Chapter Nine

"Hey, it's Drew. How's your head?"

Silly for him to be nervous calling, but Drew wanted to check on Ash to make sure the cut near his eye hadn't started seeping.

"What? Oh yeah. It's fine. I'd almost forgotten about it to be honest."

"Must've been the great medical care you received."

Ash chuckled, a low, comforting sound in Drew's ear. "Of course. What else could it be?"

Drew stretched out on his sofa, a cooking show playing on the television as background noise. Domino lay curled up at his feet. Just another thrilling night at Chez Klein.

"Well if you're satisfied with our service, please tip your doctor. Seriously, though, I'm glad it's okay." He was about to say goodbye, when Ash interrupted.

"Stevie North never showed up today. I waited until six tonight hoping but…"

Alarmed, Drew sat up. "Do you think something happened to him? Should we call someone?" He feared for that boy and knew Ash had taken a personal interest in his welfare.

"Javier went to look for him; he thought he knew where to look. I think he feels protective of Stevie. Not too long ago, Javier was in the same position as Stevie, but Javier could take care of himself. Stevie is more at risk."

Recklessly, Drew asked, "Is that how you feel? Protective of Stevie? Does he remind you of someone from your past?" He held his breath, expecting Ash to curse him out and hang up.

"My past is something best forgotten. I try not to think about it."

With the phone tucked under his ear, Drew lay back down on the sofa. "I know the feeling. I try not to think too hard about my parents because it makes me sad. But then I remember good times we had. Like my father taking me to the Rockaways to fish off the piers…" His eyes burned. "If I stop remembering I'll forget they ever existed. I can't let myself do that."

"We used to go fishing in the pond down the road from us," Ash blurted out.

The elusive Southern drawl that came and went like the ebb and flow of the ocean intrigued Drew. "You lived in the country?"

"Yeah. A real small town with even smaller minds. The only times we had to call our own was during the summer when we could spend the whole day fishing and swimming and picking berries. I'd catch the fish and we'd clean it then cook it along with the corn on the cob we'd swipe from the McAllisters' farm. Damn. I haven't thought about that in years."

To Drew it sounded idyllic.

"We'd grill our fish, too." Drew remembered his mother protesting having to clean and gut the fish but she didn't mean it. It was all done in their good-natured teasing way. "My dad would put on a big white chef's hat and stand over the barbecue pretending to swat at us if we tried to open it up to see it cooking."

"I never knew my father, or my mother for that matter. When I was little, I hoped they'd show up and say it was all a mistake and bring me home to stay with them. When I finally realized that wouldn't be happening, I'd grown old enough not to care."

Talking to Ash tonight gave Drew insight into his life before he came to New York and without asking, Drew knew Ash had never told anyone else these stories before. The trust Ash gave him in speaking from the heart was a gift Drew would hold close and cherish.

"It doesn't sound like you had much fun growing up." Drew chose his words with caution.

"Fun wasn't a word heard often in my house." The cold hard tone of Ash's voice sent a shiver through Drew.

"It's why you relate so well to Stevie isn't it? You see a little bit of yourself in him. Am I right?"

He held in a breath, shocked at himself for daring to ask Ash such a personal question. Not surprisingly, he and Ash had grown closer working at the clinic over the past few weeks, but Drew knew little more about Ash than when they'd first met.

"This isn't about me. It's about these kids. And there's something I need to talk to you about that I found out tonight when I stayed late waiting for Stevie to show up."

Not surprised at how deftly Ash shifted the discussion away from his personal life, Drew found himself curious as to what Ash had to say. "What is it?"

"Did you know Marly has to walk home by herself every night? She says she doesn't mind, but if Javier isn't there to walk with her, she does it alone. That's unacceptable, Drew."

Appalled, Drew jumped off the sofa to pace the living room. "I had no idea; you're right, that's awful. Of course she shouldn't walk home by herself. I'll go with her."

"That's not the best solution either. Both of you will be easy targets. I think you should send her home in a car and have the clinic pick up the tab."

Drew considered Ash's suggestion and decided it had merit. "That's a wonderful idea. I don't know why we didn't think of it. He stopped and leaned against the wall. "Thanks, we'll put it in place immediately."

"Good. I'll be in tomorrow to see if Stevie shows up. Night, Drew."

Ash hung up, leaving Drew staring at the dead phone, once again, no closer to understanding him than before. Who was Ash Davis and why did Drew need to know?

~ ~

Five o'clock arrived and Ash once again sat in his office at the clinic waiting for Stevie North to arrive. All day he played the game of "Will he or won't he?" and he decided if Stevie failed to show again today, he'd go to his house and make sure everything was all right. He heard a hesitant tap on the door. "Come on in." The door opened, framing Stevie's slender body. At fifteen he had yet to acquire any height, bulk, or facial hair. He looked as smooth as a twelve-year-old.

