Backstreet Love

CHAPTER THREE

Jim woke, stiff and cramped from sleeping in the chair, to find worried blue eyes watching him. He shifted forward, dropping a hand on the youth's forehead. Warm, but not dangerously.

"How are you feeling?"

The boy's eyes narrowed. "Why, want to sample the wares?"

Jim sighed. "I'm not interested in using you that way, Blair?"

Blair touched his bruised and battered face. "I suppose I don't appeal like this, huh?" Sharp teeth sliced through his puffed lip. "Damn, I missed the evening’s gig for sure, haven’t I? Looks like it's gonna be a hungry week or so."

"Stop worrying about that...."

"Yeah, right." Blair eased over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. "No worries. Who needs flow? I can eat air, for sure."

"Listen, Kid...."

"You ain't got nothing to say I want to hear, cop," Blair said. "How long you think you can keep me here, anyway?"

"As long as it takes."

Blair snorted. "So I am your prisoner, then?"

"I said not," Jim snapped. "You are here under my protection. I don't want you back out on the streets with your attacker on the loose."

Blair slanted him a curious look. "Why should it matter to you?"

"I'm a cop. That's what I do."

Blair snorted. "Cut the bull."

"What have you got against cops, Kid? We're there to protect you."

Blair laughed harshly, then gasped for air when his ribs protested the abuse.

Jim sprang forward to help, but Blair winced away, his eyes wide with terror.

"Blair...."

"Don't...." Blair flung his hands up, cringing away from the bigger man.

Jim eased closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Easy, kid. You can trust me."

"Trust," Blair's generous lips curled into an ugly sneer. "Oh yeah, sure. Like Pretty Boy trusted you cops? And Gussy? Like you protected them when the Pepperbacks came after them.

"Pretty Boy?" Jim snapped. "Gussy?" His eyes narrowed. "Blair, what do you know about those kids?"

"Leave me alone, will ya? Just leave me alone."

"I can't do that forever, Blair. Not after what you just said." Jim's hands grasped Blair’s trembling forearms. "But it can wait until you’ve rested up some. Lie back down, now. You need to rest."

Tears glimmered in blue eyes. "I gotta go, man. I gotta get back out there."

Jim brushed wild curls back from Blair's pale face, smiling his reassurance. "Later."

"You don't understand...."

"You worry to much, Chief," Jim said softly. "Are you hungry?"

Blair stared up at him silently.

"I bet you are." Jim drew the sheet up over Blair's lean frame. "You rest while I whip something up for us, okay?" Rising and moving away, Jim stopped at the French doors. "You want anything just call out. I'll hear you."

"Yeah? Well I want the key to the front door, Man," Blair snapped. "I want to go. You gonna give me the word to jet?"

Jim shook his head, wandering out into the main living area.

Alone, Blair shrugged the sheet off and cautiously got himself sitting up. Sweat poured down his face as he found the edge of the bed and rose unsteadily to his feet.

Blue eyes scoured the sparsely furnished room for his clothes. There, on the side table. He shuffled across the room. Leaning heavily on the chunky table, he pulled a ragged breath. His hands shook violently as his fingers closed over shirt and jeans.

Turning back toward the bed, Blair took a tentative step, but his knees gave way. He fell heavily, crying out, the pain in his battered body dragging him back into unconsciousness.

Moments later, or was it hours, Blair groaned himself awake. His wide-eyed gaze meshed with the big cop's and darted away.

"That was stupid, Blair."

Blair shrugged, regretting it instantly.

"Want to tell me what you thought you were doing?"

Blair glared up at him silently.

"No, I didn't think so." Jim sighed, "Look, Chief, you can either stay here or Juvy hall. You tell me which it’s going to be."

Blair's darting glance rocketed back to Jim’s. "Why are you doing this?"

Jim tilted his head, curious. "What?"

"Keeping me here. Why are you keeping me here?"

"Considering all the trouble you're turning out to be I wish to hell I knew." Jim twisted, reaching, then handed a steaming bowl of soup to the glowering boy-man. "It's not much. Chicken noodle. From a can. But it's hot and it's supposed to be good for you."

"My mom always says canned soups are the excep....." Blair's teeth snapped shut with a loud click.

"What, Blair," Jim asked, leaning forward wolfishly. "What does your mom say?"

Blair glowered up at him. "I ain't got nothing to say. Leave me alone, will ya? Or get me a lawyer."

"What do you need a lawyer for, Chief. You're here as my....guest..."

Blair sneered. "Guests can leave."

"Am I holding you down? Are you tied up to the bedframe?"

