Crossing The Line - 2. The Hard Way

Ricky stared out the large window of the bus station for what felt like the hundredth time in the past two and a half days. He watched the people outside the slightly tinted glass as they scurried to get their luggage and bags into the right hands and board their designated bus before it departed without them, a faint smirk of amusement on his lips that didn’t lighten his hard blue eyes any at all. The freedom he’d been feeling before when he’d arrived here on one of those same buses had quickly faded to a mixture of fear and desperation when he’d realized that he’d not planned out his escape from his uncle as well as he’d thought.

Between the bus ticket, meals, and various other things he’d purchased before reaching his destination, he had found himself without the means to support himself once he got there. Hunger had forced him to do a few things in the nearby bathroom that he didn’t care to think about any more than necessary but he’d made enough to cadge a pack of smokes from the vending machine near the ticket office and get enough junk food from the snack machine to shut his stomach up for a while … but only for a while. Somehow he didn’t think now that it had been such a great idea to take off from his uncle’s house in only the clothes he had on and fifty dollars in cash.

He winced a little and turned from the window as his stomach growled loudly. It was about time to scope out another mark for his next meal before the nausea turned to out right puking. Still better than staying with Dave, he comforted himself silently. At least with these marks I’m getting something outta it besides my ass beat. The pep talk only lasted long enough for him to spot the balding guy in the ticket booth watching him again with narrowed eyes.

“Shit,” he muttered darkly, shooting the forty-something guy a piercing glare and watching in satisfaction when he found something on his counter top to be more fascinating for the moment.

Letting his gaze roam over the almost empty bus station, he searched for his next mark even as he knew his time here was getting very limited since Mr. Ticket Taker has begun to get suspicious about him hanging around for so long. He’d caught the disgusted looks the man had given him when he’d exited the bathroom with a few dollars in his hand that he hadn’t had before, and he knew the dude had to know how he’d made the dough since the bathrooms were used for one of two things in a place like this and Ricky obviously hadn’t made money using it for its intended purpose.

Ricky leaned back against the dirty wall and scanned the few faces around him while putting a cigarette between his lips, looking for someone that made eye contact and had the look in their gaze … the hopeful, lust driven look he’d learned meant they were willing to make it worth his while to help them forget themselves for a few stolen moments in the filthy men’s room. He was good looking enough to catch the attention of any men looking for a little illicit no-strings-attached release. His hair was a few inches below his shoulder blades and an intriguing mixture of white blond, gold streaks, and a basic medium blond that made his vivid, blue eyes more striking when he peered at anyone with his hair framing his angular face.

Resting one black booted foot diagonally across his ankle, Ricky folded his arms across his chest so that the zippers on his black leather jacket were facing outward and relaxed his stance a little while he sized up the few men still in the station around him, trying to gage which would make it worth his time to approach them for, say, a light for his cigarette. He’d found that the indirect approach worked best on these dudes since most of them were traveling businessmen who wouldn’t even admit to themselves that they found a sixteen-year-old kid attractive enough to make their cock hard.

“Need a light, kid?” The low, cultured voice was clearly Italian and it snapped Ricky out of his search for prey as quickly as a bucket of ice water being thrown over him would’ve done. “Or do you plan on smoking that thing at all?”

A flame flared just inches from Ricky’s face as the man flipped open an expensive looking silver lighter and struck the flint on it. Raising his gaze from the flame, Ricky met the man’s neutral brown eyes and leaned forward a little to touch the end of his cigarette to the flame a second, inhaling the first draw of the harsh smoke while studying the man’s face. Not the usual for me, he told himself as he watched the man snap the Zippo shut and drop it into the pocket of his dark gray slacks languidly. Better looking than the others and much better dressed.

“Thanks,” he said in a low voice, his eyes moving to the gold chains that were circling the man’s neck and the expensive looking watch on his wrist. This sure was a live one if he could get him interested. Might get enough outta this one to get a room somewhere for the night instead of sacking out on the damn bench here again.

“You new in town, kid?” The man started to lean against the wall beside him but changed his mind after giving it a disgusted look, choosing instead to stay where he was. When Ricky nodded a little, he smiled to reveal even, white teeth that were set off by the olive tone of his skin. “Have you got a place to stay or have you been sleeping here?”

Oh fucking hell, Ricky thought as his stomach turned a little. This wasn’t an ordinary dude looking for a quickie in the bathroom … this guy was looking for more than just a suck off. “I’m doin’ okay,” he responded quickly. “I’ve only been here …” he trailed off when a boy about his own age with dark hair just as long as his came sauntering up to them, curious brown eyes the color of melted chocolate meeting his own.

Carlo’s face softened a little as he turned to give the boy a genuine smile. “Find anything interesting, Snow?” he asked gently. Motioning toward where Ricky was watching them with wary eyes, he added, “I believe I’ve found someone in need of our help.”

Snow’s eyes widened slightly as they shifted to Ricky and he nodded. “Hiya,” he greeted Ricky in a calm tone while looking the older boy up and down critically. “He coming home with us?”

“I don’t know yet,” the man answered with a smile, reaching out to place an arm around the boy’s shoulders. “You’re arrival seems to have struck him speechless, Snow.” Raising his head, he met Ricky’s guarded gaze and smiled a little wider. “You’re welcome to come with us, kid. A bus station isn’t the best place for a boy to be alone and I can assure you nothing will happen to you while you’re under my protection.”

Ricky stared into his eyes a few moments, looking for any signs that he should make a run for it. Upon seeing only sincerity and genuine welcome in the man’s eyes, he shifted his gaze to the dark haired boy. “He lives with you, too?”

Snow answered before Carlo could. “Yeah. I’ve been with Carlo for three years.” He smiled and looked up at the man. “He kept me from being another kid on the streets.”

