in the direction of the street. I frowned and shook my head. That guy must not be very bright. It’s late and way past closing time. After his clothes are soaked, he’d learn they’re closed when the door doesn’t open. Dimwit.

I was squeezing the water out of my sleeve when the back door to the bakery burst open.

Finally!

I stayed still and waited to see the usual heavy-set man appear...only he didn’t. Instead, a man was shoved out of the bakery and fell to the ground into the puddles. Another man came out of the bakery and the guy on the ground held his hands up in the air.

“Dean...calm down. Can we talk about this?” the man on the ground begged.

“Talking? Now you want to talk?” The man referred to as “Dean” paced in front of the other. “Fine time to want to talk. You weren’t interested in talking when your job required it. Now look at the mess we’re in!” Dean shouted.

I held my hand over my aching stomach as it continued to protest. With all of the rain and thunder, I knew they couldn’t hear me. I squinted in the dim lighting of the alley to try to get a better look at the two, though I didn’t have much luck.

“You put our business at risk. You put our family at risk,” Dean continued.

Suddenly, Dean lunged at the man on the ground and grabbed his shirt and shook him.

“You put those boys in danger with the fucking stunt you pulled! What were you thinking that made you pull a gun out during those talks?”

“Dean, I meant no harm,” the man on the ground explained.

“No harm? You meant no harm? You killed our chance of gaining that client while you were strutting your stuff and showing your power off,” Dean snapped as he reached into his jacket.

Dean pulled out a gun and aimed it at the man on the ground. Oh, shit! I bit down on my lip and tried to stay perfectly still.

“Dean! I didn’t mean it!”

“You could have killed one of those boys! On top of which, you’ve tarnished the image of this family. You put the business and family at risk one too many times. You’ve become addicted to this shit! You’re a disgrace and can’t be trusted,” Dean barked.

Just then another man appeared in the doorway of the bakery as the gun went off.

“Dean!” the man in the doorway yelled.

I jumped up, making splashing noises with my feet. Both of the men turned and looked in my direction as a gun was aimed at the stairs. Dean had the gun in his hands.

God, please no! I’ll go back to the docks! Just get me out of this alley!

“Who’s there?” Dean called out over the pouring rain. “Thom, there’s someone over there,” Dean said urgently.

Move! They’re going to shoot you!

Dean and Thom walked closer to me and though I was scared shitless, I made my move and stepped out from under the stairs. With my arms and hands outward, away from my body they would be able to see that I posed no threat.

When Thom and Dean reached me, they both frowned when one of them pushed the soaked hood off my head.

“Holster that gun, Dean,” the other man hissed.

“He’s just a boy,” Dean said in relief as he put his gun back in his jacket.

Thom spent a lot of time looking me over. The longer they stood there, the more I worried about surviving the night.

“What’s your name?” Thom asked me.

My throat was so dry and I swallowed hard before speaking.

“Wes-ley,” I stuttered.

“What’s your last name, Wesley,” Dean questioned.

“Berlin.”

Thom and Dean looked at one another and spoke quietly about my last name. How could they be so calm right now?

“What does your family do?” Thom inquired. “I wondered if possibly we know them.”

I shook my head and looked down.

“I don’t have a family.”

“You’re not working for someone? Did someone send you here tonight?” Dean asked and then turned and gestured at the dead man on the ground. “Did he send you?”

Thom tried calming Dean when his voice got louder. I shook my head quickly before Dean lunged at me, backing me against the brick wall of the building.

“Did he send you to lurk in the shadows?” Dean yelled in my face.

“Dean, take it easy and let go of him.” Thom stepped closer and put his hand on my shoulder. “What are you doing here in the alley tonight, Wesley Berlin? It’s pouring rain.”

“Food...Food, sir,” I panted.

I found it difficult to get a deep breath after the fight earlier tonight and with my nerves shaken. I tried to continue to plead my case because I felt like my life was on the line.

“The night shift guy...I wait for him to bring the trash out...then I find food...and can eat.”

Shit, would they think of me as a thief?

“I’m not...s-stealing...it’s just b-being thrown out,” I urged.

“Calm down, Wesley Berlin,” Thom said and gave my shoulder a few pats. “Let’s go inside out of the rain and get you some food.”