"Hey, kiddo, come on in." He smiled at the young boy, noting with a fury he'd learned to keep well hidden, the boy's swollen lips and the bruises that peeked out on his neck from underneath his longish brown hair. "You had a rough time of it?"

Stevie's face reddened as he stared at the floor and nodded. "I tried, Mr. Davis. I tried to tell them no, and that I would call the police, but they laughed at me. Said all faggots wanted it, even when we said no."

"Stevie, this can't go on. Those boys have to be stopped, or they're going to hurt you worse each time." Ash came from around the desk to sit in the chair next to Stevie.

"I can't tell no one. Don't you understand?" Stevie raised his big brown eyes to Ash, whose heart was breaking. "They'll hurt me even more. Jimmy's gonna go off to the army soon, so that'll leave only Donny. He's gentle and doesn't hurt me." Stevie's voice had dropped to a whisper. "He tells Jimmy to stop when he gets too crazy."

Ash put his hand on Stevie's shoulder. "Do you like Donny?"

After a moment, Stevie gave a little shrug. "He's okay."

"Hey, kiddo, don't worry. Maybe I can talk to him—"

"No. You can't. I can't have anyone know I was here. If they ever found out…" Stevie shuddered. "I think Jimmy might kill me."

"And your parents?" Ash's lips curled at those words. How oblivious were these fucking people? "Don't your foster parents have anything to say? Don't they care?"

Stevie nodded his head. "No, you don't get it. They're really nice to me, and Mrs. Harding especially helps me with my homework and everything, but I can't tell her what goes on, 'cause Jimmy will beat me up." He tucked his hair behind his ears. "I don't want to get sent away. I've been there since I was a kid." He sniffled. "She's the only mom I've ever known."

Big, sad brown eyes locked with his. "I'm so scared, Mr. Davis. Why is this happening to me? Why can't they leave me alone? I wish I had a brother at home to talk to or help me."

At one time Ash was that kind of brother. There was nothing he wouldn't do for his brothers. Before he'd fucked everything up and ran away. Before he became the selfish prick he grew up to be. "If you let me contact child services, I can help you, Stevie. You should let me call the cops."

"I-I don't know. I gotta think about it. I'm still afraid that if I report it, Jimmy will find out." Stevie checked his cheap plastic watch. "Oh shit, I better go or I'll be late." He jumped up, got to the opened door, and turned. "Thanks, Mr. Davis. I'll think about what you said and see you next week, all right?" He gave a small yet hopeful smile.

Ash stood and drew the boy into a hug. His skinny shoulders poked out like the fragile wings of a baby bird. How soon before they were permanently broken? "I'm always here for you if you need me. Here's my card with my cell phone. Call me anytime. I mean it." He took out his wallet and gave Stevie his card, which he was happy to see went into the boy's wallet. "Bye, kiddo."

Stevie waved and hurried out of the room. Ash, totally drained, returned to sit, all but collapsing from the emotional struggle within him. No matter what Stevie said, he was going to talk to Drew. Maybe Jordan's partner, the detective, could help. They had an obligation to report it, but they had to keep Stevie's name out of it. That poor, poor kid.

Without warning, it hit him, staggering him with its intensity. Himself at fourteen, helpless in his bed late at night, as his "father" cuffed him to the bedpost, blindfolded him, then touched him all over, kissing him, thrusting first his thick tongue in his mouth, then his thick cock everywhere else. His first kiss, a brutal memory. Any thought of hope or love, destroyed forever by the acts of violence against him. Since then, no man had ever kissed or fucked him. Sex was never about love; it was power and control.

"No, no." He groaned out loud as he rocked back and forth, helpless to stop the tidal wave of emotion crashing over him. Memories flooded through him of his own degradation and exploitation by adults who should have been protecting him, nurturing and caring for him. He couldn't shake off the fact that he'd left the other boys behind. He'd tried to report what was happening in his house when he ran away, but he knew they wouldn't take him, a gay kid from the street, seriously. Not against a respected police officer. He was as bad or worse than his foster father, leaving them there, but he couldn't stay or he'd have ended up killing himself. "Stop, stop it." The tears fell unchecked as he hunched within himself, shaking and moaning. "I'm sorry. I tried. I'm so, so sorry."

Warm, strong arms encircled him. Without thinking, he grabbed on to the person and held him tight, burying his face into a hard chest. Confused, he lifted his head and met the equally bewildered gaze of Drew.