him to do. The right thing to do.
"I know what dreams did to me, how I had them for a long time after that
part of things was over for me." And still had them now and again, he
thought, but there was no need to tell the boy he might have to face a
lifetime of flashing back and overcoming. "I know what it does to your
guts."
"Bullshit." The tears were burning the backs of Seth's eyes, humiliating
him all the more. "Nothing's wrong with me. I got the hell out, didn't
I? I got away from her, didn't I? I'm not going back either, no matter
what."
"No, you're not going back," Ethan agreed. No matter what.
"I don't care what you or anybody thinks about what went on back then.
And you're not tricking me into saying things about it by pretending you
know."
"You don't have to say anything about it," Ethan told him. "And I don't
have to pretend." He picked up the cap Seth's blow had knocked off his
head, ran it absently through his hands before putting it back on. But
the casual gesture did nothing to ease the tight, slick ball of tension
in his gut.
"My mother was a whore--my biological mother. And she was a junkie with
a taste for heroin." He kept his gaze on Seth's and his voice
matter-of-fact. "I was younger than you when she sold me the first time,
to a man who liked young boys."
Seth's breathing quickened as he took a step back. No, was all he could
think. Ethan Quinn was everything strong and solid anda normal.
"You're lying."
"People mostly lie to brag, or to get out of some stupid thing they've
done. I don't see the point in either--and less in lying about this."
Ethan took his cap off again because it suddenly felt too tight on his
head. Once, twice, he raked his hand through his hair as if to ease the
weight. "She sold me to men to pay for her habit. The first time, I
fought. It didn't stop it, but I fought. The second time, I fought, and
a few times more after that. Then I didn't bother fighting because it
just made it worse."
Ethan's gaze stayed level on the boy's. In the harsh overhead lights
Seth's eyes were dark, and not as calm as they had been when Ethan had
begun to speak. Seth's chest hurt until he remembered to breathe again.
"How'd you stand it?"
"I stopped caring." Ethan shrugged his shoulders. "I stopped being, if
you know what I mean. There wasn't anybody I could go to for help--or I
didn't know there was. She moved around a lot to keep the social workers
off her tail."
Seth's lips felt dry and tight. He rubbed the back of his hand over them
violently. "You never knew where you're going to wake up in the
morning."
"Yeah, you never knew." But all the places looked the same. They all
smelled the same.
"But you got away. You got out."
"Yeah, I got out. One night after her john had finished with both of us,
there wasa some trouble." Screams, blood, curses. Pain. "I don't