Chapter 2

Early the next morning, I had the lock changed and hired movers to clear out all the junk Richard had left behind.

Hayden stood by the door clutching the towel I'd given him the night before. His smile was strained.

"Does that mean I have to go too?"

What was I supposed to say to that?

Before I could answer, he added, "I won't freeload. I can clean, cook, whatever you need. I learn fast."

"You need to focus on getting better first."

Then I sighed. "Come home with me."

I rented a two-bedroom apartment. It wasn't big, but at least it was quiet. Once we got there, I found Hayden a clean set of pajamas and another towel, then straightened up the spare room for him.

"Go take a shower."

He lingered in the doorway with the clothes in his arms.

"These are yours?"

"Whose else would they be?"

Once I heard the shower running, I went to the kitchen to make some oatmeal, but my thoughts wouldn't settle.

Something about Hayden kept bringing back things I'd rather not remember.

When I was a kid, the sound I dreaded most was the door opening at night. If Richard came home late, it meant he'd been drinking. Sometimes he yelled. Sometimes he smashed things.

Later, when Laura got sick, he'd even gambled away the money for her medication. Then he'd sit beside her hospital bed, hold her hand, and promise that once he made some money, he'd take her to a better hospital.

Laura believed him once.

It nearly killed her.

That was why I hated having men too close to me.

When Hayden came out, my pajamas hung loose on his frame. I hadn't realized until then just how delicate his features were. He was prettier than most women I'd met.

He was also painfully thin. There were old scars along his collarbone and more on his arms.

I handed him the ointment.

"Apply some of this."

He gave me a small pout. "Could you do it? I can't reach my back."

I frowned. "Hayden."

"My hands are shaking." He pushed his sleeve up a little. "Babe, I really can't reach."

In the end, I had him sit on the edge of the bed with his back to me. I spread the ointment over the injuries, trying not to think too hard about the feel of his skin beneath my fingers. Halfway through, I realized I was sweating.

"Are you always this nice to people?" he asked.

"Depends on the person."

"And what am I?"

"A temporary houseguest."

A smile tugged at his mouth, but he didn't answer.

For dinner, I made plain oatmeal and eggs. Afterward, Hayden tried to take the dishes from me, but I sent him back to the couch and washed them myself.

He sat behind me, watching.

"Why are you helping me?"

"It's no skin off my back."

"You're lying."

I looked back at him.

He had his knees drawn up to his chest.

"That's not why. You just couldn't bring yourself to leave me there."

That night, I pointed toward the spare room.

"You can sleep in there."

He pouted before answering, "It's too dark."

"Turn on the light."

"It's still dark with the light on."

I turned to look at him. "What are you trying to say?"

He pressed his lips together, then pulled his sleeve back enough to show the marks around his wrist.

"I've been locked up before."

Well, that did it.

There was no way I could say no after that.

I lifted one corner of my blanket.

"Just for tonight."

Hayden came over carrying his pillow.

"I won't move around."

"You'd better not."

The two of us squeezed onto my narrow, low bed. After I turned off the light, he shifted closer until our skin touched.

He smelled faintly of medicine, and his body felt slightly cool against mine.

I'd never been this physically close to a man before. Heat slowly spread through me.

For a long time, Hayden didn't say anything. I thought he'd fallen asleep.

Then he spoke into the dark, sounding hurt.

"Are you going to be like him too? Are you going to sell me one day?"