Sidecar by Amy Lane Read Free Book Online Page A

terrible whining sound when he pulled up on the chrome handle of the pickup, and Casey looked at him worriedly.
    “Tell you what,” he said, thinking that he really needed clothes. “How ’bout I go inside and get some clothes, and you rest in here.”
    Joe closed his eyes. “Not gonna find you on the side of the road again, am I?”
    “Not if you promise not to call social services when you’re better.”
    Joe grunted a little in pain. “Oh God, kid. Shit. Can I just promise not to do it without talking it over with you first?”
    Yippee!
    “I’ll let that stand for now,” Casey said, feeling generous.
    Joe reached with an effort into his wallet and pulled out five twenties. Casey grimaced. One of the things he had liked about his past life had been the clothes. Mom had dropped him off at the mall anytime he asked, and given him a credit card. Sure, it wasn’t his money, but that didn’t mean he didn’t see the amount.
    A hundred dollars wasn’t it.
    “Keep it simple today,” Joe said, his breath coming hard through the pain. “Two pairs of jeans, some T-shirts and underwear, a couple of basic sweatshirts. If you can wear scrubs to bed, you can get yourself some cheap tennis shoes and some socks. Will that do?”
    Yeah, this guy just gave a kid who wasn’t his a hundred dollars to buy clothes to live in. Casey decided that for the moment, he was over being a fashion plate. He also decided he really wanted a job of his own, but now was not the time.
    “You want to take those pain pills?” he asked instead. He grabbed the pharmacy bag and pulled them out, then grabbed Joe’s soda from McDonald’s, because there was still half a cup left.
    “Don’t want to pass out on you, kid.”
    Casey didn’t want to see him in pain. “Here. I’ll wake you up when I’m done. It’ll be an hour at least, right?”
    Joe grunted, and he must really have been feeling it, because he took the pills and slumped back against the window. There was a gap between the seat and the back of the truck, and Casey searched it for a blanket, pleased to see that there was an old Army surplus wool thing back there, like he’d suspected. Joe seemed the type to come prepared. He covered Joe up and jogged across the parking lot to try to become a real boy.
    It took him nearly exactly an hour, but part of that was because he was followed so closely by the security guy that it was a wonder the jerk-off didn’t get an image of Glen “Big Daddy” going up Casey’s tailpipe. It didn’t matter. Casey kept the little basket in plain sight, and security guy had to concede that he bought everything he put there. When Casey was done, he walked up to the guy who was glaring at him in his hospital scrub bottoms and flip-flops, and gave him the sort of expression that adults usually saved for their own kids when they were screwing around.
    “Did I pass inspection, chief?” he asked, and the guy scowled.
    “I didn’t see you steal nothin’.”
    “Bitchin’! Now that I got the tags and a receipt, are you going to give me shit if I go into the bathroom over there by customer service so I can change?”
    The guy grunted again. “Why you want to change here?”
    “Because it’s fucking cold out there, and the scrubs are thin.”
    “What, those the only clothes you got?” The guy was squat, midfifties, with a crew cut. Casey hated him sort of on sight.
    “Yeah. Yeah, they are. I ran away to my uncle’s with the clothes on my back. Those about rotted off, and these are the only fucking clothes I got. Do you know enough about my life now? Can I go get dressed?” He glared at the guy, who held up his hands and backed down, and Casey went into the bathroom, rather amazed at his own chutzpah.
    Who knew that being the guy with nothing to lose made it so much easier to win?
    And God, didn’t he feel human now that he was dressed. He’d spent that hundred dollars about down to the last two bucks, and was proud of that too. He even managed