Page 1 of Healed Hearts (Mended Hearts #2)

Holden-Sixteen Years Old

T he cold rain is seeping into my clothes. Honestly, it’s not even seeping. I’m fucking soaked. Like a wet rat. It’s freezing tonight too. If I wasn’t still in pain from the last time I stayed at the motel, I’d probably go talk to Motel Guy. It’s awful, but it’s a bed. A warm bed. And right now, I could really use some warmth. Ugh. This fucking sucks.

I glance around the parking lot I’m about to cut through, and that fucking weirdo who’s always watching me is in the parking lot again tonight. If he wants a quick fuck, I wish he’d come out and say it. At least the other dudes around here have the balls to tell me what they want.

Not him, though. He just stares at me. It makes me nervous to not know what he wants. I glance at him through his window. He’s attractive enough, I guess. He always talks to me, asks me about my day. I think he thinks we’re friends. Ha. Not a chance.

Ugh, I’m freezing. This is goddamn ridiculous. I pull my arms around myself, rubbing up and down like it can possibly do anything to help my body temperature. If I had known it was going to rain, I might have braved Motel Guy to get a place to sleep. Truthfully, though, I don’t know how much more of that I can take.

As I walk through the parking lot, I keep my head on a swivel, looking for danger. If I’ve learned anything in the past two years, it’s that not being attentive will get me nowhere. And if I’m going to get my ass fucked, I’m going to at least get food for it. Or clean clothes. Or a warm place to stay. An unwanted shiver, completely unrelated to the cold, runs down my spine. I hate having to do what I do. Hate it. But it’s my choice. My decision. I won’t let anyone take that away from me.

“Hey,” I hear someone yell, so I turn toward the voice. Why am I not surprised to find it’s car weirdo? He’s got his window rolled down and is staring at me.

“What?” I yell back.

“Why don’t you go home, kid? I can give you a ride.”

I stare at him. Is this dude for real? Does he think I’m standing out here for the fun of it? “I don’t have a home, you fucking moron!” I shout at him. Good God. What idyllic world is this dumbass living in? Not this one. What about my soaking wet, holey clothes makes him think I’m living the high life?

The look on his face is priceless. But he’s not deterred. “Get in the car then. At least until the rain stops.”

“No, thanks.” I’m not stupid. And I’m definitely not getting murdered tonight. My life may suck, but it’s still mine. This is my present, but it won’t be my future. I have plans. Big plans. I’m going to figure out a way to go to school. I’m going to become a nurse, and then I’m going to start a family. A family no one can take from me. With kids who never have to question if they’re loved. Who never have to question their worth.

“Seriously, get in. Please. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I won’t hurt you. I promise. I really can’t stand the idea of you being out here in the rain.” He seems genuine. I’ve gotten pretty used to guessing people’s intentions, and I’m a good judge of character, if I do say so myself.

I walk slowly toward his car. I really am fucking cold. What harm could one night do? It’s not like it can be any worse than my other option. I reach into my soaking wet pocket and grip the small knife I have stowed there anyway, though. Just in case.

I approach the car with hesitant steps, walking around the front when he gestures for me to go to the passenger side. When I open the door, I hesitate, leaning into the car just a bit, not taking my hand off the handle of my knife. “You’re not some kind of fucking creep, are you?” I’m not saying he’ll be truthful, but I’m pretty good at telling when I’m being lied to.

His lips quirk up into a little smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes, though. He looks sad. Really fucking sad, actually, which is none of my business. We all have monsters, and his are not my problem. “No. I’m not a fucking creep.”

Since I’m staring into his eyes when he answers, I try to gauge if he’s lying. I don’t think he is, but who knows, really? I’m not sure that I trust him, but I do want out of this rain. I’m freezing. My fingers are so numb I can’t even feel them anymore. Besides, I’ve fought off bigger men than him.

I nod. “Okay, I’ll get in.” What I want to say is, please don’t hurt me, please don’t hold me down and make me do stuff. But I won’t allow myself to voice those thoughts. I may have been sweet and soft at one point in my life. But there’s no room for that anymore.

I get into the car and pull the door shut behind me. The heat is blasting, and it feels so good I could cry. It doesn’t stop the way my body is trembling or the way my teeth are chattering, though.

He glances at me. “I’m Roman.”

“I’m Holden,” I grit out through my teeth as they knock together in my mouth. I’m not sure that telling him my real name was the right thing to do, but it’s too late now.

“Let me get you some dry clothes.” Alarm bells go off in my head. Everything comes at a price, and I’d rather not owe this guy anything. I try to shake my head, but he’s already leaning into the back seat. I follow his movements with my eyes as he ruffles through a duffle bag, pulling out a sweater and a pair of sweats. They look like fucking heaven.

