Breathe

Chapter Thirteen Sweet

“Sweet.”

Deck spoke so quietly, Chace could barely hear him over the crunching snow.

Chace didn’t process the word because his mind was consumed.

It was consumed with the fact that they’d been walking through the dark wood at the bottom of the eastern hills that flanked town and they’d been doing it for ten minutes. The last five, they’d steadily been moving uphill.

Since leaving Sioux Street, the eastern most street that edged the town, they’d had nothing but trees, rock, snow and bitter cold.

It wasn’t fun for him, a fit man in his thirties. The idea of Malachi making this trek to get what he might need from town filled him with unrest. Or more than he already had. He knew the kid was hiding but finding his spot in the middle of nowhere filled with snow, cold and wild animals, some of which were dangerous, took it to a different level.

Chace’s mind was also consumed with what he left at the hospital.

When Chace, Faye and Silas arrived, they were working on Malachi with urgency and they weren’t allowed to see him.

He flashed his badge and asked for reports when they had them and this got them a visit from an ER nurse five minutes later. She’d made the visit to garner information about Malachi, such as possible allergies to medicines and why he was in the state he was. Unfortunately, they couldn’t tell her jack about medicines but at least they were able to fill in some of the blanks about the state he was in.

Before she left, she’d explained they were concerned about malnutrition, dehydration and infection, not in that order. They’d lucked out and found a vein and were pumping him with fluids and antibiotics, warming him up and cleaning his wounds to assess the extent of damage.

By the time Chace left with Deck to meet the officers at the shed, have a look at it and its surroundings himself, Sondra had arrived and a doctor had come to make his report.

Malachi’s humerus was broken. It had already begun to knit so they’d had to put him under, rebreak it and set it. They’d also lucked out that Deck’s unpracticed eye saw nothing but mess. Malachi had apparently cleaned his wounds as best he could with what they were guessing from what they could smell on his sweater, the shampoo Faye had given him. He also had antibiotic ointment on the worst of them, Faye’s Neosporin. It was good he’d cleaned his wounds and used the ointment but treatment had been delayed, infection was still a concern so they were pushing strong IV antibiotics.

He was in the critical care unit because they still had some concerns that infection had set in and they reported they had minor worries that he might lose his fucking leg and his fucking hands.

The hospital had a policy that only family members could attend patients in critical care and therefore, at first, they were denied a visit. Chace explained the circumstances including the fact that it was jacked, but Faye was the closest thing the kid had to family and the only person who they knew who had spoken directly to him in weeks. The doctor relented instantly knowing, even if nurture came from someone he hardly knew, nurture was nurture.

Chace and Faye were let in to see him and at first sight of his small body with tubes stuck in him, his hands wrapped, his face bruised and still swollen, his arm in a sling, the covers taller around his dressed leg, Chace thought Faye would fall apart. Many people would, men or women. Fuck, Chace had to suck in breath to hold it together.

But she didn’t. She moved directly to him, ran her fingers lightly through his hair and bent right to his ear.

“It’s Faye. Chace and I are here, Malachi. We’re here. We found you. You’re safe now,” she whispered. “You’re safe, honey. You just need to get better. We’re here and you’re safe.”

Chace found a chair and moved it to the bed before he put his hand to the small of her back. She was still bent over Malachi running her fingers through his hair but when she felt his touch, her neck twisted and she caught his eyes.

“Sit, baby,” he whispered.

She nodded and sat then pulled the chair closer, stretched out an arm and wrapped her fingers around his bicep.

Chace gave her a moment then slid the hair off her shoulder and bent close.

“Gonna see to business.”

Her head twisted so she could catch his eyes again and she immediately nodded without uttering a question.

But she whispered, “Come back.”

“I will,” he promised. “I’ll send your Mom in.”

She nodded again and turned back to Malachi. “Chace has to go, Malachi. But he’s coming back,” she whispered.

“Give me some room, darlin’,” Chace muttered, Faye’s head jerked to look at him then she moved back in her chair and Chace moved in, leaning over Malachi.

He curled his fingers around his bony shoulder and bent close to his ear. “Stay strong, buddy. You’re good. You got folks lookin’ out for you now.”

He gave him a gentle squeeze, pulled back and looked to Faye to see now, she had wet in her eyes.

He wanted to comfort her but he sensed if he did, the hold she had would unravel.

