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Rent Matthew
Chapter 36 – The Runaway
After leaving his teacher’s house, Matthew walked for miles and hitchhiked. To survive, he had to take on odd jobs, washing dishes, farmwork, whatever it took to secure food and transport to the next town and the journey ahead.
Weeks later, in the back alley of a major city, a black luxury vehicle pulled up beside the kid. It had followed him here.
The dark tinted window rolled down and he was invited by the passenger to hop in. When the door swung open, Matthew did what he had never done before. He got into the backseat of a stranger’s car.
Matthew was new to this and he looked nervous. However, it was cold and he had not eaten yet. His tough adolescent shell couldn’t hide how frightened he was inside. He quickly listed the cost of his services.
"How much for the whole night?"
Matthew found the voice familiar, but couldn’t put a name to it. Then the luxury vehicle passed underneath a street lamp and the light revealed a familiar face.
"Mr. Lyon? Jesus Christ …."
Matthew swore out loud as he fumbled with the door lock. But it was too late, for Mr. Lyon had already placed his hand firmly on the kid's thigh.
"Please don't tell Madeline …."
Matthew knew his mistake the moment he blurted her name out. It would have been easier with a stranger, but Mr. Lyon wasn’t. He recalled meeting the 45-year-old fashion designer at Madeline’s place several months ago.
“Matthew, I think you have a lot of potential. I want to help you out."
Matthew wasn’t born yesterday. He knew what the older man wanted from him. He knew what would happen next.
* * * * *
The shirtless kid sat in the backseat, as the older man had his way with his body. Matthew could have fought back harder, but Mr. Lyon knew Madeline. She was his benefactor, the one who sponsored his scholarship. He didn’t want her to find out what he had become.
“Damn, your cock is big. At least eight inches.” said Mr. Lyon.
Just before the older man went down on him, Matthew threw his head back against the car seat and the agony began all over again. Images of Alex flashed through his mind, the cuts on his body, the protestors at the funeral. Clenching his teeth, Matthew tried to make himself disappear.
"God, let this be over," silently begged Matthew.
But there was no god. If there was, then it was the same god that had allowed Alex to suffer. Screw it! He might as well sell his body. Maybe then he could find peace, maybe then he could be with Alex.
When it was finally over, Matthew pulled up his pants. He had fulfilled his quota for the night.
"Mr. Lyon, you don't have to pay me. I’ll just take my leave …."
Matthew had made the initial mistake of getting into the car, and now all he wanted was to get out.
"You have the features of a top male model. I can help you …."
Mr. Lyon insisted the kid stay.
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