Panic set in and I tried standing still and firmly in my spot. I’d probably end up dead if I went inside with them. Thom tightened his grip on my shoulder and shook me a little.

“Wesley,” Thom said my name, pulling my focus away from the dead body lying a few feet away. “Wesley, look at me. Come inside.”

I nodded and slowly put one foot in front of the other. I gazed down at the body that seeped blood, as we walked by it. Dean skipped every other step and flung the back door to the bakery open.

“Come on, Shadow. It’s warm inside,” Dean said as I crossed the threshold of the Van Doorn’s Bakery.

Shadow?

Thom guided me to a table and pulled out the chair for me. As I sat down, he sat in the seat next to me and told me to relax again. I sat still, unsure of what to do or say. Dean went behind the bakery counter and rummaged around.

“Wesley, how old are you?” Thom asked me.

“Fourteen.”

“How long have you been on your own?”

“About a year.”

“Where did you live before that?”

My mind flashed back to the Skagen Group Home for Boys where I lived. It wasn’t a home. It was a shelter at best. They had us working on the docks, and if we didn’t do our share, there was hell to pay...and I paid for it often. I wasn’t going back.

“A group home for boys,” I muttered and then looked Thom straight in the eye. “I’m never going back there.”

Thom narrowed his eyes at me but nodded.

“Take your jacket off, Wesley. It’s soaked, son.”

Son?

Son.

I froze with my gaze fixed on Thom. I wasn’t his “son.” I was nothing to him. That word meant something, yet nothing to me. I was no one’s “son.”

I reminded myself that I was in the company of two men; one of them just killed another man within the last hour. I would be wise to calm down. Soon, Dean appeared with a bowl of soup and a French baguette and set it in front of me.

“Eat, Shadow,” Dean insisted and went back behind the counter.

He returned with a glass of water. I started to pick the bowl up but remembered that I was seated at a table and not crouched behind a dumpster. Thom and Dean moved to another table close by while I ate. As I shoveled spoonfuls of soup into my mouth, their murmurs and whispers were faintly audible. I tried to make out pieces of what they said.

“You have lost your mind, Dean…I don’t even know where to begin.”

“It needed to be done.”

“I make those decisions, and the last time I checked, that was not how I decided to handle this.”

“He was getting pushy for power and control. You favored him too much. He knew it and was going to be a problem. He didn’t understand ranks or where he sat in line. I did what was best for the family.”

“Did you, Dean? Because right now, I’m not so sure.”

“Well, while you debate that with yourself, we need to handle what’s in the alley and the little Shadow.”

“We need to get rid of the car.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Dean replied.

When the food was gone, I sat awkwardly at the table. I glanced around the bakery and noticed it’s size. I suppose I hadn’t really known what to expect all this time I had been hanging out in the alley.

“While I heated the soup, I sent Armin a text and let him know what happened,” Dean whispered. “They’re on their way to remove him, Thom.”

Remove him?

Me?

Was I about to be removed?

Was this my last meal?

My body reacted, and I clumsily stood abruptly. I had to get out of here. Thom and Dean looked at me. Suddenly, the food that I had been so eager to eat now felt like a brick in my stomach.

“Sit down, Wesley,” Thom instructed and began whispering to Dean again.

I sat back down and began to sweat. I was going to die, I knew it. Nausea pushed my food up, and I was barely able to collect it in the napkin. That’s all it took for Thom and Dean to approach the table. I had pushed my chair away from the table and held the napkin over my mouth as Thom moved a chair closer to me while Dean retreated behind the counter. Thom reached out and put his hand on my back and rubbed on it though I tried shaking free of his touch.

“Relax, Wesley. No one is going to hurt you,” Thom reassured.

How could I trust that?

Dean returned and handed Thom a wet cloth and took my gross napkin away from me. I tried scooting my chair away when Thom moved closer to me. Thom opened the fabric to show me that nothing was hiding and that it was just a cloth.

“Wipe your face off, Wesley. No one will hurt you,” Thom repeated and handed me the cloth.

“Take it easy, Shadow,” Dean said calmly. “I think you probably ate too fast.”

And saw someone killed.