A part of Ricky wanted to take them up on the offer but another part was arguing that maybe he would be better off on his own since he had heard stories about what can happen to kids picked up off the streets like this. He studied Snow’s face intently, searching for any signs of abuse and finding none. The teen was about as content as he’d ever seen a kid that age and didn’t look to be strung out on any drugs or scared of the man he claimed to have lived with for the past few years.

Sighing softly, Ricky met Carlo’s questioning expression and nodded. “Okay,” he agreed in a low voice. “I’ll go with you but only until I can make it on my own. Okay?”

“It’s a deal.” Carlo held one hand out to him. “I’m Carlo, as you’ve heard, and this is my ward, Tommy, or Snow as most of his friends like to call him.”

Accepting the offered hand, Ricky shook it in as close to a friendly gesture as he could manage. “I’m Ricky.”

This couldn’t be any worse than the treatment he’d gotten from his uncle or any more dangerous than sleeping in the bus station at night, could it?

0o0o0o0o

“So he’s cool?”

Snow looked up from the clothes he was sorting through to stare at Ricky questioningly. “Who? Carlo?”

“Yeah.” Ricky shifted on Snow’s bed, stretching out so his feet dangled over the bottom and rolling over onto his side to prop his cheek on one arm. “He seems nice enough but that ain’t always an indicator.”

Snow held up a shirt and frowned at it before tossing it into the pile he’d set aside for Ricky. “He’s nice as long as you follow the rules and don’t go doing anything that makes him look bad.”

A cold chill ran through Ricky as the words sank in and he rolled over onto his back to stare up at the ceiling of Snow’s bedroom. His new friend had filled him in on what would be expected of him almost as soon as they had gotten to Carlo’s apartment. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t done before and at least he’d get paid for it this time and have a place to stay that was safer than where he had been before. Snow had turned out to be fifteen … a year younger than him, but a very mature fifteen.

He was more laid back than anyone Ricky had ever known before and seemed to just take things as they came without too much distress or worry. He’d been given the task of explaining to Ricky all about Carlo’s business and how things worked around here and he had done so in a matter-of-fact tone, even asking if he had any questions when he’d finished the monologue.

“You can stay in here with Snow for now, Ricky,” Carlo said as he motioned for Ricky to follow the dark haired boy into the bedroom at the end of the hallway. “I’m sure you two will get along just fine together.”

Ricky wandered into the room and moved over to the large window to pull back the heavy drape with one hand and stare down at the city street below. He was still a little leery of the man and boy team but so far everything had gone smoothly. The showplace apartment had been a little intimidating at first and he knew it would take some time to adjust to the change, but at least he wasn’t sleeping on the hard seats at the dirty bus station again.

“Snow …” Carlo’s voice held a tone of command that hadn’t been there before and it caught Ricky’s attention quickly since he’d heard that pitch in his uncle’s voice before the man was about to lose his patience with him for something he’d done wrong. “Explain to him how we operate and show him the ropes.”

Ricky looked back over his shoulder at them, his eyes narrowing a little when Snow nodded obediently.

“He’s your responsibility until he can go out on his own without supervision.”

Snow nodded again and smiled. “He’ll be fine, Carlo. I’ll handle everything.”

Carlo’s gaze shifted from Snow’s eager face to Ricky, his eyes hardening a little. “See that you do, Snow.” Without another word, he’d left the room and shut the door behind him almost silently, leaving Ricky with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“So …” Ricky turned his head to watch Snow folding the clothes he’d chosen for him from his own wardrobe. “When do we practice what you preached?”

“Soon.” Snow laid a pair of neatly folded jeans onto the pile and raised his head, a cautious look in his chocolate eyes. “You know what’s expected of you, doncha? Did I explain it clear enough?”

“Yup.” He shifted his gaze back to the ceiling and folded his arms under his head. “I pick up tricks and suck them off for cash or I go to parties that Carlo sets up. The cash goes to you and then to Carlo and I get my cut at the end of the night. Right?”

“Yeah.” Snow flashed him a smile and slid up onto the bed beside him, flopping back to stare at the ceiling, too. “It’s not that bad, though. There are perks to being one of Carlo’s boys.” He dug one hand into his jeans pocket and came out with a dark brown vial that had a little spoon attached by a gold chain. “We get the best of his products and we have access to places other people only wish they could go.”

Ricky watched as the boy unscrewed the top of the vial and sat up in one fluid motion. “Whatcha got there, Snow?” he asked as he rolled over onto his side and raised his arm to prop his head up. “Is that coke?”

A mischievous glitter was in Snow’s eyes as he grinned at him. “I’m not called Snow for nothing.” He scooped some of the white-yellow powder onto the tiny spoon and held it a few inches from Ricky’s face. “Wanna bump?”

“Why not?” Ricky leaned forward and snorted the offered drug, his eyes widening as the familiar cold rush hit his nasal cavity and spread to his brain. “Whoa … good shit you got there,” he said huskily. He had never had anything quite that pure before and it was an almost immediate euphoric rush that started his mind to racing.

Snow grinned wider and snorted a spoon full for himself before screwing the top back on the vial and shoving it back into his jeans. “Like I said … we get the best of everything. Carlo sees to that.” He lay back on the bed and rubbed at his nose, sniffing softly. “I think you’ll like it here, Ricky.”

“I think so, too,” Ricky agreed quietly, letting his head drop back onto the comforter. Ignoring the sudden running of his nose, he smiled faintly at the ceiling. If this was how Carlo’s boys were treated then maybe he had found a place for himself here. After all, Snow seemed to be happy with the arrangements and seemed well taken care of so it couldn’t be too bad a place to be.