As soon as the car pulled into the driveway, Teo opened the door and ran out. He stumbled trying to get out of the moving vehicle before running to the side of the house. He heaved, his stomach purging itself of everything inside.

His throat burned. His eyes stung. Christ, he was such a fucking pussy. Why did he always lose it when shit got serious?

“Mateo?” Molly called to him from the front of the house in that sweet voice of hers. “Are you okay?”

No. “Go away.”

Who the hell bugged someone after they just finished throwing up?

“He said he wasn’t feeling well earlier. Guess he has a stomach bug.” Mateo heard Josiah speaking to her.

“Oh...okay,” she replied. “It would be better if you came in the house. I can get you some ginger ale.”

Mateo ignored her. Didn’t she get the fucking message? He leaned against the wall, puke at his feet, afraid to close his eyes. His father had been right. He was weak.

He heard a noise, grateful they were going to leave him alone, but then something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. The kid walked around the side of the house, hands shoved into his pockets, his eyes cast down.

“She went inside. I...I told her I’d make sure you’re okay.”

“Don’t need your help.”

Teo watched as the kid actually made fucking eye contact with him and held it. Good for him.

“Yeah, but...but I need yours. And I don’t want to. I mean, not just you, but anyone. I don’t want people to see me and think they can do whatever they want. I don’t want them to see me as weak.”

For a second, Mateo wasn’t sure what to say. Had he really heard this kid right? He didn’t know whether to respect the hell out of him or tell him he was loco.

“I wanna be...more like you...” Josiah added.

Crazy won out. Mateo stepped toward him. Anger burned it’s way though his insides. “You wanna be like me, kid? You wanna have blood on your hands and death on your conscience?”

At that, Josiah’s green eyes widened. They were the wildest color, dark in the center with a lighter green on the outside. Teo pulled back, ripping his eyes away.

“Yeah, that’s right. You heard me. You gonna tell Molly and William now? Sleep with a knife under your pillow or keep the fuck away from the dangerous guy who hurts people?”

Damned if something didn’t draw Teo to Josiah’s eyes again. How they looked at him differently...deeply, in a way the kid had never braved before. And they were almost sad. Mateo had never experienced someone looking at him like that. Maybe Molly and William, in their own way, but it was with pity. He fucking hated pity. He didn’t deserve that Josiah’s eyes looked like...almost like in some ways he felt what Mateo did. Like he somehow got it.

He grabbed his stomach so he didn’t lose it again.

And then Josiah’s eyes shot to the ground for the millionth time.

Thank you.

Josiah’s shoulders lifted and fell again. “You didn’t hurt me. You didn’t have to but you stuck up for me...”

“That doesn’t mean shit.” Who the hell was this kid?

“It means something to me.”

That stupid fucking hair went in his face again and Mateo had the urge to push it back. To see if it felt as soft as it looked because he hadn’t had a whole lot of soft in his life. He’d never even wondered about the soft before. His fists tightened that he was now.

That kind of thinking, especially when it had to do with another dude, didn’t belong in his world. Just like it hadn’t when his dad made him fuck a girl at thirteen, to make sure he knew how to be a man.

For a second, Mateo let himself wonder what it would be like to be Josiah. He didn’t know the kid’s story besides the fact that his parents were dead, but there was something so fucking innocent about him. And Mateo wanted that. Wanted to protect it.

“You don’t need to be like me, kid. I won’t let anyone fuck with you. Not while I’m here.”

Maybe...just maybe taking care of this kid would absolve him from some of his sins.

Chapter Five

Josiah

When they went back to school, Mateo was by Josiah’s side every opportunity he had. Before school, after school, during lunch, he was always there, and it felt good to know someone had his back, that someone...he didn’t want to think cared enough, because Mateo couldn’t care about him. They didn’t really know each other, and even though it made him feel like a jerk, he wasn’t sure Mateo cared much about anything.

No, that was a lie. Mateo did—he just didn’t like it. That didn’t mean Josiah fell into that category.