“When was the last time you had eaten?” Dean asked before pushing a glass of water towards me.

“Um,” I couldn’t think. “Last night.”

“Looks like you’ve been in a fight, Wesley,” Thom quietly added.

I nodded rapidly and held the wet cloth on my face. It felt so good, and I ended up holding the cloth over my eyes for a few moments.

“When did you have the fight?” Dean asked.

“Um, yesterday and tonight,” I answered.

“What over?” Dean asked again.

I shrugged. I didn’t want them to think I was a troublemaker.

“Stupid stuff; soda yesterday and a pack of cigarettes tonight.” I adjusted the wet cloth and held my palms against my eyes over the cloth.

“Are you hurt?” Thom inquired.

“No. I’m fine.”

“Do you know who we are, Wesley?” Thom asked as I pulled the cloth away from my face.

I looked from Thom to Dean, and then back at Thom. I nodded my head and leaned back in my chair.

“You do?” Dean asked.

“Well, kind of,” I admitted. “I heard the names ‘Thom’ and ‘Dean.’” I turned my head and looked toward the front door of the bakery. “Your names and a few others are on the placket outside the bakery. You guys own the bakery.”

Thom and Dean glanced at one another and both of them smiled and nodded.

“I like you, Shadow,” Dean laughed.

Dean reached across the table and offered his hand. As I carefully shook it, he said, “Dean Van Doorn. It’s a pleasure to meet you Wesley Berlin.”

“I’m Thomas Van Doorn, but you can call me Thom.”

I guzzled my water and then Thom began talking again.

“Would you like to come home with me, Wesley?” Thom asked. I just stared at him not knowing what to do or say. “I have a home on the edge of the city, and I have three boys. All of them are just a little older than you, but all still live at home with me.”

Was he serious?

“We’re a close family, Wesley,” Thom added.

“The streets aren’t any place for a fourteen-year-old, Shadow. You don’t want a life on the streets, trust me.”

Could I trust him? He just killed some guy in the alley.

“I don’t want to go back to the group home for boys. If you’re going to take me there, I’d rather try my chance on the street.”

I wasn’t going back to the docks. Ever.

Dean and Thom looked at one another, then back to me.

“We’re not taking you there, Wesley. I’m inviting you to come live with me and my boys. You’d be part of our family.”

Family.

Ever since I was little, I had longed for a family. I learned from some of the boys on the docks what it was like to be part of a family from their stories. A sense of belonging to a small group of people that would always have your back was very desirable to me. I was interested in what was being offered.

“I want to be part of a family. So, yes. I’d like to come with you.”

Thom and Dean smiled as they stood. Dean studied his cell phone and said Armin had arrived.

“Go take care of that. I’m going to head home with Wesley.” Thom looked at his watch. “I doubt Dr. Simon is up at this hour.”

Dean nodded and looked at me before saying, “He needs to be looked over. Keep an eye on him, Thom.”

I was fine.

“It’ll have to wait until morning. Are you going to stop by the house tonight after you’re done with Armin?” Thom looked at Dean until he nodded, then he returned his gaze to me. “Ready, Wesley?”

I stood and followed Thom to his car, dodging as much rain as possible. While I held my hands over the vents on the dash, Thom started the inquisition.

“How long had you lived in the group home?”

“All of my life.”

“Did you know your biological parents?”

I was a throwaway.

“No, sir. They said I didn’t have any. I always lived in a group home.”

“No shame in that, Wesley. That’s not your fault.”

It wasn’t? I had always been reminded, just as the other boys had, that we were there because no one wanted us…which was our fault.

“Each of my boys work at the bakery. After we get you healthy again, you’ll be included in the work rotation. Will that be a problem for you?”

“No, sir. I don’t have a problem with work.”

God knows the labor-intensive work I handled at the docks outside and in the cold. I could handle the temperature-controlled bakery. I was curious about his boys.

“Are your boys all…”

Shit, how do I ask this without sounding too nosey?

“Are they all what, Wesley?”

“Are they all yours?” Thom frowned and looked over at me, his expression showed that he was confused by my question. “Are you their biological father?” I blurted.

“Yes, Wesley. Their mother died from complications after my youngest, Martin, was born.”

