Chapter 2

Standing beside the giant, who’d let go of my wrist once the elevator door closed, leaving me with no chance of escape, I watched him push a button. Then blinked as the elevator began to rise.

“Aren’t you taking me to the lobby? The cops will probably be a lot happier if they don’t have to come fetch me.” I chewed at my bottom lip when he glanced over at me as though I was a slightly irritating puppy performing a neat trick. Then I cleared my throat. “You know, I could probably talk my brothers into bringing the car back. And…and I could work off the cost of the broken window.”

He gave me his full attention, lips slanted in amusement. “What happened to accepting your fate?”

My fate of a prison term. Yeah, sounded like a good time, but if I could avoid it? I shrugged. “Probably be easier to get a job without a criminal record.”

“Probably.” He snorted, nudging me forward as the elevator slid open. “I’ve decided to let Mr. Ashburne figure out what he wants to do with you.”

The Mr. Ashburne? My mouth went dry and I dug the heels of my worn sneakers into the charcoal colored carpet under my feet. “How about we just let the cops deal with me?”

“How about you don’t piss me off, kid? It’s been a long day, I’m tired, and I want to get this over with.” He took a key card from his pocket and swiped it down the reader by one of the many large, steel doors lining the hall. With his hand on my shoulder, he propelled me into the reception area of the Ashburne Style and Media Company.

The place was damn impressive. Everything was shining, from the crisp, white walls, the weird, black art deco chairs around a round table in the corner, to the black glass reception desk in the center of the room. The wall-to-wall carpet was thick, with circles of black, white, and steel grey.

I didn’t get much time to check out the rest of the room, because Mr. Manhandling-Giant was guiding me to a short hall past the desk. He stepped up to a pair of dark wood doors and rapped his knuckles on them.

No answer, but he opened the door anyway.

“Mr. Ashburne, I’m sorry to bother you.” The giant tugged me to his side, his attention on the man sitting behind a big, black desk. “I thought you’d be interested to know your car has been stolen.”

The man didn’t look up from whatever he was writing in the notepad set between a huge desktop screen to his left, and the laptop off to his right. “Oh?”

“Yes.” The giant sounded annoyed. “I’ll have Jasper bring the limo, but—”

“Have him bring the town car if you must, but you know I hate the limo.” Mr. Ashburne flipped the page and continued writing. “Is that all?”

I glanced up at the giant when he went quiet. He ground his teeth. “No. I caught one of the thieves. I thought you’d like to meet him.”

The pen in Mr. Ashburne’s hand was set softly down on top of the notepad. He sat up, lifting his head slowly, a bored smile on his lips as his eyes met mine.

Fuck me, this dude is scary. I swallowed as those piercing green eyes trapped me. Even from this distance, they were stunning, and frightening with their intensity. Not like emeralds, but more like a rainforest. Deep and wild, full of so much danger, but beautiful from a safe distance.

Which could describe every inch of him. He stood and I realized he was almost as big as the giant beside me. Or maybe I was just ridiculously small. I felt small as he stepped around the desk and came toward me. His expensive, dark blue suit was tailored perfectly to emphasize his broad shoulders and solid build. A five o’clock shadow darkened his jaw, making him look even more intimidating. Calling him handsome would have been an understatement. He probably made the men who modeled for his clothing line feel inferior.

The only thing that didn’t fit with his perfectly put together appearance was his hair, which was unconventionally long. Men like him usually had short, styled hair, but his was slicked back and tied low. It looked so soft, I had the strangest urge to reach out and touch it as he circled me.

Not being completely stupid, I kept my hands to myself.

He stopped at my left side, his gaze on my face as I stared straight ahead. “Are you hungry?”

I blinked. Am I what?

Why in the world would he ask me that?

“Simple question. You will answer.”

My stomach growled, answering for me. My cheeks heated as I folded my arms over my chest and ducked my head.

“Luther, please bring us something to eat.” Mr. Ashburne walked away from me, returning to his seat behind his desk. “Take a seat, boy. What is your name?”

“Alec.” I frowned at the giant, Luther, as he pressed his hand against my shoulder, pushing me toward one of the two metal and leather chairs in front of the desk. As I sat I heard the door open and close.

Elbows on the desk, fingers steepled, Mr. Ashburne studied me like I was a new specimen he’d discovered, and he was trying to decide what to call me. “Alexander?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Last name?”

“Tremaine.” Might as well tell him. The cops probably would once he filled out the police report. “Look, Mr. Ashburne, I’m sorry about your car. You have no reason not to call the cops, but like I told the giant—I mean, Luther—”

“’The giant’? Really, boy, he’s not that big.” Mr. Ashburne chuckled, picking up his pen again. He pulled out a drawer and lifted a stack of papers to his desk, writing on them as he continued. “What do you do for a living, Alexander?”

“It’s just Alec. I mean, that’s what people call me.” I hunched my shoulder as his eyes narrowed. Right. He could call me whatever he wanted. “Uh…I don’t do anything.”