"Kinky." Blair grinned, back on ground he knew. "That what you like to do, big guy? Tie down the whores?"

"Blair....."

Feigned innocence glowed in blue eyes. "I really am a superstar stud, cop. I wouldn't mind giving you a freebie, just this once, ya know..."

Jim ground his teeth, willing his cock to go down in his pants before the kid caught on to his distress.

A soft hand landed in Jim's lap and the boy grinned. "You been holding out on me, big guy." His fingers measured the hard flesh under them and his grin widened. "And I do mean big guy....Wow..."

Jim batted the caressing hand away from his groin. "Don't do that."

"Come on, man. I turn your ass on so why play the goody-goody. Whose gonna know?"

"Me," Jim snapped, "I'll know. And I said no."

Blair's lower lip jutted and he laid the bowl aside untouched. "I don't take nothing for nothing. Better take me down to JH."

Jim rose to his feet. "If that's how you want it." He waved a hand for Blair to get up. "On your feet, kid."

Blair met his hard stare with fear. "You really would, wouldn't you? Lock me up, I mean?"

Jim crossed his arms over his chest. "I said on your feet."

What little color Blair had in his face bled out. He sucked in a shaky breath and staggered up. "I won't stay," Blair said. "I'll escape. I always do."

"That so?" Jim said coldly, "Then maybe we need to consider putting you in max security."

Blair turned to him, a mask of pure loathing dropping over the young features. "Ya gotta do what ya gotta do." He turned, wincing as he placed his hands behind his back for the cuffs.

"That won't be necessary, you stubborn little brat."

Blair arched a glance over his shoulder.

Jim leaned down to snatch up the cooling soup. "I'm moving you out to the living area so I can keep an eye on you, kid."

Blair's tears shook his shoulders as he floated toward the floor.

Jim scrambled to catch the youth, feeling the shock of contact ripple through the small frame.

Blair moaned softly, his head lolling back and his eyes rolling back in his head as flames of agony licked his ribs.

"Stay with me, kid," Jim cooed. "God, you should be in hospital."

"No," Blair slurred through numbed lips. "I’ll... run."

Jim scooped the boy up in his arms, smiling into unfocused eyes. "You won’t run, Blair. You know a good thing when you land in it.

Blair’s head rolled on Jim’s arm until it rested on his chest. "A good thing," he said through a pained chuckle. "Yeah, right."

Jim eased his burden onto the sofa. "Sit still," he murmured, unable to resist the urge to rake through Blair’s unruly curls. "I want to set some pillows up behind you."

Blair cast a curious glance at his captor through his lashes and a sad smile ghosted his pale lips. "I’m getting to ya, ain’t I?"

Jim hesitated in fluffing the pillows. "Yeah, sure, kid. I get turned on by a bad mouthed brat who can’t be trusted." He thrust the pillow in his hands against the armrest and stepped away. "Lie down."

Blair leaned back, grinning up at the bigger man’s back. "I knew you were kinky."

Jim paused in getting the kid comfortable, then grinned. "You just keep imagining, kid. That’s as close as you’re getting to knowing what being in bed with me feels like."

Blair’s lip jutted mutinously. "Prick."

Jim was saved from responding as his cell phone went off. Eyeing the mutinous kid with serious warning, he flipped open the phone. "Ellison."

"Ellison, where the hell are you?" Simon’s belligerent snarl crept into Jim’s ear, tugging a grin from him. "You forget we had a poker game tonight at Rafe’s?"

"’Fraid so, Simon." Jim stepped away from the boy, silently warning him to stay put with a hard glare and a finger.

"Yea, sure. I’m betting you got the door rigged to shock me if I tried it anyway." Blair grumbled, his shadowed gaze following Jim into the kitchen.

Soon as Jim disappeared behind the wall, Blair dove into his pocket and pulled out his own cell. He hit the speed dial and waited impatiently for the connection.

"Talk to me."

"Papa Jack...." Blair said softly. "It’s me, Blair...."

"Blair, where the fuck have you gotten off to this time, brat? You missed your gig."

"One of the Pepperbacks jumped me, Papa," Blair said, chewing his lower lip. "I’m....A cop took me back to his place and...Papa, I think I’m in trouble, here."

There was silence on the other end for a long moment. "Blair, do you know where you are?"

"No," he said, his voice raising. "I was unconscious when Ellison brought me here."

"Are you, well Jesus you can’t be arrested if he’s taken you to his place..."

"He says he’s keeping me here under protection, Papa. But he won’t let me leave. I’ve offered him whatever he wants, but he won’t bite." Blair glanced back toward the kitchen. "Papa, I’m scared."