Free Together always by Dallas Schulze Page B

couldn't."
    "Hurt her? Did he beat her?" Mike was trying to feel the way, trying to clarify the jerky picture the boy was painting.
    "No." The flat word was all Trace said, but Mike waited, sensing there was more. After a long moment he started again. "It was the way he looked at her. He shouldn't have looked at her like that. She's just a little girl. I kept her in my room and I heard him go to hers and then he came and stood outside my door. So I kept her with me again and then one night I waited up with a gun."
    He stopped, his eyes focused on something only he could see. Mike waited. "Did you kill him. Trace?" What was he going to do if the boy had killed a man?
    Trace shook his head as if coming out of a trance. "No, but I wanted to. I prayed he'd come through that door. I could have pulled the trigger without a thought. I wanted to

    see him die." He glanced at Mike and the look in his eyes made it clear that he was telling no less than the truth. '*So I took Lily and ran."
    ''What about your mother?" Mike asked gently.
    "She couldn't do anything," Trace said in a flat way that made it impossible to argue. "She wanted to. I know she wanted to but she just didn't have the strength. You can't blame a person for that, can you? She did the best she could." His voice cracked with emotion and Mike reached out hesitantly, uncertain if he had the right to offer comfort but knowing he had to try.
    "You took on a lot of responsibility."
    * 'There wasn' t anyone else.''
    Mike set his hand on the boy's arm, feeling the rigid muscles, the tension that locked them tight. "I'm sure your mother did the best she could, son. Just as you did the best you could."
    It might have been the word son. It might have been the tone of his voice. Or it might have been that Trace had simply had as much as he could handle. He'd been strong for so long. He couldn't remember a time when he'd been able to lean on someone else completely. All his life he'd been protecting someone, first his mother and then Lily. He could feel himself dissolving inside and he knew he should get up and leave before he made a fool of himself. But something held him where he was, something even stronger than pride. Need. He needed, desperately, to know that he wasn't alone anymore.
    "I—" His voice cracked and he fought to get it under control, setting down the mug and wiping his fingers on his jeans. "I should get to bed." His voice sounded strange, scratchy and hoarse.
    Mike's hand tightened on his arm, a gentle pressure that seemed to offer something Trace couldn't even define.

    *'You know, it's not a bad thing to need other people, son. Everybody needs a little help now and again.**
    There it was again. Son. No one had ever called him that. Son. He wished suddenly, quite desperately, that he was this man's son. That he had a right to that title. He shook his head, aware of a fierce burning in his throat.
    "I don't—I can't—" He couldn't get the words out. He looked up, meeting Mike's eyes, and the last of the long-held barriers collapsed. There was compassion in the older man's expression, but there was also something else he was afraid to put a name to. Love?
    **I— " Mike's image wavered in front of him. Trace drew a deep breath, fighting for control, but Mike had already seen the moisture in the boy's eyes and he wasn't going to let him throw up those barriers again. His hand settled gently on Trace's shoulder and he felt the shudder that ran through the lanky body in the instant before that long-held control crumpled and his breath exploded on a sob.
    Mike held him, his arms strong around Trace's shaking body. His own face was tight and hard, thinking of what the boy had gone through in his short life. Too much responsibility much too soon. His stepfather should have been shot.
    Trace drew a deep breath, his shoulders stiffening as he sat up. He wiped his eyes self-consciously, his face flushed, his expression uneasy.
    **rm sorry. I don't know what happened," he