Free The Guy With the Suitcase (Once Upon a Guy #1) by Chris Ethan Page B

how a parent can disown their child like they’re nothing,” Pierce said and stopped talking, the silence making Rafe’s attention drift back to his ears.
    He seemed to have done a one-eighty and brought the conversation to the reason for his homelessness. Rafe nodded in agreement to his last statement but tried to find the words to follow up on that.
    “How did you end up out here?” Pierce asked him and Rafe mentally slapped himself for not coming up with a different subject to lighten their little rendezvous again.
    He scratched his head, singing lazily trying to come up with his response. “I…I ran,” he found himself mumbling before he controlled his mouth.
    “Huh?” Pierce grimaced, his face changing from a tender smile to a deep frown.
    “I—I ran. I couldn’t take it any longer. I…I felt lonely in there. Felt like I was doing something wrong, twenty-four seven. I mean, sure, there was my mamá , who loves me, but…” he babbled before being abruptly interrupted by Pierce’s groan.
    “Wait a sec. You left your house because you felt lonely? You chose to be homeless because they were just…being parents?” he growled, heat visible in his face.
    “I didn’t—,” Rafe tried to defend himself, but wasn’t allowed. Pierce quickened his step, clearly frustrated, and trying to bring an end to their little walk. “Pierce, wait!”
    He chased after him, navigating through people, all giving him dirty looks at his attempt. The streets were now excruciatingly busy. Lunch break was on and everyone was marching to their hotspot with clear determination.
    Rafe’s vision blurred. His head was moving too fast and his breath was shortening. His agitation was growing, as were its effects on him. Why was Pierce being so hard on him? He hadn’t even let him explain.
    He lost his footing and came crashing down on the sidewalk. He called Pierce’s name one more time and people circled around him, untouched by the human disturbance. He steadied himself with two hands, focusing his eyes on the sidewalk cracks instead of the dizzying hectic amount of people surrounding him.
    “Are you okay?” he saw a pair of jeans kneeling down to reveal Pierce, with a concerned look on his face. That dude needed to sort out his emotional caliber.
    Rafe whispered a no and rubbed his eyes, trying to clear his vision. “I have some water in my bag,” he said, meaning to take it out of his rucksack, but Pierce was already pulling the strings of it and digging his hand inside to scavenge for the water bottle.
    He passed the bottle to Rafe, and he took regenerating sips, closing his eyes as he did. When he opened them again, he felt a push on his back and turned his head to see Pierce sitting next to him, holding bills in his hands and waving them at Rafe.
    “I thought you were fucking homeless,” he growled.
    “I am,” Rafe murmured.
    “I thought you had no fucking money. What the fuck is wrong with you, man? You leave home to live on the streets with money in your bag? Are you a psycho or something?” Pierce’s voice was becoming louder, attracting some disapproving looks from passersby.
    “It…it’s not like that,” Rafe tried to find the energy to explain, to say more, but he couldn’t.  
    Not that he was given a chance. Pierce pushed himself up and stood tall above the still-floored Rafe.
    “I’m taking these for the fucking ice cream I just bought you. Man, I can’t believe I spent my money to put you in a fucking room,” he huffed and walked away.
    Rafe panted and looked around him trying to regain his strength and take in what had happened. That bruto didn’t even give him a chance to explain. He just left Rafe at the mercy of himself.

Pierce pushed the door of Les Fourches open, storing away his frustration with it. He had done his best to let Rafe and his sickening existence out of his mind, but the more he thought about it, the angrier he got.
    He let it all slide away, however, as he was greeted by