Chapter 4

He had no shortage of takers. Sean wondered what he pulled in during an evening in tips alone. The bills were testing the elastic of the thong’s waistband, and a few errant bills slipped to the stage. The boy discreetly snatched them up and held them in his hand as he made his way down the lascivious receiving line, letting the patrons dip their hands inside the thong to ensure what he had on display was real. Sean assumed it was—no way to fake that. He also let them pat his ass, running their hands over its smooth contours. When Sean watched one guy wet his finger and slip it inside the boy’s butt, he decided he’d had enough.

This wasn’t for him. It never was.

He climbed down from the barstool and headed into the summer night, perfumed with exhaust from the traffic, already heavy along Belmont and Halsted.

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