“Aside from stealing cars?”

“Yeah…that’s new.”

“Good.” He jotted down a few more things on the papers. “What’s your address?”

Shit. The only one I had to give was my brothers’ address, but I didn’t live there. Not since I ran away when I was sixteen. Giving him their address was the same as turning them in. He would send the cops there and I’d be spending the next five to ten trying not to be murdered by my own blood.

“I don’t have one.” The truth.

He slammed the pen down on his desk and stood. “Alexander, don’t lie to me. I am feeling generous. I would like to offer you an opportunity. One you do not deserve.” He approached me, his voice lowering as he leaned over me, one hand on the back of the chair by my shoulder. “Make no mistake. I will know everything about you very soon. This will be more pleasant for you if you are as honest with me as possible.”

More pleasant sounded good, and I wished I could give him the answer he wanted, but he wouldn’t believe me. The story was fucked up and pathetic and what would a guy like him know about having absolutely nothing? About choosing to have nothing when the alternative was staying where you were treated like dirt and could only prove your worth in abandoning your conscience and any hope for a future?

I had abandoned all those pretty ideals today. I’d become all I’d tried to escape.

My chin jutted up and my eyes burned as I met his hard gaze. “I’m fucking homeless, all right? I dropped out of school when I was sixteen. Ran away from home so I wouldn’t be forced to steal or sell drugs. But I was tired of being hungry, so I gave up being good and figured if I did one bad thing, maybe my life would change.”

Mr. Ashburne inclined his head, his eyes softening slightly. The brilliant green almost seemed to glow as he straightened and his lips curved. “I believe you.”

He moved to his desk, staying on this side, resting his hip on the edge as he continued to study me.

Which was driving me nuts. I was starting to be a bit less scared of the cops, and a bit more scared of him. He hadn’t called them yet, so what exactly were his plans for me?

Not gonna lie, the guy was hot, so the idea of him wanting me wasn’t an issue. Living on the street, I’d considered whoring myself out just to get enough money for a meal. I was gay and men paid good money for a pretty boy. But that idea had been shelved along with the one where I’d sell drugs with my brothers to get a roof over my head.

I’d met some of the guys who dealt with pimps, and they weren’t much better off than I’d been when I’d lived with my brothers. They weren’t as skinny as me, well, except for the ones on hard drugs, but the constant bruises were a reminder of why a sleeping bag and a ball cap at my feet on the curb was preferable to a nice, warm bed.

If Mr. Ashburne wanted to fuck me, I’d be cool with that. Hell, just the thought had blood rushing to my dick, but I couldn’t peg him as a gay man. I was pretty sure I’d seen him in the paper before with chicks. Hot chicks. Models and actresses and girls with rich daddies.

So whatever he wanted from me, it probably wasn’t to get in my torn, grungy blue jeans.

“Try to relax, Alexander.” Mr. Ashburne spoke softly, and for the first time, I noticed he didn’t have the Texan drawl absolutely everyone I knew—including myself—had. His voice was deep. Refined. And I couldn’t detect an accent at all. It was like his voice was fine-tuned to sound dark, strong, alluring and perfect as the rest of him. “I have a few questions for you. Answer them truthfully and your situation may improve in ways you’ve never imagined. We will have something to eat. Not here though. You don’t seem comfortable.”

I wasn’t, but I hadn’t been paying much attention to comfort. The chair was stiff, like whoever he made sit here shouldn’t want to stay long. He must have investors meet him somewhere else. Otherwise, the chairs alone would have his company going bankrupt.

He stepped up to me and held out his hand.

Without thinking, I placed my hand in his. My heart stuttered as he pulled me to my feet. All my blood surged down to my balls. He was so close the fresh aroma of whatever soap he used, the spice of his cologne, and the mint on his breath, flooded my senses. The heat of his body had me leaning toward him. Careful not to touch, but…damn, I was cold. The room was cold and his body lured me in like a fireplace with soft fur laid out on the floor, just close enough to soak in all the warmth without getting burned.

“Your hands are cold. Stay right here.” He released my hand and headed to the wall, which looked solid, but when he pressed his hand to it, a door slid open, revealing a small closet. He grabbed a black, wool sweater, the kind a man would wear over a shirt and tie, and handed it to me.

The thing felt expensive. I was dirty. I couldn’t wear his nice stuff.

Before I could object, he caught my wrist and met my eyes. “You can keep it. Alexander, I need to make one thing very clear. This will be the last time I see you looking like…this.” His lips curled as he looked me over. “We’ll eat as we discuss my plans for you. Is there anything else you need first?”

I shook my head, completely humiliated. I still didn’t have a clue what his ‘plans’ were, but I got it. I didn’t belong here. He was being nice, and I’d take what I could get.

Going to prison was still a possibility. If there was an alternative?

At this point, I wouldn’t question the why or how.

I was feeling something I hadn’t in so long, I didn’t recognize it at first.

Hope.