Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 110671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Gray had gone to college with people he affectionately called tech nerds; Willow went so far beyond that term, it wasn’t even funny. He barely understood half of what she was talking about. But, the most important thing, she’d agreed to “put feelers out” and get him in touch with someone who knew Philadelphia.
The text he’d been waiting for arrived just as he drove past Wilson. North Carolina was about as exciting as South, but he had to stop soon. He’d been on the road for fourteen hours, and a headache was setting in.
Traffic had just eased up on the interstate. Most people were at home having dinner by now.
Gray drove past an RV before he returned to the right lane where he could glance at his message.
Sorry for the delay. I spoke to too many people before I remembered I have a local friend who might be able to help. I vouch for him and gave him your number. You might know him. Dominic Cleary. He will call you soon.
Gray knew of Dominic. He worked at a youth center in Camas, the district with the only other hockey team in town. Gray had switched to the Camas Ravens back when he’d tried to get away from Craig, who coached Gray’s former team. In his old life, Gray hadn’t done much more than pine for the straight-gone-closeted-gay-but-married hockey coach. Gray had been so sure of his feelings; he’d firmly believed he was in love with Craig. Now, everything had changed.
It was laughable. In a matter of months, Gray had gone from thinking he was an adult to…whatever he was now. Either way, his old problems belonged to a fucking kid who didn’t exist anymore.
Gray blew out a breath and spied the sign of a Marriott hotel in the distance. The post shot up in the nothingness along with signs for a gas station and a Waffle House.
As he took the next exit, he rolled up the window and switched on the heat. The farther north he drove, the colder it got. Tomorrow, he would stop somewhere and buy a jacket, ’cause it was, after all, the dead of winter. Philadelphia in January would sting.
Or was it February yet? No, it couldn’t be. Fucking hell, Gray had really lost touch with reality.
February… Abel had a birthday coming up.
Gray was usually all over that. He used to love taking care of his friends and family. Now he was running away from them.
He had no choice, though. He had to do this, and he had to do it alone.
There were two people he tried not to think about too much—Mom and Darius. As long as Gray steered clear of them, he just might survive this escape.
When he reached Marriott’s roadside hotel for budget travelers, he pulled into the parking lot and dug out his wallet. Mom and Aiden had given him a credit card since Gray’s old cards had been frozen. “Before we get you up and running again,” Aiden had said, followed by, “Don’t be afraid to use it.”
Gray had used it to rent the truck so far.
Grabbing his bag—
He stopped when his phone rang. Washington area code. A number that didn’t already exist in his phone, so that had to mean…
“Gray,” he answered.
There was a throat clearing on the other end. “Hey, I’m a friend of Willow’s. Dominic.”
Gray let go of his bag and got comfortable again. “Hi. Thank you for calling.”
“No problem. She told me you wanna find someone in Philly?”
Gray nodded to himself, registering Dominic’s East Coast accent. “Yes. I don’t know how much else she told you…”
“I know who you are.” Dominic’s tone changed slightly. It became less business. “We’re all glad you made it back. The Quinns are great people. You’re in good hands with them.”
A little too good. It was one of the reasons Gray had left Darius behind.
“Yeah, they’ve been amazing to me,” Gray said distractedly. “When I was—” He stopped himself. He didn’t wanna go there. “I lost someone,” he went with. “Before he died, he asked me to find his little brother.”
“I understand,” Dominic replied. “In Philly, I assume?”
“Yeah. And the thing is, all I have to go on is a name and his age.” Gray did his best to push the image of Jonas out of his head. Their final few seconds together had been sheer purgatory. “My friend and his brother didn’t have a family, and the kid—he’s eight—has been raised to stay away from the authorities. He’s not a stranger to the streets.”
“Got it.” Dominic went quiet for a beat. “I’mma be honest wit’chu, Gray. I hesitate because Philly can be fucking rough. I guess I wanna make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into—’cause while I definitely want you to help this kid, I don’t want you to get hurt even more.”