Chase lay in the ditch, listening to the vehicles drive past. His mind was not on them but on his pitiable state. He finally found a place where he belonged; everything was going perfectly. How did it go wrong? All that was left was for Aurora and Logan to adopt him. Now he was back on the streets with no idea where to go or what to do when he got there.
The boy's thoughts drifted to when he first ran away, he only wanted to get away from his mother and her boyfriend. He left the city he had lived in for half his life without a plan. Luckily, in the next city, he got a ride to this one from a talkative Latino on his way home from a business trip. The man talked nonstop about his daughter when Chase told him he was on his way to visit his father. The man had dropped him off at the mall. Without a question about where and when his father would pick him up.
People like that were few. The boy knew too well. Most people either didn't care to help or were too invested to stop prying. That guy was one in a million; he'd be lucky to find someone else who'd help him like that again.
Chase sighed. First, he would need a place to sleep for the night. He waited for the last vehicle in the line to drive past, then he got out of the ditch.
The boy walked along the lonesome road, kicking at pebbles in the lit spots. He didn't have his game to pass the time anymore. Where in this city, beside the mall, could he hideout until he decided where to go?
Leroy's Hillside Mall!
The neighbourhood around that place looked like a ghost town. Apart from the old people, there were probably the usual thugs and gangs. Probably some gang unaffiliated with the bigger ones or Michael wouldn't have brought them through there.
With his destination in mind, Chase straightened his back, hoisted his bag, and stepped with determination.
The boy walked for twenty minutes. And although he had picked up his pace, he still had a good way to walk before he got to the bridge. Hunger began to beat at him, but he made up his mind that he would eat when he got to the bridge turn off.
As his mind wondered, Chase became aware of the pain in his feet; his hands were also sweaty and tired from holding his skateboard. Perhaps he had gotten soft after living comfortably. Three meals a day plus snacks, a warm bed and a permanent roof over his head, cleaning staff, a chef, a driver, and a doctor—he'd lived like a king for the last three weeks.
Garbage will always be garbage.
She was right. Nothing good was going to happen to him. He was just another unwanted, fatherless bastard on the streets. Life only had one path for him; he'd have to walk it whether he wanted to or not.
You will always be our son.
Lies. They'd fight for a villa, but they wouldn't fight to keep him. They had dropped him off on the side of the road like a bag of trash. Aurora had said it herself: What parent would let go of their child?
Maybe she didn't care about him as much as he thought. She pretended to care about Samantha's mother. How did her eyes look at him when he wasn't looking at her? Did she really care about Samantha? Why did he trust her?! He should have paid attention! The invitation was probably an act to get rid of him.
Chase snorted. The ring's probably not what she said either.
He reached under his coat and shirt and pulled the ring out. Logan had tied a string to it so he could wear it around his neck. It would be safer there than keeping it in his bag. Chase stopped under a light and looked at the ring. He didn't know what it was worth, but it did look expensive.
Will you trust me?
He got played. He trusted her because he thought he could. She was rich, pretty, and nice. If she were one of those women on the streets, he wouldn't have believed her. He would have been suspicious if she was one of those good family moms'. But she was rich. Was that why he thought she was different? Rich people always looked at him like he was filth in their way. She didn't.
"I'm an idiot."
Chase fell on all fours and laughed uncontrollably. He felt a pop in his head, and he laughed even harder, not knowing what he found so hilarious, but he couldn't stop laughing. Tears also ran down his face.
Was he happy or sad?
He didn't know why he was laughing and crying so hard. There was a pain in his chest. A slow, gripping pain that gradually spread. It felt like his chest was being crushed as the world around him grew quiet.
Why was he alive? What was the point of living?
A sturdy blow to his back shook the boy physically and mentally.
"Breathe!"
Chase obeyed instinctively. A rush of cool air flooded his nostrils and raced to his lungs, reviving him. His lungs drank voraciously of the fresh air, and the pain in his chest dissipated while his hearing came back. For the first time since he stopped to look at the ring, he could see clearly again.
"Have you gone batshit crazy? Crawlin' around on the side of the road, laughin' and cryin'."
Chase looked up at the man talking to him. Jerry. He wasn't near the mall or Hunters View. What was Jerry doing here?
"You look like shit kid. Let me guess you're a runaway."
Chase looked at the old man, stupefied.
"Don't tell me you're on drugs too. Come on, get in the truck."
Chase regarded the old man carefully. Jerry didn't recognise him. The boy pulled his cap down over his face.
"I'm not on drugs, old man."
"Ha! At least you don't sound as stupid as you look."
Jerry didn't make any small talk; he only asked if Chase was a runaway, which the boy confirmed. The old man simply nodded and offered the boy a place to stay for the night.
"Try and steal anything from me; I'll have your ass in jail."
Jerry's harsh attitude was refreshing to Chase. "Your junk's not worth anything." The boy retorted.
"Shitty brat." Jerry murmured.
ns 15.158.61.6da2
