Sweet Like Candy (MANxMAN)

07 - Tobias the Twisted

Chapter Seven

Tobias's POV

I tried not to slow down as I made my way to the black Land Rover parked on the curb, but the inevitable chewing out I was gonna get made it damn hard. The windows were tinted so dark that you could only see the vaguest of shadows inside. Taking a deep breath, I got in.

The high beams of a passing car illuminated the interior, just enough so that I saw Draven staring ahead intently, before it turned a corner and vanished, once again bathing us in darkness.

Draven took the car out of park and pulled off the curb, heading into traffic. I mentally braced myself, gearing for the fight. Reasons why it was a good idea to step in for Antoine flashed behind my eyes like a numbered list.

1. He was young, he shouldn't have to deal with that abuse.

2. He clearly wasn't like the druggies and bangers, he wanted to make something out of himself. The way he fought in the Trench was obvious. He was ready to fight against almost death to win his freedom, even for just a little bit.

3.  The pack never had enough help. He wasn't a wolf, but he was smart enough to help out with anything. I could pull out some money and send him to college, then he'd really be qualified in whatever he chose to do.

4—

"Give the kid back, Tobias."

There was no pause between Draven's growled words and my answer, "No."

"You're startin' shit that doesn't need to be started. Get obsessive sometimes, understandable, it's the beast. You're lonely, Madam Dosha's always open. Want somethin' long term, plenty of guys in the pack."

I hadn't made an attempt to be part of the pack in years, and I sure as shit wasn't about to start now. And whores? Yeah, because I got all hot and bothered at the thought of paying them at the end of the night. Casual sex had never been my thing. Besides, if I wanted to get laid by someone with a nice body, I could get it for free. But, I wanted the brains, the familiarity, the trust.

Antoine's face blinked through my mind, his scarred body and how he'd been through hell and back before even making it out of his teens. I'd been through it too, and I had no plans on letting the boy who'd devoured my chicken Alfredo and sent me little half smiles go through it again.

"I can't do that."

"Why the fuck not?" Draven yelled, his voice verging on that precarious line between human and beast.  "Not pack, not family, not your problem."

"Because I was him!" The scream came out of me before I could stop it, choked full of fury and frustration. "I was him, Draven, and that's why. I was whored out, and had the shit beat out of me over and over. I was either delivering someone else's punishment, or taking it from someone meaner than I was. The only difference between him and I is that I got out—I got out and I made sure to kill every last one of those fuckers!"

Draven went absolutely still, pensive. His eyes flicked to me, resembling an alien detecting an oddly upset new creature. Probably because I was a moody shit, but I wasn't an emotional one.

"Do you remember me? Do you remember what I was?" I asked quietly. Because at that point I wasn't a person, I was an empty vessel that would've gladly swan-dived off the nearest building if I had the chance. "I was bleeding out on the streets with both of my legs hanging on by a few pieces of tendon. No medicine could cure me and my body was so fucked I wasn't even feeling pain anymore, just numbness. So I cried and when I finally had no tears anymore, I begged someone to kill me."