Chapter 55

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SKYLAR

SKYLAR PAID the rideshare driver and got out of the car. He hesitated on the sidewalk, looking at the small, municipal airport terminal that stood before him. Skylar tightened his grip on his bag. Here he was, once again. Homeless and alone.

At least he actually had clothes this time. Not like that day when his parents had so cruelly kicked him out. Hell, even having a toothbrush was a blessing. Plus, he had money now. Not much—not after he'd paid for his surgery and then left some money for Ward—but maybe just enough to buy a plane ticket. Maybe enough to get a room for a night in a cheap motel, wherever he wound up.

Skylar sucked in a breath, stifling the urge to turn around and go back. He couldn't do that. Ward could let him go too easily. Even Charlie could run back home at the drop of a hat, leaving Skylar behind. It was better for him to do this now. To run away before they could tell him it was time to leave.

Because that day surely would have come at some point. Skylar couldn't bear to face it. He could have stuck around and absorbed whatever happiness came his way, putting off the inevitable. But the pain then would be worse than it was now. He'd never survive having Ward or Charlie—or both—tell him it was over.

Definitely safer to leave now, on his own terms.

Skylar drew himself up and strode inside. He joined a short line and waited his turn, idly glancing around without really seeing anything. It was all he could do not to cry. He had to keep everything hidden away. Only once he had arrived somewhere and had a locked door between himself and the world, then he could let it all go.

The wait in line gave him time to consider his options. He pulled out his wallet and counted what cash he had left. There was still some money left in his bank account, too, but he wanted to save that as a buffer, as a safety net off of which to rebuild his life once he got somewhere.

Should he pick the cheapest flight, regardless of when it left or where it was headed? Should he pick the soonest flight? Or should he splurge on whatever flight took him the farthest distance?

The latter would be the safest choice. The farther he went, the harder it would be to get back. And he couldn't come back. He couldn't weaken from his resolve. Besides, this had always been the plan. For over ten years, he'd envisioned this moment. Going as far away as he could possibly get, somewhere nobody knew him. Where nobody would look at him and know automatically that he was a whore.

But could he truly escape that? What would he say when he went to apply for a job? He'd run into the same roadblocks no matter how far away he went, trailing his work history behind him like an enormous chain, dragging and clanking and choking him.

Skylar shuddered at the thought.

“Next!” someone called.

Skylar blinked, realizing they were talking to him. He looked all around, the last one in line, then strode forward, tightening his grip on his bag. “I need a flight,” he began lamely, then felt himself blushing at the stupidity of the request.

The clerk didn't comment. “What's your destination?”

Skylar hesitated. Where could he go? He still hadn't decided. Feeling his face go hot, he pulled out his money and set it on the counter. “How far will this get me?”

The clerk raised an eyebrow, then clicked away at something on a computer. She rattled off a series of destinations, all of them way out east via connecting flights in San Jose, Phoenix, and Los Angeles.

Skylar tried to think. He was sure he looked suspicious as hell, standing there with a handful of cash, asking to go far away with no destination in mind, but he didn't know what else to do.

He tuned back in, listening to the departure times of the flights. They were all hours away. Skylar would have to sit there and wait, spending the whole time fighting the temptation to stay.

“What's the next available flight?” he asked. The sooner he got out of there, the better.

The clerk turned back to the computer. “The next flight out that I can get you on is nonstop to San Francisco International Airport.”

Skylar stared at her. It was all he could do not to throw his head back and laugh. San Francisco? Are you fucking kidding me right now?

Of course that would have to be the soonest flight out. The one that took him right back to where he'd always been.

Skylar deflated. It was a sign. That was where he belonged. Not here. Not with Ward and Charlie, with perfect happiness and safety. He was a whore. An unwanted, dirty, nameless whore. He wouldn't have to try to explain his past. Wouldn't have to constantly worry that someone might find out. Because it wouldn't matter. It would all be right there, out in the open, just like it always had been.

“I'll take it,” he said, barely managing to get the words out above a whisper.

He paid for the ticket, put what little remaining cash he had back into his wallet, and walked off to go through security. His stomach lurched at having to leave his bag, but it was a little too big to count as a carry-on. Skylar itched all over, being separated from all his worldly possessions yet again. He had to tell himself it was only temporary. In a few hours, he'd have them back.

Along with his old life.

Skylar sat down to wait. He pressed his hands between his knees, wishing he at least had his phone to distract him. Maybe read a book he hadn't finished. Except, right before handing over his bag, he'd shut the phone off and stuffed it inside, leaving it out of his reach.

He cursed himself, wishing he'd thought to shut the phone off sooner. He didn't want Charlie to be able to track where he'd gone. Besides, he'd have to mail it back to the Pratts once he got settled somewhere. He'd thought about leaving it on the counter at Ward's place, but it wasn't Ward's responsibility. It was his. He needed to make sure the phone got where it needed to be.

At least the wait wasn't too long. Skylar barely got a chance to feel the itch to change his mind when the announcement was made that his flight was boarding. He got up on shaky legs and joined the line, handing over his ticket and walking slowly onto the plane.

Skylar's heart beat so hard, he thought it might burst right out of his chest. He listened to the whir of the engines, the growing sound making his heart beat even faster. The plane lurched as it began to move. Skylar gripped the armrests, staring out the window, fighting to stay calm. Oh fuck . He wasn't ready. He didn't want to leave!

