A Younger Man Read Online Free

“You put me right in the goddamn middle of it when you assaulted this kid.”
    “He’s not a kid. He hasn’t paid his rent and he’s been evicted because of it.” Movement on the ground behind Noah had the bigger guy glancing down at his victim. Quickly, the bigger man backed up to protect the apartment door again. “He has no right to be here. I’m just following the owner’s orders.”
    With a grunt, the younger man got to his feet and stepped up to stand at Noah’s side. As he brushed pieces of the sidewalk off his scraped-up arm, the pings and dings of pebbles hitting the concrete filled the air like the loudest rainstorm on a tin roof. “I just want the clothes, Terrell.” A husky scratch textured the young man’s voice, making Noah think he’d shed a lot of tears recently. In immediate response, beyond his control, Noah’s gut twisted. “Let me get inside and bag up the clothes. You can keep everything else. Sell it to get the owner some of the money back—whatever you want.”
    The burly guy—Terrell, the kid had called him—looked at the younger man and suddenly blanched. “I’m just doing what I was told.” The rancor seeped from Terrell’s tone, and the fight left his big frame. “I’m sorry I shoved you, Zane, I really am, but I gotta do my job.”
    Taking the forcefulness out of his voice too, Noah asked Terrell, “Why don’t you give the owner a call to see if he or she will reconsider letting this guy get his clothes? I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”
    Zane’s voice cracked again. “Please, Terrell.” His eyes, the fucking purest blue Noah had ever seen, were awash with wetness. “Let me get our clothes.”
    Terrell mixed a curse with a sigh and then muttered, “I’ll be right back.”
    Once Terrell entered the building, Noah exhaled and scratched his hands through his hair. He turned to the young man still standing on the street with him—Zane. “I’m sure this Terrell guy will get permission for you to get your clothes; everything will work out okay.”
    As if a geyser had exploded, Zane suddenly burst with animated life. “No it won’t!” Clear panic streaked through his voice. “You don’t know the owner; he’s a total asshole. We’ve been out for two days now and our stuff is probably already gone.” The guy ranted, paced, and tunneled his dark hair into total disarray. “My brother and sister won’t have any fresh clothes for school, and I’ll run out of money for the motel by tomorrow.” He swung his head to look up at Noah, and wildness ruled his gaze. “And if I don’t have an address then nobody will hire me, and then I’ll be homeless, and I won’t be able to pay for food, or a place to live, or anything.”
    “Whoa. Whoa. Okay.” Noah intercepted Zane on his trek and guided the young man to his truck. “Breathe, man. Take a couple of breaths or you’re going to hyperventilate and pass out.” After opening the passenger side door, Noah eased the guy onto the edge of the seat and pushed his head down between his legs. “There you go. Breathe.” He squatted on the sidewalk in front of the kid and squeezed his shoulder in encouragement. “Give yourself a minute, and then start over.”
    In silence, Noah watched as this young man’s frame lifted and fell with each breath he took, for a full minute, before things seemed to return to normal.
    Zane finally lifted his gaze, and this time it was almost steady. “I’m sorry.” He scrubbed his face, and the gesture exaggerated the paleness of his lips and the dark circles under his eyes. “I know I must look like one of those nut-jobs who rant and rave out in public, who people cross the street to avoid.”
    “No.” Noah looked, stared, couldn’t seem to break away. A vicious, yet somehow tender tightness clutched his chest. Shit. He took a breath himself. “You look like someone who’s scared.”
    For a moment Zane’s entire body went tense. Then the fight appeared to drain out of