So he moved in to kiss her nose, pulled back half an inch, locked eyes with her and whispered, “Be back soon.”

“Okay, Chace.”

He shifted away, cupped her jaw in his hand, slid the pad of his thumb over her bubblegum lips then he let her go and walked away.

He gave a brief report to Deck, Silas and Sondra, sent Sondra in and told Silas what he and Deck would be doing. They exchanged phone numbers. Then Chace followed Deck to Sioux Street and into the wood.

Long moments after Deck muttered the first word either of them spoke during their trek, Chace asked, “What?”

“Your woman,” Deck answered. “Sweet.”

He was not in the mood to be given shit about Faye.

“Deck –” he started in a warning tone.

“No shit, Chace. Not what I meant. She’s sweet. Pretty. Great hair. Great ass. Great fuckin’ boots. This shit fuckin’ sucks, that kid, the state of him, what you’re gonna see when you get to that shed, brother, nothin’ good about it. So bad, it’s beyond bad straight to disturbing. So now, you think of what you left back at that hospital. Because, seriously, man, when we get up there, you’re gonna need good thoughts the like of your girl.”

Chace was already preparing himself for what he’d see.

Now he knew it was worse.

Fuck.

Deck wasn’t done.

“Lined up two hundred women, told me to choose the one for you, I’d choose the one back there. Settin’ myself up for what I’m gonna see again, gonna hold onto the knowledge that a year ago, my boy had one serious, fuckin’ bitch sleepin’ in his bed and he was sleepin’ in his guest room. Now, when he’s done with this shit, tonight, tomorrow, until he does the smart thing and makes it legal and then until he dies, he’s got that sweet in his bed. Don’t flip out, I know it’s new between you two. I also know you are no dumb fuck. You got that kinda sweet, you’re gonna make it legal. Since I don’t have sweet to go home to, I’ll hang onto the fact that my brother, who’s always deserved it, finally does.”

Deck and Chace had shared vows of brotherly love over Deck’s Dad’s stolen beer they consumed in Deck’s basement when they were freshmen in high school the first time they got drunk off their asses.

Since then, through a lot of good times and bad, that love grew.

These kinds of words from Deck were rare but they were as real as the feeling behind them. Deck detested Misty, fucking hated Chace’s father and not just recently and he knew the whole story. So they were also not surprising.

They also gave fair warning of what he was going to see.

They walked in silence for a few more minutes before men’s voices could be heard and the beams of high powered flashlights like the ones Deck and Chace were using to light the way could be seen.

“Keaton and Decker,” Chace called to inform them of who was approaching.

They got a “Yo,” and a “Hey,” back from two of the four uniforms on duty, Dave and Terry. Both were new recruits. Dave, a three-year veteran who moved to Carnal from Idaho to be closer to his nearly new wife’s family in Gnaw Bone seeing as she was pregnant and had three sisters and thus they had four built-in babysitters, including her Mom. And Terry, a fresh recruit out of the Academy, hailing from Fort Collins.

Deck and Chace met them in the snow outside a dilapidated shed about the size of a big bathroom. The men huddled, kept their lights low in their hands, aimed up but away from faces, lighting the conversation.

“Didn’t pull in lights, Chace, ‘cause it’d be a pain in the ass to haul ‘em up here but also because we might wreck tracks if we did,” Dave informed him and Chace nodded.

“Got in a good look around, though,” Terry added. “Did the best we could not to disturb anything. Not that there was much to disturb.”

This was not good.

Chace nodded anyway.

Avoiding the shed for now, he asked, “What’d you find?”

“Not hard to find the trap,” Dave told him and went on to explain, “seein’ as the blood trail led from it to him.” He dipped his head toward the shed.

“Two hundred yards, I figure,” Terry shared quietly, careful with this knowledge because of what it said and Chace braced so his body wouldn’t jerk.

Two hundred yards. Two fucking football fields. A long way to go with a broken arm, two mangled hands and a fucked up leg.

A long way to go.

Jesus Christ.

“Able to walk the first fifty.” Dave’s voice was also quiet. It got quieter when he continued, “Had to drag himself the rest of the way.”

Chace closed his eyes and dropped his head.

He shouldn’t have let it go the way it did. He should have tracked him or set Deck on him sooner. He shouldn’t have given in and gone slow. He should have pushed it.

