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“And here I thought you'd be in a better mood after last night.”
“Last night wasn't the best idea. We were both exhausted and not thinking clearly. I made careless decisions because of you.”
“You mean you finally removed the stick from your ass and had a little fun for once.” He waggles his brows.
“No. I meant exactly what I said. We didn't use a condom.”
“Oh.” Looking everywhere but me, he tugs on the bottom of my shirt. “I'm not… I've never been with anyone else before so you don't have to worry.”
My bag slips from my fingers. “What? Why didn't you tell me?”
“I don't know. Didn't seem important at the moment.”
Feeling like I'm everywhere at once, I tug at my hair. “Of course it is. I could've hurt you. Who'd want to experience their first time this way?” Please tell me this is one of his tricks.
“It couldn't have been more perfect. Why would I want it to be different?”
“I disagree. You should have saved it for someone more special or have it happen under better circumstances.” I pick up my bag again and take out a clean pair of pants.
“And I'm saying you're wrong. I'll be outside getting fresh air.” He stomps toward the door and shoves his feet in his shoes before rushing outside.
How could a wonderful night turn into such a mess of a morning? He was a virgin. Why waste it on me? I can't make sense of the way this boy's mind works. It's like he doesn't give anything a second thought before doing it. Is he only that way with me? Why would he be?
With a thousand things spinning in my mind, I finish getting dressed and then wash up in the bathroom before collecting all our stuff. Phillip's outside, standing with his back to the side of the house and smoking a cigarette. “Where the hell did you get that?”
“My pocket.”
What else is he hiding in there? “Those aren't good for you.”
“Neither is shoving drugs inside my intestines but here I am.” There goes that damn smug expression again. He flicks the cigarette and stomps it into the sidewalk. Bending down, I pick it up as he walks toward the front yard. He leaves a mess behind everywhere he goes, doesn't he? Why am I starting to feel like one of them? We say bye to my friend, get back on the road, and pick up donuts at the first shop we come across.
The remainder of the drive consists of seven different stops for snacks or food, holding him until he feels better, and rubbing my fingers over his hand whenever he can't stop shaking. With anyone else they'd feel like hardships and I'd be excited to finally arrive back in Kansas to free myself of my problem, but when I leave him at the warehouse, instead of relief sinking in, all I feel is emptiness.
I stay parked in front for at least ten minutes, watching the doors, before driving away. He didn't want to go inside and cringed when one of the men working here tried to open it for him. I almost thought I was going to have to carry him inside. If I did, I'm not sure I'd let him go.
My phone rings and I answer it, finally driving off. “Hola?”
“The deal went well from what I hear,” Zacharias says.
“Si. They got everything they asked for. Nothing was mishandled or damaged.”
“And Phillip? He didn't cause any trouble?”
“No,” I respond too quickly.
“But there was another issue?”
“Gio, the man we thought who was after you, was actually trying to deliver the boy to someone else.”
“What for?” His voice is laced with curiosity.
“I'm not sure but I plan to find out.” I breathe out a sigh. “He'll come after him again soon.”
“Then we'll have to make sure we're all ready for when he does. He wants him dead I presume?” His breathing grows heavier.
“No. Alive,” I say.
“Ah. Someone finds him more valuable than we do.”
