that met Mark’s were hardened flint. “Here’s the deal. Willie’s money isn’t going to save you again, you’ve been arrested too many times. Let’s face it, you’re just not very good at your job.”
An embarrassed flush swept up Mark’s cheeks at the truth of those words. Was it a compliment or an insult to be considered a terrible whore?
“Look at you,” Sumner continued, waving a hand toward Mark. “You say a blessing before you eat. Most hookers I’ve met don’t bless their food. And I can’t count the number of times you’ve called me ‘sir.’ Kid, I’ve been around enough rent boys in my time to know that you just don’t belong here.”
Though Mark secretly agreed, he remained quiet, waiting to see where the conversation would lead. A business card fell onto the table and Sumner pushed it over beside the brown bag. Mark expected it to be for Social Services or some charity that couldn’t actually do much. They could get him off the streets all right, they just couldn’t save him from Willie. The plain white card listed a number but no name.
“Do you have a home?”
Mark shook his head without looking up, remembering a time when he could have said “yes.”
The sergeant plopped down into the opposite chair, causing Mark to look up. The steely glint in his eyes softened. “Wanna tell me about it?”
“Nothing to tell,” Mark said, polishing off the last of his meal and washing it down with a mouthful of tea, the contents of the cup.
“You’re smart, you’re polite, and you pray. Someone brought you up right.” Those penetrating eyes stared right through him. “You’re not a street kid or a throwaway. Somewhere you have a family.”
Mark didn’t know why he was telling a stranger his life’s story, maybe he was just tired of keeping it to himself. Ignoring the pain that lodged in his chest at the thought of the folks back home, he answered honestly, “Yes, I have a family, or I did until my dad kicked me out and told me I wasn’t welcome there anymore.” Even after all this time, a knife twisted in his gut from recalling that horrible night. The one person he’d depended on and believed could do no wrong had told him to get out and never come back.
Nothing was said for a long moment. Finally, the officer broke the uncomfortable silence. “He found out you were gay, didn’t he?”
No longer able to bear the scrutiny, Mark dropped his gaze to the table, mumbling, “Yes, sir.” The sound of a weary sigh drew his eyes back up.
“You wouldn’t believe how many guys like you I talk to.” Sumner shook his head. For a big, tough cop, someone who Mark had been taught to fear, he didn’t judge or tease like some officers did. No, he appeared resigned. And sad. “You also wouldn’t believe how many desperate parents call wanting help finding their kids after a few hasty words sent them running.”
Mark could well imagine. He’d been in the business long enough to know that his situation was far from unique.
The next question caught him off guard. “If you could, would you go home?”
The answer required no thought at all. “In a heartbeat.” More quietly he added, “If Dad would let me.”
Sumner reached over and tapped the business card with a fingertip. “You get one phone call. If you call your pimp, next time we pick you up you’re ours. You wanna go home? Dial that number. Make the right choice and you’re not my problem anymore. But just so we’re perfectly clear: Willie’s money won’t save you next time.”
Given a choice between home and Willie, well, it was no choice. Picking up the card, Mark stared at it, afraid to get his hopes up. “Whose number is this?”
“A bar owner by the name of Noah Everett. He’s not with Social Services, but if you let him help you, you won’t be the first he’s put back on the right track.”
Mark had heard that name before, about how The Angel could get him off the streets. Until now he’d been too afraid of his pimp to even consider that option. Shit! His pimp! He swallowed hard, a vision of what would happen if Willie caught him trying to escape forming in his mind. It wasn’t pretty. “You know I’m not free-lance,” he said. “What about my, er… employer?” The last thing he needed was a vengeful pimp tracking him down.
“Leave that to us.” Sumner radiated confidence,