Exhaling the Past - 1. Chapter 1

Fuck. The damn kid was there again. It figured.

I sighed as I dropped my head back against the headrest, wondering again just what the hell I was thinking. It had been several days since he'd been brought in. And, while I'd made my decision then, there was the hope that maybe the kid had gotten scared and gone home.

No such luck. Or maybe it was actually really lucky, depending on how you looked at it. My captain was going to have my head for what I was going to do though. But hell, the kid just looked so much like...

Neil. I closed my eyes against the image of my childhood friend, even if he was a year older. We'd been so close growing up in this small town. He'd been my first. It was innocent at the start, just joking around, jacking off together around ninth grade. But then it had morphed into more. By the time I reached my junior year of high school, I was sure I'd never love anyone else.

Movement at the corner of the truck stop brought my attention back. He'd shifted to the back corner of the store, nearly in the shadows. He was leaning against the wall, casually, but I knew he had to be cold without a jacket. I wasn't sure he even had one. But he would after tonight, if I had my way. If the kid gave me a chance.

Ryan. The kid's name was Ryan Harcourt. At least that's what it said on the arrest report when Steven brought the kid in last week. I'd watched my fellow officer booking the kid from across the precinct. The mop of dirty brown hair had hung over his face, but when Steven had asked him a question and those wide eyes looked up, I could see the abject fear and worry in the young kid's face. He was skinny, near gaunt, in jeans that hung low on his narrow hips. The t-shirt he wore was probably two sizes too small, but I wasn't sure if it was because that's all he had or if it was intentional for attracting johns.

He was wearing the same thing tonight, so I figured he didn't have much else.

A portly trucker had emerged from the rows of parked trucks and already had his hand on the kid's shoulder, leaning in, rubbing his rough stubble with his other hand as he appeared to be thinking about whatever the kid said—probably the kid insisting he was legal, which he wasn't. The man was eyeing the soft expanse of skin exposed above the boy's waistband. My stomach churned at the thought of that man's hands on the kid.

I steeled my resolve. This was crossing the professional line on so many planes, but I couldn't help it. Drawing in a deep breath, I found myself hesitating, closing my eyes for just a second. Was I truly willing to risk my job like this? Sure, I could arrest the kid again for solicitation and get him off the streets for a night, maybe two, but that wasn't what I wanted. I wanted to save him. I wanted to be there for him like no one was there for Neil.

Fuck, we'd been so happy together. Until we decided to tell our parents, to let them know how we felt about each other. Mine had been shocked—dad stunned into silence, and he brooded for several days before finally, reluctantly accepting that I was attracted to guys. It hadn't been easy, and he still wanted to ignore the fact that I was gay, but he didn't hate me for it.

Neil's parents, on the other hand, had been outraged. They had thrown him out of the house, telling him not to come back. I was devastated. I begged my parents to let him stay with us, but that was too much for them to accept right then. They admitted later they would have allowed it, especially after knowing Neil had nowhere else to go, no other family to turn to. But, by then, Neil had disappeared.

I never saw him again.

Seeing that kid being brought in last week, the spitting image of what I'm sure Neil would have looked like after a few weeks on the street, hit me like a punch in the gut. I'd always wondered what had happened to Neil, and this kid just reiterated what I was sure had happened to him.

I couldn't save Neil then. But maybe I could save this one.

But saving him meant crossing a line between my professional and personal life. Crossing a line that couldn't be undone. I'd debated with myself ever since I saw him hunched in the cell last week looking so lost and hopeless. Steven, of course, had felt the same way toward the kid and had let him go in the morning, after feeding him, without pressing any charges. We both had looked at each other helplessly. There was only so much we could do. As much as my oath as an officer of the law demanded that I protect and serve my community, I couldn't help everyone.

And bringing a teen prostitute into my own home certainly smudged those lines of professional and personal boundaries.

By the time I got my shit together and opened my eyes to start the car, to follow through, both the kid and the trucker had disappeared. Damn it. I looked around frantically, trying to catch sight of them, but to no avail. There were too many trucks lined up in the huge parking lot. Some were there for the night, others just stopping in for a short nap, and some just grabbing gas and food. This truck stop was huge, with ten to fifteen trucks parked at any one time, more at night. We never had any trouble with the truckers, they were great guys for the most part.

Unfortunately, it was also an easy place for a kid like Ryan to get lost in. With so many people coming and going, rows of huge trucks to slip in between, it was easy to ignore one kid lingering in the obscurity of the night.

