I sighed, now impatient to be free of him. I stood, waiting, without turning again to look at him.

  “You asked me why. I never told you the real reason.”

  There was something in his voice—a kind of ache, of vulnerability—that now made me turn to look. He stared right at me as though he were trying to see inside. His eyes glistened.

  “He chose me. No one ever did that before.” He lowered his head. His shoulders shook once, twice. He raised his head, wiped his eyes with the back of his head. “Now go on, get the fuck out of here.”

  I kept my shoulders back, my head held high, and my tears at bay as I worked my way through the prison with its doors and guards.

  He’s human. He’s damaged beyond repair. But he’s human. And he once loved. He once hoped. But, save for me, had anyone ever loved him? Had those parents of his, so involved in their own addictions and pain, ever given him anything that resembled nurturing? Had he ever known the meaning of the word family?

  Outside, I was relieved I wouldn’t have to take the long and scary trip home via buses and trains. No, I had a ride.

  Hunter waited for me outside.

  I pictured him in the beat-up, fifteen-year-old Honda Civic he’d managed to acquire for his new job at Old Orchard Mall in Skokie, working as a sales assistant in the men’s department at Nordstrom. He was doing great, surprising himself more than anyone else. His face was open, smiling, a welcome to a world I wasn’t sure I still had access. His hair, now cut short, his green eyes, and the dark stubble that defined the contours of his jawline caused me to have an epiphany—this was the man I imagined Jeb would have, could have, grown up to be.

  If only…

  Outside, Hunter waited in the idling car, expectant and grateful for my approach. In the backseat, Vito popped up and gave out a single bark in greeting.

  Hunter had come to me not to terrorize me, but to save me. And he would always be that—my savior and maybe, if things continued as they were, my love.

  The End

  Rick R. Reed is an award-winning and bestselling author of more than fifty works of published fiction. He is a Lambda Literary Award finalist. Entertainment Weekly has described his work as “heartrending and sensitive.” Lambda Literary has called him: “A writer that doesn’t disappoint…”

  Rick lives in Palm Springs, CA, with his husband, Bruce, and their two rescue dogs, Kodi and Joaquin.

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