Page 10 of Carry On

“You thought you’d try to steal my stuff,” I finished for her. Groaning, I ran a hand over my face and made myself sit up. I faltered as my stomach rolled violently from the rush of pain to my head.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” She shook her head quickly. That head kept shaking while she slowly backed away from me.

See that? She’s scared of you,the voice taunted, agonizingly loud in my head.

Well, no shit. I was a grown ass man in a damn near pitch black alley who’d caught her trying to steal. She was right to be afraid. If I were anyone else, she could’ve gotten herself killed.

“Do you realize,” I began gruffly while reaching into my bag, “how goddamn stupid that idea was?”

I pulled out a protein bar—one of the expensive ones that I occasionally treated myself to—and handed the unopened package to her. Leaning against the brick wall, I watched as she ripped it open and stuffed half the bar in her mouth.

“When was the last time you ate, kid?” I asked quietly. She mumbled something and shrugged. “How long have you been out here?”

“A few weeks, I think,” she mumbled through a mouthful of protein bar. Shit. No kid belonged out here that long. How had no one realized she was missing?

While I wanted to say it wasn’t my problem—thatshewasn’t my problem—I wasn’t an idiot. There were dangerous people out here willing to do whatever it took to survive and more. It was only a matter of time before the wrong people found her and took advantage of that. I couldn’t just leave her alone.

Ah, yes,the voice chimed in,ever the hero, aren’t you? Do you think anyone cares?

Whether they cared or not, it was the right thing to do.

“Do you want a hot meal?” I asked and watched as her eyes lit up. “Come on. I know a place.”

“I don’t have money,” she said.

“I didn’t ask for any,” I told her. Taking my time, I climbed to my feet. The world spun, and I clenched my jaw tight while my stomach threatened to empty itself of what little it had.

How can you save anyone when you can’t even save yourself?the voice asked.

“You okay?” Her voice was distorted in my ears as the hot migraine fog settled in. Fuck, I hated this.

“Just give me a minute,” I bit out. “Don’t feel so good…”

Understatement of the fucking century.

She took my silence as an invitation to talk. And kept on fucking talking. Maybe it was an anxious response—a need to fill the quiet—but whatever it was, it took everything I had not to snap at her. She was irritating, but I didn’t want to scare her away, either.

Minutes of chatter rolled by while I waited for the world to settle enough for me to be functional for a few blocks. Stupid fucking migraine.

You did this to yourself,the voice reminded me.

Debatable.

“Let’s go,” I said as I tossed my bag over my shoulder along with my guitar case.

“Do you play?” she asked.

“Yeah.” I said nothing else, knowing full well that my social battery was dead. Entertaining kids held no interest for me.

This trusting little shit seemed more than fine with following a strange man wherever. More reason she needed to be off the street.

While she chatted away happily, I led her down the street. I knew a few of the cops that frequented the area, ones who wouldn’t assume that I’d kidnapped some random kid.

I’d known Officer Bellingham for years. We had a quid pro quo kind of relationship. He helped me out from time to time, and I gave himinformation where I could. I didn’t give a fuck who got arrested. I wasn’t out here to watch out for everyone else.

He was a little younger than me but grounded. I liked that. He also wasn’t the kind to quickly judge someone just because they were homeless. He was a rarity—the kind of guy who treated us with respect.

Respect? What did you do to deserve respect?the voice demanded, but I did my best to ignore it.