Read Online The Guy With the Suitcase (Once Upon a Guy #1) by Chris Ethan - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Chris Ethan
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at her, making sure to not shout loud enough to be heard all across the store.
Marissa pushed herself back in her chair. “What? How? What happened?”
“Some assholes saw me trying to pick up customers and started following me. They pushed me in an alley and pinned me to the ground,” Rafe murmured.
“Did they...?” Marissa couldn’t and wouldn’t finish her sentence, but Rafe was okay with that. Even he didn’t like the sound of it spoken out loud, no matter if the word circled round and round his mind.
“No, they didn’t. I said nearly. This guy came in the alley and stopped them,” he told her and sipped his chocolate.
Marissa reached for his hand across the table. “How do you feel? Can I...?” she started, but Rafe had enough talking about last night’s incident.
He withdrew his hand from under hers. “I’m...okay, I guess. I will be okay. There’s nothing you can do for me anyway,” he said. Only when he said it did he realize it might have come across in a different way.
If Marissa was hurt, she didn’t let it show because her hand stayed where it was on the table and her voice was as sympathetic as it had been before.
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do, no matter how small,” she told him.
Why wouldn’t she drop the subject already? Rafe set his drink down, spilling some on his hand as he retaliated on Marissa. “Can you find me a home? No. How about a job that doesn’t include me selling my body to creepy old dudes? No. Can you give me my medication or a medical insurance? No. So how the fuck do you think you can help me, Marissa?”
Was Pierce rubbing off on him or what? Where had that come from? He loved Marissa like a sister and didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but there he was, throwing insults at her face, totally unprovoked. “I’m sorry,” he managed to say before he dashed out of Mario’s with his head hanging low in shame.
He wandered the streets thinking of how terrible he’d been to his best friend. Thinking of last night’s events and how they brought out the need for safety back into his life. He couldn’t keep doing what he did because it was risky, but if he didn’t, he’d die. How had his life got so fucked up?
The more he walked, the more upset he got with himself. His stomach tied up in knots as he kept telling himself what an idiot he’d been and how stupidly he had acted. He didn’t know what had got into him. He wasn’t like that. He was always nice to people. He was always nice to his parents even though they were far less than that to him. He’d just take the hit. Literally.
His stomach bloated and his mouth felt dry and his knees wavered. He kept walking, but he felt weaker. His throat became hoarse and tingly. He coughed. He coughed again. Once he started, he was unable to stop. He tried to stop, but to no avail.
He sat on a ledge, steadying himself, trying to soothe whatever had awakened inside. He took a deep breath, then another one. Sweat trickled down from his hairline to his forehead and down his eyebrow. His cheeks felt flushed. His body had calmed down, though, despite feeling warmer and warmer.
He took another breath and the city pollution traveled up his nose and down his lungs causing him to cough again. He covered his mouth and eyed the passersby hoping he hadn’t alarmed anyone. Rafe looked at his hand and found it was covered in sprinkles of blood. He put his finger in his mouth and took it out to inspect it. There was no blood. Where the hell had it come from?
His breathing became harder and he felt more sweat encompassing him. A feeling of sickness found its way to his mouth and he spewed vomit beside him. He coughed a little more, then wiped his mouth. The oxygen his nostrils inhaled seemed fresher now and a coolness reached out to his limbs. He found his footing again, slowly, but steadily.
Pierce opened his eyes, craning his neck to both sides, trying to ease the pain in his neck. Sleeping with a pillow
Marissa pushed herself back in her chair. “What? How? What happened?”
“Some assholes saw me trying to pick up customers and started following me. They pushed me in an alley and pinned me to the ground,” Rafe murmured.
“Did they...?” Marissa couldn’t and wouldn’t finish her sentence, but Rafe was okay with that. Even he didn’t like the sound of it spoken out loud, no matter if the word circled round and round his mind.
“No, they didn’t. I said nearly. This guy came in the alley and stopped them,” he told her and sipped his chocolate.
Marissa reached for his hand across the table. “How do you feel? Can I...?” she started, but Rafe had enough talking about last night’s incident.
He withdrew his hand from under hers. “I’m...okay, I guess. I will be okay. There’s nothing you can do for me anyway,” he said. Only when he said it did he realize it might have come across in a different way.
If Marissa was hurt, she didn’t let it show because her hand stayed where it was on the table and her voice was as sympathetic as it had been before.
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do, no matter how small,” she told him.
Why wouldn’t she drop the subject already? Rafe set his drink down, spilling some on his hand as he retaliated on Marissa. “Can you find me a home? No. How about a job that doesn’t include me selling my body to creepy old dudes? No. Can you give me my medication or a medical insurance? No. So how the fuck do you think you can help me, Marissa?”
Was Pierce rubbing off on him or what? Where had that come from? He loved Marissa like a sister and didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but there he was, throwing insults at her face, totally unprovoked. “I’m sorry,” he managed to say before he dashed out of Mario’s with his head hanging low in shame.
He wandered the streets thinking of how terrible he’d been to his best friend. Thinking of last night’s events and how they brought out the need for safety back into his life. He couldn’t keep doing what he did because it was risky, but if he didn’t, he’d die. How had his life got so fucked up?
The more he walked, the more upset he got with himself. His stomach tied up in knots as he kept telling himself what an idiot he’d been and how stupidly he had acted. He didn’t know what had got into him. He wasn’t like that. He was always nice to people. He was always nice to his parents even though they were far less than that to him. He’d just take the hit. Literally.
His stomach bloated and his mouth felt dry and his knees wavered. He kept walking, but he felt weaker. His throat became hoarse and tingly. He coughed. He coughed again. Once he started, he was unable to stop. He tried to stop, but to no avail.
He sat on a ledge, steadying himself, trying to soothe whatever had awakened inside. He took a deep breath, then another one. Sweat trickled down from his hairline to his forehead and down his eyebrow. His cheeks felt flushed. His body had calmed down, though, despite feeling warmer and warmer.
He took another breath and the city pollution traveled up his nose and down his lungs causing him to cough again. He covered his mouth and eyed the passersby hoping he hadn’t alarmed anyone. Rafe looked at his hand and found it was covered in sprinkles of blood. He put his finger in his mouth and took it out to inspect it. There was no blood. Where the hell had it come from?
His breathing became harder and he felt more sweat encompassing him. A feeling of sickness found its way to his mouth and he spewed vomit beside him. He coughed a little more, then wiped his mouth. The oxygen his nostrils inhaled seemed fresher now and a coolness reached out to his limbs. He found his footing again, slowly, but steadily.
Pierce opened his eyes, craning his neck to both sides, trying to ease the pain in his neck. Sleeping with a pillow
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