Shaun had stopped shaking, but his heart wouldn’t calm down.
The man sitting beside him in the driver’s seat glanced at him every now and then. Scars marred the right side of his jaw, and he looked kind of scary. But he had saved Shaun.
“Why are you going home, kid?”
The question surprised him. The man was still looking at the road.
“First of all, you don’t look much older than me. Second of all, what is that supposed to mean? I’m not staying in freakin’ Maine with a guy I don’t know.”
“We both know no one misses an abused kid.”
Shaun looked away. It was true. They had only noticed he’d gone missing after two days. And even then, a complete stranger was the person who saved him.
“Oh yeah, they had this in the back of the car, by the way,” the stranger said, handing him a cap.
It was Shaun’s old NJROTC cap. He put it on, pulling his knees to his chest. “Thank you.”
And, like every other time Shaun had thanked him, the guy said nothing.
“What’s your name?”
“None of your business.”
“We’re going to be together for two days. I wanna know what to call you.”
“You don’t need to call me anything.”
“Whatever.”
After a few minutes, Shaun turned on the radio. The man sighed and glared, but he didn’t turn it off.
It was a rock station, and a song called “Young Wicked” was playing.
Shaun leaned back. “I’ll just call you that, then,” he said as the man started bobbing his head to the beat.
“What? Why?”
“You seem to like the song.”
“Not my favorite by the band.”
“Then what is?”
“I’m not telling you. You’ll just make another stupid nickname.”
Shaun laughed. Then he leaned back again and frowned. He was finally starting to process what had happened, and he didn’t want to think about it.
So he turned to Young Wicked. “What’re those, like, push-tab thingies you keep pressing on the steering wheel? I’ve never seen those on a car before.”
He sighed. “It’s ‘cause of my legs. I get really weird, random muscle spasms when I’m stressed, which I always am, so I have to brake and gas with my hands. Like on a four-wheeler.”
“Oh, okay. That’s cool.”
Young Wicked just glanced at him again, then glued his eyes back to the road. He adjusted his glasses.
“We’ll need to stop for gas soon, and I need a coffee. Do you need anything?”
“Uh, no. Not that I know of.”
“‘Kay. I’ll just get you some water or something. I’d suggest trying to sleep. It’ll be a long night otherwise.”
“…Okay.”
They came to a red light and Shaun climbed into the back seat. He laid down, trying to ignore the thoughts becoming tumultuous in his head.
But he was so physically and emotionally exhausted that he fell asleep fast.
*
The car pulled to the side of the road, the driver cursing loudly. Shaun felt a kick to his side, and he cried out. Tears, mucus, and sweat were making his face gross. Which was a weird thing to think about considering the circumstances.
A low voice whispered, “Keep quiet or I’ll slit your throat, got it?”
Shaun flinched, and nodded. He heard a door open, and rain pattering on the ground outside.
He heard a voice, husky and serious.
“I know what you’re doing.”
“What?”
“Let the kid go.”
There was a moment of silence, then Shaun heard blows being traded outside. Something hit the ground and the side door of the car opened. Shaun flinched, but it wasn’t his kidnapper. It was a tall, lean man with circular glasses. He was breathing hard, but he didn’t stop to catch his breath.
He lifted Shaun out of the car.
“Hi. Can you walk?”
“Y-y-yeah. Who are you?” Shaun was wary of this guy. He was a complete stranger, and was holding him rather close.
“I saw the Amber Alert and decided to help. I didn’t see any police in the area so I took matters into my own hands.”
“…Okay.”
The man walked weird, but Shaun didn’t think much of it. He was saved.
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