I could only hope the kid would show back up in the shadows of the building. I watched the trucks leaving for the man I'd seen with the kid and was relieved when I never saw him. I continually tapped my thumb on the steering wheel where I had it clutched in my fingers.

I jumped when my phone vibrated in my pocket.

Cursing under my breath, I dragged it out to see the smiling face of my partner—and not my professional one.

"Hey," I answered.

"Hey, Colt," he greeted, his deep baritone voice washing away some of my nerves. "Are you heading home soon? I thought you'd be here by now."

"Shane," I breathed his name like a lifeline, "I'm here. At the truck stop."

There was a short pause. Of course, we had talked about this. Shane had seen how upset I was the night I came home after seeing that kid Ryan locked up in the cell. He already knew all about Neil, so he understood just how seeing this kid affected me. He'd even been the one to suggest that I offer him our guest bedroom for as long as he wanted it. He joked about how we'd been talking about adopting. "Hey, he's just a little more grown up than we planned on."

A little was an understatement. Hell, we knew little to nothing about him other than what I'd been able to read from Steven's report. The kid had admitted to Officer Danielson that he had no family to call, wouldn't even tell Steven where he was originally from. He'd run away when they threw him out, just like Neil had. He'd tried to be stoic and tough when Steve brought him in, but we could both tell he was just a scared kid. Even though Steven had decided that night not to book the kid, he'd gotten the Captain to agree to let him keep the boy in the holding cells for the night. At least that way, he had a warm place to sleep and a couple meals.

I'd been so stunned by Shane's offer when I'd gotten home that I'd wanted to run back to the precinct and whisk the kid back to our house. But, my brain actually kicked in, and I told him we should think about it. And we did talk about it more that night, and each night since. Shane was more understanding than I'd ever imagined. He admitted he'd seen too many kids in the ER broken and damaged because no one seemed to care, so he totally knew how I felt. He'd just never seen me reach the point where I was willing to breach my professional line.

Of course, by the time I returned the next morning, they'd already released the kid.

Ryan.

I had to remind myself that it wasn't Neil. Neil was gone. But Ryan was here. I could help Ryan. My eyes continuously darted around the parking lot for the small figure lost amid the roar of the diesel engines.

"Is he there?" Shane's voice snapped me back.

"He was, but I missed him," I admitted.

"Missed him? He left?"

"He, uh... I think he met up with..."

"Fuck, Colt, you let some sleazeball pick him up?" I winced at the censure in my lover's voice.

"It's not like I meant to," I shot back, immediately regretting it. I'd felt sick myself when I saw the guy approach Ryan, but I was too far and too slow in reacting. "Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just frustrated. I screwed up and didn't get to him first."

I could hear Shane sigh heavily. "I know. I'm sorry too, babe. I just... I know how you feel about helping this kid."

"Yeah, thanks."

"Of course. Hurry home. I love you."

I closed my eyes briefly, allowing myself to revel in Shane's adoration. I was lucky. I'd had people who accepted who I was, maybe not whole-heartedly right away, but at least hadn't totally despised me for something I had no control over. My mom had come around first, followed by several friends and my aunt and grandmother, and eventually my father. Neil hadn't had that, and I was willing to bet that Ryan's story was pretty much the same.

"I love you too," I whispered. "I'll wait a few more minutes, if that's okay."

"Sure."

He knew I'd waited here every night after work just to see if Ryan showed back up. I was beginning to think he'd moved on to another town until he'd appeared tonight. Apparently, his arrest had scared him enough to stay away for while, but judging from his emaciated form, hunger probably drove him back to the only thing he knew.

Fortunately, it was only about twenty minutes later when I saw him emerge from the rows of trucks again. He disappeared briefly behind the store before moving to lean against the brick building again.

I turned the key in the ignition. There were a few other patrons of the truck stop walking around. It wouldn't take long for another lonely man to take an interest in the kid. I just hoped my Captain didn't fire my ass for what I was about to do.

I pulled my car up alongside the curb where he was standing. My rolling the passenger side window down was obviously a clear invitation for him to come on over. I ignored the way he intentionally rolled his hips as he sauntered closer, trying to look older, more confident.

He leaned his elbows in the window. "Hey, how's it going?"

"It's going fine. Why don't you hop on in, Ryan, and I'll get you something to eat and a warm place to sleep?"

