Description
Moonchild – Mychael Black
Arcanum New York 3
Forensic lab tech Dane Sawyer has been watching Keith Mason for quite some time. He wants nothing more than to get the young man off the streets and somewhere safe.
Keith Mason has been homeless for many years, using his body to make just barely enough money to eat. When a stranger offers him a place to stay, Keith hesitantly accepts.
Fate drove them together. Now Dane just needs Keith to see how good they can be.
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EXCERPT:
The tiny bodega he frequented was still open, thank God. He slipped inside and went right for the coolers in back. If he was careful, he could make the twenty last for a couple of days. Settling on a bottle of Coke and a bag of chips, he approached the counter. Another customer was checking out, and Keith stared out the front window until the man left.
“Hey,” Leo, the clerk, said. “Doing okay?”
Keith shrugged and pulled out the crumpled twenty. “I guess.”
Nodding, the clerk rang up the sale. When the total flashed on the display, Keith bit his tongue. A few years ago, he would’ve balked at receiving any sort of handout, but he’d learned to keep his mouth shut whenever Leo chopped a bit off his total when he came in here.
“See you, man,” Leo said.
“Yeah. Take care.”
Keith stepped outside and found a spot a few doors down. It was near some sort of office building, and there weren’t many people milling around. He settled on the sidewalk several feet from the front door and opened his chips. The first salty bite made his stomach clench, but he ate anyway. In between sips of Coke and handfuls of chips, he watched the people walk by. No one looked at him, as if he were invisible. Honestly, he kind of liked it that way. The less he had to speak with someone, the better.
The chips were gone sooner than he would’ve liked. He sipped at his Coke and ignored the nagging pain in his lungs. Another coughing fit hit him, and the shaking followed. He draped his blanket around his shoulders and contemplated going back to the overpass. Moving, though, took more energy and effort than he honestly had. He finished his drink and tugged the blanket tighter. Booted feet appeared out of the corner of his eye and stopped. Sighing, Keith made himself look up. He didn’t have the energy to do anything, but he needed the money.
Words died on his tongue. He’d seen the guy before—several times, in fact—but they’d never actually spoken, nor had the guy ever expressed any desire to pay him. The man crouched, putting him just a little above eye level. Keith stared into bluer-than-blue eyes.
“Come with me?”
Keith narrowed his gaze but didn’t move. “Not free, dude. You want sex, it’ll cost you.”
“You’re not well,” the man said. “Let me help.”
Before Keith could reply, another round of coughing hit. This time, though, he tasted blood.
“Please,” the stranger said. “You’re going to die out here if you don’t take care of that cough.”
“No docs,” Keith managed to gasp out as he fought to catch his breath again. He shook his head but immediately regretted it. His head pounded, and it felt as if every ounce of energy had drained out of his body. The world sort of tilted, but he didn’t feel the impact when his skull should’ve hit pavement.
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