He hands them to me and turns in his seat until he’s facing out the window. “I’ll face this way, and you can change,” he says. “I promise I won’t look.”

I stare at the back of his head, confused about that. But, I’m freezing and getting out of these wet clothes is priority one. I strip down quickly. It doesn’t matter to me either way if he looks. I just want to be warm.

True to his word, though, he doesn’t turn around until I tell him I’m done. The clothes are comically big on me—the sleeves coming at least six inches past my hands and the sweats are loose around my tiny waist, but fuck, they are so, so warm. My fingers are still numb, but between the heat and the dry clothes, I’m already warming up. I draw my knees up to my chest, trying to relieve the pressure on my aching ass.

We sit in silence for a minute. I wonder when he’s going to tell me what he wants for the clothes. He doesn’t say anything, but I know I need to pay for them.

I stare at the side of his face, while he pretends I’m not. He’s attractive. Full lips, high cheekbones, and pretty brown hair. If I have to suck someone off for some warmth, I could and have done worse.

Well, Hold, these clothes aren’t going to pay for themselves.

Besides, maybe if I offer myself up first, he won’t actually hurt me.

Taking a deep breath, I drop my feet to the floorboard, wincing slightly at the pain that spirals through me. If nothing else, I can thank him for not having to deal with Motel Guy tonight. Leaning across the console, the words, “Please don’t hold my head down,” come out of my mouth before I can stop them.

His hands fly up, and he looks at me in confusion, so I unbutton his pants with shaky, still half-numb fingers.

When I start to pull down his boxers, he drags in a gasping breath, grabbing my hands and throwing them off his body like I’ve personally offended him. “Woah. Stop. What the fuck are you doing?”

I blink at him. “Paying for the clothes.”

I reach back out, my body shutting down, knowing this routine by now. Shut down. Disassociate. It won’t be as bad that way. He’s not hard, but that’s okay. I know I can fix that. He grabs my hands before I can make contact with his dick. “Paying for the…” His voice trails off as he looks at me, his expression shifting from confusion to sadness. “You do not need to pay me for the clothes.” His voice is soft, kind. But firm too. He gives my hands a gentle squeeze.

I start to panic. I really can’t afford to owe him. I can’t take the chance. “It doesn’t have to be a blowjob. I can do other stuff too. You can fuck me instead.” God, that’s going to hurt so much, but I can do it. If that’s what he wants. Between him or Motel Guy, I’d choose him.

He shakes his head. “No. I don’t want a blowjob, and I definitely don’t want to fuck you.”

I cock my head at him. I don’t understand what’s happening right now. “I have to pay for the clothes, though.”

He shakes his head again. “Absolutely not. Are you warm?”

I’m definitely getting there. I nod slowly, confused about his game. Is he waiting until I’m more comfortable? Until I’m asleep, and my guard is down?

“That’s all the payment I need.”

“I don’t understand,” I say, his words confusing me enough that my brain-to-mouth filter malfunctions.

“I didn’t ask you to get in my car to get any of… that . I wanted to make sure you were warm. That’s all.”

I eye him warily. He doesn’t seem like he’s lying, but I’m not sure if I can trust him. “Really?”

“Really. How old are you?” he asks.

“Sixteen.”

He closes his eyes, like he’s in pain. “Do you wanna stay with me for a while? I mean, I don’t have a house, either. But at least I have my car. I have a job too. It’s way too cold for you to be outside this time of year.”

Stay with him? Like in this car? With the heat? What if he tells me to leave? Will I have to go back to Motel Guy? “But… how will I eat?”

“I’ll make sure you have food,” he says.

There has to be a catch, right? No one is this nice. “What do you want in exchange?”

“Not a damn thing. I only want to make sure you’re warm and safe. Nothing else.”

I’ve stayed in worse places than this car. At least it’s warm. I’ve also had sex with way uglier guys. He looks close to my age. I could do worse. If he changes his mind, it probably won’t be too bad. Maybe I could even like it. Yeah, I could probably enjoy it. Maybe he’d be gentle. I roll my eyes at myself. Yeah, fucking right. No one is gentle with a whore, Holden.

“Holden,” he says, giving my hands another squeeze, drawing my attention back to him. “Would you wanna do that?”

I feel another twinge in my ass. Maybe he’ll hold off until I can heal a little. I nod. “Yeah, I think that would be okay. If you… if you change your mind, though, about the payment, you can tell me.”

He shakes his head, gently releasing my hands. “I won’t be changing my mind.”

We’ll see about that, I guess.