He didn’t.

Jesus Christ.

“Trap’s old,” Terry carried on, Chace opened his eyes and looked at him. “Probably set years ago and forgotten. Rusted. Snowed over. The kid couldn’t have seen it even if he was movin’ in daylight. Pure bad luck he happened on it.”

Malachi seemed to have a lot of bad luck.

But this bit of it was on Chace.

“He’s big on invisibility, Chace,” Dave put in. “Couldn’t find a lot of tracks and, we get lights or come back in daylight, we’ll know more but seems like he covered them. We went a fair ways, large perimeter, got some animal tracks, only thing we got is a few leadin’ toward the trap he probably hadn’t yet covered and was in no state to mess with and the tracks leadin’ from the trap to the shed. Lots of disturbed snow around the trap.”

“Found some drops look like blood,” Terry stated. “Leadin’ to the trap comin’ from the hill, northeast.”

“He was beaten before he hit that trap,” Deck muttered.

“Yeah?” Dave asked.

“Leg was fucked up by the trap but his arm was broken and his face was a mess. Trap didn’t do that,” Deck told them.

This got nods.

But Chace was thinking of a kid who had been beaten, his arm broken but still had the presence of mind to cover his tracks in the snow.

Who the fuck was beating him, who was he hiding from and why?

These questions were strangely exclusive at the same time inclusive. Somehow, whoever got hold of him got the chance to do it.

But they didn’t know about this place. He kept this a secret.

So how did he keep getting beaten?

Terry looked to Chace. “You want lights brought up?”

Chace looked at his watch then his gaze went to Terry. “Not tonight. Tomorrow morning, we’ll come back up, get a better look around in the daylight, follow that blood, see if we can get anywhere with that.”

Dave and Terry nodded.

Chace reluctantly turned to the shed.

“Bad shit, man,” Dave murmured. “Popped Terry’s cherry, steppin’ into that.”

Terrific.

“Won’t sleep tonight,” Terry mumbled, glancing at the shed then back at Chace. “How old was he?”

“He is nine, maybe ten,” Chace replied.

“Is, right, is,” Terry mumbled again, this time quickly then he asked, “He good?”

“No,” Chace answered.

“Right,” Terry muttered.

Chace studied Terry a moment and decided not to tell him there’d be other sleepless nights. Memories of this and new memories. Traffic accidents. Domestic disturbances. Child abuse. Suicide. Overdoses. Small town didn’t mean small crime. Even with a clean Department. He stayed the course, made it his career, he’d have enough to haunt his sleep for the rest of his life.

Unless he found a good woman to sleep beside him.

On that thought, Chace turned to the shed to create the next ghost that would haunt his, a ghost only the likes of Faye Goodknight could beat away.

He felt Deck move with him and they both trained their flashlights on the door. Rickety, planks warped. Lots of space in between and not only on the door. There was a wind, snow, it’d rush through and settle inside.

It wasn’t much but for a desperate kid, it was better than nothing.

The door hung drunkenly and it was a miracle it held. The shed wasn’t built in this decade or the last. It was, like the trap, unused and long-forgotten. A great hiding place in the summer. A desperate one in the winter.

He carefully pulled open the door, stepped inside and held his body tight as he swung the flashlight around and tried not to breathe in.

“Remember, kid was here awhile, man,” Deck whispered behind him.

The smell eloquently stated that. So did the state of the sleeping bag. Malachi had been unable to move so a week’s worth of bodily mess was visible to the eye and reeking in the small space. The sleeping bag had been zipped open and thrown wide to get him out so the inside was visible and stained with not a small amount of excrement, urine and copious amounts of dried blood.

Chace moved the flashlight around the area and his eyes followed the beam. Malachi had set up his sleeping area against one side of the shed. Under the sleeping bag were some thin, torn pieces of fabric. They looked heavy, they were definitely discarded. Likely from someone’s trash. These were under his sleeping bag which meant, until Chace and Faye gave him that bag, they were all he had. Chace couldn’t even make out if they were blankets or rags. What they were were definitely not enough to shield him from the cold.

At the top of this mess, a small, round cushion, definitely a castoff, stuffing coming out, soiled, dirty.

His pillow.

