Royally Broken by Elle Boon Page 0,13

up into the passenger seat.

“Where you heading? You just graduate high school or something?” The truck driver shifted into gear as he spoke.

Silas told him the next town over after nodding affirmative about graduating. Hell, he was in his graduation gown still.

“Good for you. Never did graduate myself. Got my GED though.”

He and the other man sat in silence for a few, then he let the guy talk. Obviously being a big rig driver, he got a little lonely or some shit. Silas didn’t mind, since it allowed him to keep his trap closed.

“Well, kid, it was good having someone to shoot the shit with. You got business in town?” he asked, pulling off to the side of the road just outside by the sign welcoming visitors.

“Yeah, starting a new life.” No need to tell him his life story.

“Have a good one and stay outta trouble.”

If the man only knew how much Silas wished his life was that easy. He shoved open the door, thanking him for the lift. Although he’d be several hours early, he didn’t want to waste time wandering around town. Hell, he didn’t even know what he could do with no money, no friends, nothing. Keeping his head down, he put one foot in front of the other, taking the quickest route to the office he’d been to once before. The man had come to his school to talk to his class about enlisting. Silas had immediately known he was going to do it. Figuring out how to get to the place for his physical had been a little harder, but again, he was determined. Like today, he seemed to have someone looking over his shoulder. The recruiter had been his savior that time, offering to give him a lift for the exam and his physical. Whatever his motives, Silas didn’t care as long as he’d get out of Lionsville for good.

A familiar sound had him looking up, his heart beating like he’d been running a race.

The Langley’s pickup rumbled by. Blaine wasn’t paying any attention as he chugged a bottle of whiskey in a brown paper bag. More than likely, he was three-sheets to the wind already, thankfully.

He kept his head down, heading toward the recruiters office. He’d already taken the test, signed the papers, and was shipping out today. It felt good to have a plan, a place to go. The image of Blaire lying in the dirt bleeding made him stumble, but then he thought of all the times they’d left him broken and bleeding, easily making the choice to continue moving forward. They had a phone and each other. He’d had no one, not even the promise of help, ever. Silas had only ever had himself and the lure of who his birth parents were. He should’ve known the old bitch was lying. Fuck it, he didn’t need to know where he’d come from. No, scratch that. He came from the garbage, but he wasn’t trash. From this moment on, Silas was dead. Opening the door with the word NAVY in large letters on the window, he felt eyes on the back of his head. He ignored them like they’d ignored him his entire life. The man behind the desk stood up, walking around the wood thing with his hand held out.

“Silas, it’s good to see you. You ready?”

“Yeah. Yeah I am.”

He looked Silas up and down, clearly seeing he still had his blue graduation gown on. “Where’s your bag? How did you get here?”

“Figured I wouldn’t be needing anything for a while,” Silas said. Truth was, he didn’t want to take any of his shit with him. Besides, the Navy would be supplying him with what he’d need. When he’d come for his physical and tests, he’d gotten a ride from the man before him. Silas didn’t kid himself; they both knew he didn’t have anyone who gave a shit about what happened to him.

“That’s true. Anyone seeing you off?”

Silas shook his head. “Nah, I already said goodbye.”

“Well, let’s get going then.”

He looked at the cap he still held like it meant something. Walking over to the trash can, he tossed the blue square into it, shrugged out of the silk gown, and balled it up and adding it to the trash as well. If he’d had a lighter, he’d have lit the shit up and watched it burn. The gold cord around his neck showed he’d graduated with honors. He tossed that in too, not needing it as a reminder.

“Son,