He jerked back, fear flooding his face when I used his name. "How—how do you know my name?"

I showed him my badge. "I'm Officer Colt Engall. I was there when Officer Danielson brought you in last week."

"Shit," he cursed, stepping back to lean against the building, crossing his arms over his small body. "So, what? Are you planning on arresting me? I haven't done anything. I was just standing here."

"Sure you were, kid."

"You can't prove anything."

"What about that guy you went with a few minutes ago?" I knew I was goading the kid, but I had to break through his defenses somehow.

The boney shoulders shrugged. "He just wanted to show me his truck. I like trucks, you know," he quipped, lying through his teeth.

"Yeah, I bet." I'd known the kid would be defensive when he saw I was a police officer, but I wanted him to know I wasn't just some random guy trying to pick him up—that I was here to help. I dropped my badge back in the cup holder and shoved open the door. I stood outside the car so he could see me, all of me, that I was just a guy. "Look, Ryan, I'm not here as an officer," I said softly, hoping to get past that scared, defensive exterior. "I just want to help you, okay? I know you have no reason to trust me, but hell, you jump into any trucker's cab with little thought to your safety. Sooner or later, you're going to get hurt."

Of course, he bristled at that. "I can take care of myself," he mumbled, but he glanced away from me, a haunted look marring those wide blue eyes. He wouldn't look at me, and I knew he was considering what I said.

I hated to think what might have happened to bring that tortured look to his face, the corners of his eyes glistening with a memory as he began chewing on a thumbnail. What had someone done? How badly had this kid been hurt? Maybe someday he would tell me, but tonight was not it.

"What do you want from me? This isn't some kind of trap, is it?"

"No, I just want to feed you and give you a warm place to sleep. You have to be cold."

He dropped his arms to his side, as if suddenly realizing that he'd been rubbing them to stay warm. He didn't want to admit weakness. "I'm fine. Thanks anyway."

Damn it. The wall went back up. I was sure it was beginning to crumble.

"I can arrest you for prostitution instead," I threw out there. If he was going to be stubborn about it, fine, but I wasn't leaving him out here in the cold to be picked up and fucked by random strangers. Not tonight.

His blue eyes widened. "You can't. I didn't do anything!"

I shrugged, knowing I was blurring the law just a bit. "Suspicion of prostitution. I can take you in, hold you for 24 hours. It'll be enough to get you fed and make sure you have a safe place to sleep."

His eyes narrowed. "Are you really threatening to arrest me just so you can feed me and stuff?"

I grinned. I think he was finally getting it. "Yep. So what's it going to be? A home-cooked meal and soft bed, or the precinct's food and a cot?"

"You know that's like illegal, right?" he quipped, but I could see the corner of his thin lips tipped in the tiniest of smiles.

I shrugged, crossing my arm over my chest. "Don't care, as long as I know you're safe."

He hesitated before edging closer. "You know I don't need your help, right?"

"I'm sure you don't," I conceded. He did need help, but his pride wasn't going to let him admit it. "But there's no reason you can't accept it when it's offered. You're just a kid. You shouldn't be out here on your own like this, selling yourself for a few bucks so you can eat." He looked irritated at my assessment, but we both knew it was true. "Look, I knew someone, someone like you, who had nowhere to go, no one to help him. I was young myself then, and I couldn't be the person to him that I'd like to be for you."

"And that is...?"

"Someone you can count on."

Those deep blue eyes darted up to mine, wide with hope and fear. He was afraid of letting anyone in, afraid of believing in someone.

"I've never had..." he cut himself off. I could tell he was battling with himself. Those innocent eyes looked up at me with such hope that it nearly broke my heart.

I took a risk by stepping closer, putting my hand on his shoulder, relieved when he didn't pull away. I wanted him to know if he put his faith in me, trusted me, I wouldn't let him down.

"You have someone now, Ryan. If you're willing to take the chance."

He was still, quiet for several minutes. But then he blinked, a tear slipping down his cheek as he nodded. I released the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. Thank God.

"Good, let's go home and get you fed."

"Wait." He darted off around the back of the building, returning with a tattered old backpack. He didn't have to say anything. I knew. Everything he owned fit into that little bag. It was a sobering reminder of just how hard life had been for him so far. I shuddered to think about where he had been sleeping.

But none of that mattered anymore. He'd accepted my help, had placed his faith in me not to let him down like everyone else in his life apparently had. And I was never going to break that trust.