Bones: Broken Bones MC Read Online Free Page B

long time before I would be up and moving on my own.
     
    We were huddled at the foot of an overpass. A clothesline strung up around us held thick sleeping bags to block out the wind. The little fire next to me burned on balled up trash and aluminum cans. It was a shitty place to be, but still an improvement over being exposed to the snow in the alleyway. It wasn’t like I had a choice. Wherever Slim wanted me to go, I would go. I couldn’t possibly fight back.
     
    “So who are you?” I asked after a while. The wind whistled on the other side of the clothesline and cars thundered past us overhead. Every now and then the screech of a horn and raised voices would puncture the drone of traffic.
     
    “Me?” asked Slim. “I’m a supplier for the chop shop.”
     
    I blinked in confusion. “A what?”
     
    Slim laughed. “I boost cars, little man. And then I sell ’em to whoever will pay for ’em.”
     
    I scowled. “You’re a thief.”
     
    He huffed like he was offended. “I’m Robin Hood, man! Steal from the rich and give to the poor. I just happen to be the poor in this here situation.” He grinned at me.
     
    I wanted to hate him, but I couldn’t. How was I supposed to judge the man who’d saved my life? He did what he needed to do to get by. At least he had shelter, if that was what you could call this makeshift tent.
     
    “As soon as I can, I’m getting out of here,” I informed him.
     
    Slim slapped a knee and laughed at the top of his lungs. “Oh, is that so, little man?”
     
    “Yeah,” I shot back. “And stop calling me little man. I’m not little.”
     
    “You sure is little! How old is you, anyway?”
     
    “Fifteen,” I lied.
     
    “My ass,” Slim snorted. “You’re fifteen like I’m a millionaire. You ain’t a day over eight, is that right?”
     
    I hesitated, then nodded angrily.
     
    His face sobered. “That’s awfully young to be out here,” he said.
     
    “I’m a man.”
     
    He eyed me, head tilted to the side. “The funny thing is, little man, I believe that you just might be. Age don’t make a man now, does it? No, I don’t suppose it does.” The air was warm and silent as he looked at me. “What makes a man is fighting through pain. Taking what he wants even when he’s hurtin’. Seems to me like you’re doin’ an awful lot of that already.” He stood up and walked over to me. Hunching down, he tucked the blankets tight around my damaged body. “I guess what I’m sayin’ is, if you tell me you’re a man, then I’ll take your word for it.”
     
    I nodded again. “I’m a man,” I repeated.
     
    “Okay, shorty,” Slim said. “Okay.”
     
    # # #
     
    Five Years Later
     
    “Yo, hurry up, man!”
     
    “I’m hurrying. Calm the fuck down,” I shot back. I jimmied the thin steel bar between the window and the car exterior, slipping it down towards where the lock mechanism was sheltered. My teeth gritted as I concentrated on finding the right point of leverage.
     
    “C’mon, c’mon…” Slim muttered. His hands pawed at the air like they always did. His eyes darted nervously around the empty street, looking for anyone who might cause trouble.
     
    I thought that he’d have calmed down years ago, but calm was just not in Slim’s nature. He was a twitchy, nonstop blur of motion and anxiety, always sniffing out the tiniest scent of danger. There—the bar caught and the lock unlatched. The door to the BMW swung open on silent hinges.
     
    Tucking the bar into the loop of my belt, I quickly dropped to my knees and popped open the panel on the underside of the steering column. The wire guts of the car peered back at me, a mess of colorful, twisted cables and circuitry that would have looked intimidatingly complex if I hadn’t done this a million times already.
     
    “Pliers,” I hissed over my shoulder. Slim leaped forward and quickly plunked the tool down in my hand. I reached in, grabbed the cable I wanted, and gave it a neat snip. After