Dark trees blur together as I keep on running, turning from one desolate alley to another. Occasionally, I notice people. Some of them stare at me, others step back into the shadows, even less willing to be seen than I am to see them. Whoever comes here after dark knows what they're looking for. What am I looking for?

Raven. I've got to find Raven and get out of here.

Finally, I stop by a small grey building with a restroom sign on its wall. Ladies to the right, gentlemen to the left. Even without the sign, the smell in unmistakable. I lean with one hand on the brick wall and try to catch my breath.

I've lost him. I should just go home and hope he comes back. If he doesn't...well, not that I care about him, but Catherine could lose her fostering license if something happened to him while in her care, and helping children means so much to her.

Damn.

There's voices behind the wall, and then a quiet laughter. I remove my hand and step back into the shadows. Seconds later, a man walks out of the restroom door, and I recognize the egg-headed guy in the long coat. He stops for a moment by the entrance, looks around, then sticks his hands into his pockets and walks away.

Then come more footsteps, and the familiar figure in the hoodie and black jeans appears. He looks around, too, then turns and starts walking in the direction opposite to that of the man.

I jump out of my hiding place. In three leaps, I catch up with him, grab him by the sleeve and spin him around. Then, I pull his hood down.

It's Raven all right. He gasps in shock and tries to wrestle out of my grip. First, his made up eyes stare at me with sheer horror, but then he squints in recognition.

"Jamie?"

"James," I say.

He makes another attempt to free his sleeve from my fingers. I let go and grab him by the neck of his hoodie instead. I push him back, slamming him against the trunk of the closest tree, holding him pinned to it.

"What are you doing here?" I hiss into his face, and then I stop, sniffing. There's a smell about him. A slight, but recognizable smell of rubber that brings back the memories of Sandra. Of the times when were dating. Of the times when she would give me blow jobs with condoms, and afterwards, her breath would smell like this.

"Are you about to kiss me?" he says.

I become aware that my face is lingering just inches from his. I push him again, so that the back of his head hits the tree trunk. Then, I slap him across the face. The slap was meant to be a punch, but I forced my fingers to open at the last moment. Breaking his nose or giving him a black eye isn't my goal.

"Ouch!" He bends, then straightens up and looks at me furiously, his hand pressed to his cheek. "What...the hell?"

"How much are you charging them?"

He stares at me. "Whom? For what?"

"The pervs you're meeting here. You tell me for what."

"Oh, so you want to hear the price list?" The anger is his gaze is being quickly replaced by defiance. "How is that your business?" He pushes me away, but I catch him and slam him against the tree again. Then, I slip my hands into the pockets of his hoodie, and the right one comes out with a few banknotes. I let them drop to the ground.

"What's wrong with you?" He pushes me away and then gets down on his knees, feeling around, looking for the money in the dark.

"This is dirty money," I say.

"Sure, now that you've dropped them," he mutters, picking the banknotes one by one and putting them together.

"Catherine is providing you with home and food and everything. You don't need...this."

"You don't know what I need."

"She'll be in trouble if this comes out."

"Wow." He looks up. "Scares the shit out of me."

"You'll be in trouble, too."

He gets up to his feet and frowns at me. "For what? For taking a walk in the park to get some fresh air?"

"They'll send you to a therapeutic home. Sounds like not too fun a place. Violent children, borderline sex offenders. You know what they could to a cute kid like you?"

"Nothing that hasn't been done before," he snaps.

"Fine." I step back and raise my hands. "I'll just go and tell Catherine what you're doing, and she'll ship you off to one of those places."

I'm beginning to turn away when he says, "Wait."

I look back at him.

He stares at me. "Don't tell her."

"So you're not too eager to go here, after all?"

He just keeps staring, and I wish there was more light here so that I could read his expression better.

"Please," he says.

Some manners at last.

"Fine." I roll my eyes. "But you go back home and behave yourself, you hear me? You act polite and do the dishes and give Catherine no reason to be upset. This is the first and the last time I ever cover up for you, understood?"

Slowly, he nods.

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