We drove through Amsterdam until the buildings became fewer and the blanket of darkness became more apparent. This was really the edge of town.

“Where was your group home at?”

Why did he want to know? Was he going to contact them?

“I’m just curious, Wesley.”

“By the docks.” I cringed when I said docks. “They had us work there and…” I started to feel sick as I thought back to their practices and ways of punishing us if we didn’t work hard or do as told. And their sick fight ring.

I focused on the sparse lights outside. Did he think I was weird?

“We’re almost there, Wesley. I’ll introduce you to the boys, and then you can take a shower. If you’re still hungry, I’ll get you something to eat. Tomorrow, I’m taking you to be looked at by a physician friend of mine. After you’re settled and recovered, I will also arrange for your schooling.”

“I’m okay. I probably don’t need to see a doctor. I wouldn’t want you to waste money.”

“Money isn’t an issue, Wesley. I want to ensure you’re healthy and if you have any injuries that you’re cared for.”

Oh God.

We pulled up to a huge home that was lit up with lights. The rain was a lot lighter out here and it didn’t bother me as we got out of the car. Nervously, I followed Thom up the steps to his wide porch and swallowed hard as he opened the door. I slowly stepped inside and stood still by the closed door.

“Come in, Wesley.”

I looked down at my sneakers with holes and my soaked pants. I shouldn’t traipse through their home like this. I was so embarrassed at how I looked. Thom put this hand on my upper arm and encouraged me to follow him inside toward the sound of a television.

“Boys, I need your attention for a few minutes. Shut off the video game. Where’s Mason?” The two boys that sat on the couch shut the game off and looked over at me. “Mason!” Thom called in the direction of the stairs.

Soon, another guy appeared, and then he sat on another couch. Thom motioned for me to step forward and I did as I was told.

“Boys, this is Wesley.” The three boys either waved, nodded their heads or said, “hello,” to me. I managed to nod and smile back.

I met the lot of them. Mason was twenty-one, Kyler was nineteen, and Martin was seventeen. They were all muscular guys with builds much bigger than mine. Even the youngest, Martin, had a bigger build than I did. They all had slightly different shades of brown hair and blue eyes. Just like me.

“Wesley has fallen on hard times and he’s going to stay with us. He’ll help out at the bakery once I feel that he is ready.”

The boys all looked at one another and smiled. Martin got off the couch and came over to shake my hand.

“Welcome, mate. I’ll show you where the bathroom is. Did you bring any clothes?” Martin asked.

“Um…”

“Boys, Wesley doesn’t have anything. We need to get him taken care of.”

Kyler and Mason both stood and came over. They each shook my hand, and Mason said he’d prep the extra bed in Martin’s room.

“I’ll find you some dry clothes,” Kyler said and left with Mason.

Martin nudged me to follow him, and I glanced at Thom. He nodded at me and said he needed to make a few phone calls but for me to come find him when I was done. I hoped the phone calls wouldn’t be about me. My stomach dropped though as I remembered the dead guy in the alley.

“So, this is the bathroom closest to my room, or our room. I’m the only one with an extra bed in it, so you’re stuck with me, mate.”

I used to share a room with six to ten other boys and slept on the floor. I doubted that sharing a room with Martin and the extra bed would be unbearable.

“Kyler and Mason each have their own bathrooms. Mason’s room is actually the basement. Kind of like an apartment for him, I guess. He wants freedom.” Martin rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t think we know when he’s got a girl down there. He’s such a dork. Anyhow, it’s a bathroom and pretty self-explanatory. Help yourself to whatever. How about you use the navy towels and I’ll use the bright blue ones?”

“Yes, that will be fine. I’ll remember just the navy ones.”

Kyler came in with his arms full of clothes and set them on the counter.

“Those aren’t going to fit him, mate,” Martin pulled out some clothes and put them back in Kyler’s hands.

“I just brought a bunch to see what worked for him. I’ll take these other ones back.”

I thanked Kyler for the clothes as he left the bathroom. Martin rummaged around under the bathroom cabinet for a few moments and emerged with a toothbrush that was wrapped in plastic.

“I knew I kept it. Here,” he held the toothbrush out toward me. “I had my dentist visit last week and they gave me this. You can have it.”

