Page 22
My heart sinks. “I’ll just wait in the truck. I won’t touch anything. I won’t do anything.”
“I said no.”
“Why?”
His eyes narrow, and he looks truly fed up with me as he explains, “I don’t know them. They don’t know me. What if they don’t like another person here? That’s why you’re hiding.”
“I could hide in here…”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“If the buyer sees some skinny queer sitting in my truck, he’ll think you’re a fucking snitch.”
I blink back tears. “I-I don’t look like a snitch.”
“You do.” He jabs a finger at my face. “Big scared eyes. Pretty-boy hair. Looking around like you’re planning on telling everything to the cops later.”
“I won’t look at anyone.”
“Doesn’t matter. They see you, they might walk.”
“Then why bring me?”
“I told you why.”
“To toughen me up?”
He snorts. “Yeah. You think bills get paid drawing dresses all day?”
I swallow thickly. “I work.”
“At a grocery store.” He shakes his head. “You need to see how shit actually gets done.” I eye the backpack again. “Somebody needs to teach you how to be a man.”
I wrap my arms around myself and whisper, “I really don’t want to do this. Please, Wade.”
Wade crowds me against the door and presses his palm around my jaw, so I can’t look away. “You think I give a shit what you want?”
“No, I’m sorry.”
His grip tightens, making me wince. “What did I say about that?” I clamp my lips shut. “You want to be treated like a child your whole life?”
“No, sir…”
“Then quit acting like one.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re nineteen. You got a dick? Fucking act like it.” I nod shakily. He releases me, straightens, then says flatly, “Leave your bag.”
“But my work stuff’s in there.”
“And? You ain’t at work. You don’t need it with you to watch.”
I tuck my phone in my pocket as Wade gets out, circles to the passenger side, and roughly tugs me out of the truck.
He slams the door and says, “Stay close.”
