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the truck.

Peter climbed into the passenger seat then took one last glance at the house. Heā€™d tossed the keys onto the kitchen table before heā€™d walked out. There was no going back, even if by some freaking act of God his family wanted him.

It was time to create a new home with people who cared about him, flaws and all.

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LEAVING HOME T.A. Chase 8

Chapter One

The sound coming from the alley caught Peter Skinnerā€™s attention. He paused on the

sidewalk, staring into the shadows between the two buildings. Tugging out his mace, he

thought about the promise heā€™d made to Les, his boss. He wasnā€™t supposed to go into dark

alleys anymore, not after the last time when some kids whoā€™d wanted to steal his wallet had beaten him up. It didnā€™t matter that both Les and Max had taught him some self-defence

moves.

Peter snorted quietly. Who was he kidding? Even though heā€™d learnt some moves, that

didnā€™t make him a black belt or anything. Heā€™d be lucky not to hurt himself if he tried

something.

A pain-filled moan emerged from the alley again, and Peter took a deep breath. He

couldnā€™t walk away when someone might be in there, and might be hurt. Maybe he should

call the police. It would be the smart thing to do, but Peter didnā€™t want to do the smart thing.

He wanted to do the brave thing, which would be to enter the alley. As long as he had his mace and his phone ready, he should be okay.

ā€œHello?ā€ he called out, unsure he wanted an answer. He wasnā€™t brave, not really. Peter

could admit that to himself, if not anyone else.

Another moan drew him closer, and he decided it was now or never. Not going in

really wasnā€™t an option for him, not if someone really was injured or dying in there. After straightening his shoulders, he strolled into the alley like he was six-five and muscle-bound.

Max had told him that one way not to become a victim was to act like he knew what he

was doing. ā€˜Keep your eyes up, and shoulders back. Meet a personā€™s gaze as they approach

you. That way theyā€™ll know youā€™ve seen them. It makes most people hesitate before

attackingā€™. He could hear Maxā€™s explanation in his head.

Peter hadnā€™t gone very far before he almost tripped over a man sprawled on the

ground.

ā€œOh shit. Iā€™m sorry. Are you all right?ā€ Peter crouched next to him, but answered his

own question. ā€œOf course youā€™re not all right. If you were fine, you wouldnā€™t be lying in an alley.ā€

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LEAVING HOME T.A. Chase 9

The stranger muttered something, and Peter leaned closer to him. The smell of alcohol

and sweat hit his nose with all the force of a wind storm. He rocked back on his heels,

gagging slightly. Not even Yancey, after helping a horse give birth, had smelt that bad.

ā€œGreat,ā€ he muttered. ā€œI came back here to save a wino.ā€

Peter might have disliked the fact that the man was drunk, but he couldnā€™t very well

leave him helpless in the alley. He reached to grab the manā€™s arm.

ā€œIā€™ll help you out of here.ā€

ā€œWhat are you doing?ā€ The strangerā€™s rank breath caused Peter to wrinkle his nose in

disgust.

ā€œI just said I was trying to help you out of here. I actually think I should call an

ambulance. You should really go to the hospital.ā€ Peter grimaced as he practically lifted the man to his feet. ā€œIā€™m Peter, by the way.ā€

ā€œIā€™m Chaz, and I wonā€™t go to the hospital. Iā€™ll be fine. Just need a place to crash for a few days.ā€ Chazā€™s head rolled on his shoulders, a dirty, disgusting version of a ragdoll.

Peter shook his head. ā€œI really donā€™t think thatā€™s a good idea. You smell like youā€™ve been on a three-day binge without stopping to take a shower or brush your teeth. Iā€™ve seen pigs that smell better than you.ā€

ā€œDonā€™t know you, man. Not sure you have the right to judge me.ā€ Chaz sounded

indignant.

Peter couldnā€™t help it. He snorted as he dragged Chaz towards the alley entrance.

ā€œChaz, Iā€™m not judging you. Iā€™m simply stating a fact about the way you smell.ā€

They got to the sidewalk where Peter lowered Chaz to the ground. The man leaned

against the building then rested his head back on the brick wall. Standing there, Peter studied Chaz, unsure why his heartbeat increased as he looked at him. It had to have been because of dragging Chaz from the alley. Yet Peter knew that was a lie.

Chaz was covered in dirt, obviously not having made the acquaintance of a shower at

any point in the last couple of days. It was hard to tell the colour of his hair because of the grime. His green eyes were bloodshot and there were dark bags under them. Peter doubted

Chaz had had any sleep in the last several days.

He noticed that Chazā€™s hands shook and his skin was sickly pale under the dirt. Peter

couldnā€™t be a hundred per cent sure, but he thought Chaz might have been high, or coming

down from a high.

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LEAVING HOME T.A. Chase 10

ā€œDo you have a place to stay around here, Chaz?ā€ Peter kept his phone out, but tucked

his mace away. He didnā€™t have anything to worry about from Chaz. Hell, Peter could

probably have knocked the guy over, and he wasnā€™t very strong.

Chaz licked his chapped lips, drawing Peterā€™s attention to their plumpness. Fuck! He

needed to get a handle on this weird attraction. There was no way in hell Peter could want a dirty druggie who was more than likely homeless. Doing anything to make it obvious would

surely lead to Peter getting his ass handed to him, Chaz being high notwithstanding.

ā€œWhat day is it?ā€ Chaz looked at his wrist like he expected to see a watch there. He

grunted when he saw it was bare.

ā€œSeriously? Youā€™ve been so high you lost track of the days?ā€ Peter shook his head. ā€œItā€™s

Monday, August fifth.ā€

ā€œFuck!ā€ Chaz scrubbed his hand through his short-cropped hair. ā€œI didnā€™t realise it was

so late. I need to get back.ā€

ā€œWhere is home? If you donā€™t mind

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