I nodded and held the plastic wrapped toothbrush as if it were gold. After being on the streets and having thrown up tonight, this was gold. I actually had one for a while and kept it in a plastic bag in my pant pockets, but toothpaste was hard to come by. That would had been something that I could have used the cigarettes to barter for.

The shower was so relaxing, and it gave me a chance to assess the damage from the few fights. I didn’t look too bad until I saw the bruising from where the pipe hit me. Knowing that I had to see a physician tomorrow, I began to worry. I put on the clothes that Kyler had given me and was surprised that they weren’t super huge on me.

I found Thom after I was showered and my teeth were brushed. He was in what I assumed was a home office or den.

“Sit down, Wesley.”

I took a seat across from his desk as he looked at a calendar.

“I will take you to see the physician tomorrow morning. How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Any bruising from your fights?”

I didn’t want to admit that I was bruised and banged up. I wasn’t a wimp. I looked down at my knees that were bouncing nervously. Wimps didn’t walk away from the docks.

“Wesley, there’s nothing to be ashamed over.”

“I can fight and defend myself,” I announced.

Thom leaned back in his chair and looked at me. I felt like I needed to say more.

“There were two of them. I didn’t know they had a pipe.”

That apparently was the wrong thing to say because Thom stood and walked around the desk until he was right in front of me.

“They hit you with a pipe?”

My face was burning and I wanted out from under his stare.

“Where were you hit with the pipe, Wesley?” I kept looking at him. I felt so much shame for not being able to defend myself to two street thugs after having grown up on the docks. “Answer me, Wesley.”

“My legs and stomach.”

“That’s why you’re limping tonight. Come on, get up.”

Thom motioned for me to get out of the chair. I followed him to the kitchen and sat down when he instructed me to. From the freezer, he pulled ice trays and prepped a handful of ice packs for me.

“Let’s get you situated in bed, and you can keep the ice on for a while.”

I followed Thom to what I gathered would be where I would sleep, which was in Martin’s room. Martin was sitting on his bed reading when we came in. He sat up and asked if he could lend a hand.

“Martin, keep your eye on the clock and in fifteen minutes, make sure he takes the ice packs off.”

I got on the bed and got lost in how good a bed felt. Even when I had shelter with the group home, I didn’t have a bed. This felt incredible. My entire body was relishing in the comfort of the mattress. The pillow…my god, the pillow supported my neck and was so soft.

“I’m going to lift your shirt and find out where the ice needs to be applied,” Thom warned.

I glanced at Martin to see if he would be able to see. From where he was sitting, I didn’t think he’d be able to see my bruises. Thom made a hissing noise when he saw my stomach.

“Oh, Wesley.”

I looked down at my stomach and felt my face burn again. I knew it would only be a matter of time before he saw the tattoo on my chest and the scars on my back.

“It looks a lot worse than it really is,” I said and hoped he believed me.

He lowered the shirt and gently placed the ice pack on top of the material. The cold sensation shocked me at first.

“Fifteen minutes, Martin. Then lights out, he needs to sleep.”

After Thom left, I glanced at Martin. He sat on the edge of his bed and looked at me.

“You okay, mate?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course. I was outnumbered,” I quickly added, hoping he believed me.

“So, you really have nothing?”

I shook my head, confirming that I didn’t have anything.

“Sorry, mate.”

I shrugged. Martin talked with me for a few minutes but kept glancing at the clock while we conversed. Finally, he stood and came over.

“Fifteen minutes are up. I’ll take the ice packs downstairs,” Martin said as he lifted them from my sore legs and stomach.

“Thank you,” I said.

When Martin turned the lights off, I stared at the ceiling and could hear Thom and Dean out in the hallway talking about me.

“He doing okay?”

“He’s settled for the night. He’s been beaten and needs to see a physician.”

“That’s a pity. Did you get anything out of him?” Dean asked.

“Not much. He ran away from a group home for boys by the docks.”

“The docks? Hell, when did group homes start operating around shipyards?”

I shut my eyes tightly and cringed when he said “the docks.” I wasn’t going back. Their voices became difficult to hear, and I realized they had moved away from the hallway. I would talk to Thom tomorrow because if he were planning on taking me back there, I just would prefer the streets.