But he had no choice. Ward and Charlie deserved better, and they were sure to find it. Whether it was in one another or someone else in the future, they'd be happy, not having to explain Skylar or needing to help him keep his dirty secret.

The plane taxied onto the runway, then came to a stop. Skylar swallowed hard. The engines roared, and the plane began to move, going faster and faster until it began to lift. Skylar's stomach lurched. He glanced out the window and saw the earth fall away beneath him.

There was no turning back now.

The flight was just over an hour, though it seemed to only last a few minutes. Skylar came out of a trance when he felt the plane tilt, beginning its descent. He gave a start and looked out the window.

Oh fuck . He was back.

The plane touched down, making his heart lurch again. Skylar gripped the armrests and stared straight ahead, dreading what was coming but also desperate to get it over with.

Taxiing seemed to take forever. It felt like they rolled along the ground for miles before finally coming to a stop.

Everything blurred around him. Half of the passengers stood up all at once, looming over him, crowding the aisle, reaching for their carry-ons. Skylar itched to get off the plane. Away from the press of bodies. He felt crushed and surrounded, like the hallway in his nightmares. It got worse once he was inside the terminal. People rushed here and there or ignorantly blocked the way, holding up his progress.

Skylar finally made it to the baggage claim area, then had to stand there, shifting from foot to foot, waiting for his flight's luggage to appear.

He had to get out of there.

Skylar spotted his bag. He rushed around the carousel, squeezing through the crowd rather than waiting for the bag to come to him. Skylar snatched it up and hugged it to his chest. He let out a sigh of relief. At least he had this. Something to his name. A little bit more than nothing.

He turned away and followed the signs to the exit, shying away from the crowds as he went.

Out on the sidewalk, he came to a stop. What was he supposed to do now? Skylar squirmed. He wished Ward were there to tell him what to do. Then he wouldn't have to make any decisions or have to worry about anything but the immediate task in front of him.

Then again, he knew what the immediate task was. The only option available.

Skylar drew himself up and raised a hand, flagging down a taxi.

A car pulled up. Skylar dove into it and rattled off an address that he'd never be able to forget if he tried. He sat back, clutching his bag. Skylar idly watched the meter, hoping he'd have enough to cover the fare. Just his luck, he might have to stop and walk the rest of the way.

But they reached the building, and Skylar still had a few dollars left in his wallet after he paid. A part of him regretted leaving the money on Ward's counter, but he knew he wouldn't have been able to live with himself otherwise. Ward had done so much for him. For him and for Charlie. They'd been living off the man for months.

Skylar owed him so much.

But he couldn't think about that now. He'd have to make some more money first, but that meant walking through the door that stood before him.

Skylar sucked in a breath and stepped inside.

He got onto the elevator and held out a shaky hand. With another deep breath, Skylar pressed the button for the fifteenth floor.

When the elevator came to a stop, Skylar got out of the car in a daze. His feet moved on autopilot, taking him down a hallway that seemed to both stretch and shrink simultaneously. Far too soon, Skylar found himself standing in front of a familiar door.

Fucking hell . He couldn't do this. This was the very last place he wanted to be.

But he had no choice. This was his life. Had been for more than ten long years. It was all he really knew. All he deserved.

The dream was over. It was time to wake up and face reality.

Skylar knocked on the door.

He waited, bracing himself. A long moment passed with no response. He knew it wasn't like in the movies, where people seemed to be waiting there to answer the door at the drop of a hat. Still, Skylar knocked again, unable to resist. He needed this to be over with.

“ I'm coming! I'm coming! ”

Skylar winced. He'd thought he was never going to hear that voice again.

The door opened. Uncle Zeke stood there in his boxers and bathrobe, his hair a mess, like he'd just woken up. In all likelihood, he probably had.

But the sleepy, grumpy look on his face slowly vanished. A grin appeared instead. He straightened up and gave Skylar a slow, thorough once-over. “I knew you'd be back.”

Skylar barely managed a smile.

Uncle Zeke took a step back and held the door open. “Come on in. You know the drill.”

Skylar hesitated, his skin crawling with panic as he stepped over the threshold. He couldn't do it. Not yet. He knew he'd have to eventually, but he needed more time to get used to the idea. There was no way he'd survive it now. Not after what he'd shared with Ward and Charlie just last night.

Fuck. Last night? It felt like a lifetime ago.

“I can't,” Skylar blurted out.

“Why not?”

“I…um…” Skylar put a hand on his belly, sure that he was going to be sick, then realized he had a perfect excuse to use. “Uh…doctor's orders,” he said. “I just had my surgery.”

“Oh.” Uncle Zeke's eyes went wide. “Fuck. Are you okay? Should you be on your feet? Shit. Come inside. Come lie down.”

The man bustled Skylar into a guest room and fussed over him, offering him food or drink or a bath, anything he wanted. Skylar lied and said all he needed was to lie down, so Uncle Zeke brought out extra blankets, turned up the heat another couple degrees, put a glass of water on the nightstand, and left him to rest.

Skylar waited until the door clicked shut before he sank onto the edge of the bed.

Then he burrowed under the blankets and cried himself to sleep.