Free Sin City Uniform 02 - Copping an Attitude by Morticia Knight Page B

he couldn’t remember him saying much of anything about his family at all.
    “Your brother?”
    “Yeah.” Beau lowered his eyes and fiddled with the paper handle of the disposable coffee cup. “I went into the service to get away from them when I was eighteen. All I could think about when I was a teenager was getting the hell out of there. I couldn’t fucking wait. Unfortunately, all I was really thinking about was me. Nicholas was twelve when I left. He was much more outspoken than I was, much more fun loving.” Beau sipped his drink then met Parker’s gaze again. “I came to visit at Christmas when Nicholas would’ve been fifteen. He’d already been gone for about three months by then. They had no idea where he’d gone and they said it was for the best, that he was ‘one of those’.”
    “Oh Jesus, Beau. That’s awful. But he was a minor. Couldn’t they have gotten in trouble for that?”
    “Oh sure. But they didn’t kick him out, he ran away because of how vicious I’m sure they’d been to him. They’d done their duty by reporting him as a runaway, but that was a joke. There’re so many runaways each year, the police don’t have the resources to hunt them all down—you know all about that.”
    Parker grimaced. He did know.
    “They never put any effort into helping him. When I told them I was going to search for him they said he wasn’t worth my time or effort, that it was better for the family if he wasn’t around anymore. That was when I told them that I was ‘one of them’ too and that they could go fuck themselves. I haven’t seen or spoken to them since.” He chuckled with no humor. “And they haven’t put any more effort into finding me than they did Nicholas.”
    “So what happened to him?”
    Beau’s forehead wrinkled and he dropped his gaze again. “He was killed on the streets. Another homeless guy attacked him over a twenty-dollar bill that he claimed was his.” Beau pressed his lips together then wiped his hand across his mouth. After a moment, he sat back then looked up at Parker. “If you’re interested in helping Slade at all, I’ll do whatever I can to support that, other than getting directly involved. I only ask that you take his fragile emotional state into mind. Don’t give him hope where there is none. Give him whatever you’re capable of giving. I’ll always regret leaving Nicholas behind.”
    Beau’s story crushed Parker. “Of course, Beau. I’ll do whatever I can.”
    “Okay, that’s all I needed to hear. Now. About the girl with the short blue hair?”
     
    * * * *
     
    He’d never been a drug user, but, man, whatever was going on with him had to be some heavy shit. He was in his body but the edges of his skin seemed fluid. There was also the sensation that he was lounging on a billowy cloud. Trying to open his eyes, he was met with resistance from his right one. He could barely move it at all. It was like trying to open a door that had a bunch of clothes blocking it on the other side. His mom used to get so mad at him when he wouldn’t pick up after himself and she could barely get into his room.
    At the thought of his mom he tensed up and realized that there were things hooked into his arms and hand. He heard beeps and a light snore. When he turned his head he spotted someone in a chair near…
    I’m in a hospital bed.
    On a loud wail he recalled bits of what had happened to him. He could still feel their blows raining down on his body—over and over until each harsh punch or kick melded with the other, the agony combining into one large hurt.
    “Slade! Shh, wake up, honey, it’s Parker. You’re safe, hold still. You’ll hurt yourself more.”
    It can’t be him. Why is he here?
    Parker hovered over him, his brow creased with worry. Words drifted back to him from right after the attack.
    ‘I’ll see you later at the hospital… Promise you’ll fight to hang on.’
    “Sir, please.”
    Parker’s handsome face was replaced by an older woman