By the pillow, a bag of bread torn open as if by fumbling hands, blood on the plastic, blood stark on the scattered white of pieces of bred. Eight bottles of water, empty. Six energy drink bottles, empty. The shampoo bottle sitting on its side, blood on it, top not on, shampoo leaking out. The tube of Neosporin, no cap, squeezed dry. Two apple cores. An empty bag of baby carrots with blood smears. Four banana peels, not peeled off, ripped open, teeth marks visible on the inside skins now brown. He’d gnawed the meat out. The bottle of ibuprofen, blood on its sides, unopened. Possibly too difficult to get the cap off with torn up hands and a broken arm but the pain was bad enough, he’d tried. A milk jug opened and on its side, milk still in it, its sour smell mingling with the foul odor. The flashlight Faye got him was amongst this mess, on its side, the light pointed toward the sleeping area, no beam coming from it now.

He moved his light across the back wall and felt his gut get tight.

Six milk crates, plastic, probably stolen from behind the grocery store. Three upended and against the dirt and snow at the floor of the shed. Three sitting on top holding their precious contents away from the dirt and wet. One held the carefully packed remnants of food and drink Chace and Faye had given him. One held his sparse collection of clothing, folded precisely, organized carefully. One held the other bits and pieces, the stacks of paper plates and bowls, his camp cutlery, bottle of vitamins, toothpaste, toothbrush, the packs of batteries Chace bought him to go with his flashlight.

Last, closest to the sleeping area, was a little table that was obviously a castoff Malachi had collected, probably, from the state of it, resting against trash bins at a curb.

His nightstand.

On top of it, his books and comic books. Carefully, almost reverently arranged and Chace knew if he approached and looked closely, they’d be methodically organized.

His prize possessions, close at hand for when he lay in that bag and read.

His prize possessions, close at hand just because they were prized.

Chace sucked in breath to tamp down the surge of feeling moving quickly, freezing his insides and he shifted his beam through the space. Nothing much else, no furniture, some drifts of snow that came through the holes in the ceiling or the openings in the planks.

But in the corner opposite the sleeping area, assisting greatly in the stench, a hole was dug. As it was close to the door, Chace only had to take one step to look in it and see it was excrement and it was dug down deep. There was a large pile of dirt beside it. He shoved dirt on top, probably to aid in getting rid of the smell.

He didn’t see to the call of nature in nature.

He did it there.

And he did it there because he didn’t want anyone to find it elsewhere.

His fear of discovery was so great, he lived with his own shit.

He lived with his own goddamned shit.

Chace moved his beam across the dirt along the wall.

There were three other piles, dirt loose on top, small mounds.

Fucking shit, he’d been there awhile.

Fucking shit, he’d been there awhile.

“Jesus Christ,” Chace whispered.

“Brother, he’s safe now, got sweet sittin’ right beside his hospital bed,” Deck said quietly from beside him.

“Jesus Christ,” Chace repeated.

“I fucked up with the homeless guy, I gotta let that go and Chace, man, you gotta work past this and let it go,” Deck went on.

Chace stared at the hole.

Deck was silent, giving him his moment.

Then he stopped being silent.

“Do not let CPS get their hands on this kid,” Deck whispered.

Chace nodded, his eyes still on that fucking hole.

“Whatever drove him to this desperation, do not set his ass in the system,” Deck went on and Chace turned, cutting his eyes to his friend.

“He’s not goin’ into the system.”

Deck held his gaze.

Then he nodded.

Chace’s phone rang and he pulled it out as he walked around Deck and got the fuck out of that shed.

Once he was breathing clean air again, he took the call and put it to his ear.

“Keaton.”

“Chace, Silas,” Silas replied. “Listen, son, visiting hours are over and they made Sondra and Faye leave the room. Sondra’s got Faye in her Cherokee, we talked her into leavin’. Nothin’ she can do sittin’ in the waiting room and whatever she can do tomorrow she’ll do it better if she gets a little rest. We’re takin’ her home.”

“Right,” Chace muttered.

Silas said nothing.

“I’m still at the shed, Silas,” Chace told him when this silence stretched.

“Okay, son, but you didn’t answer my question,” Silas stated.

Chace blinked.

What question?

“Sorry, didn’t catch the question.”

“We’re takin’ Faye home.”

“Got that.”

“Son, I need to know which home we’re takin’ her to.”

Jesus.

Was the church deacon Dad of the virgin girlfriend he’d deflowered asking him which bed he wanted to sleep in with his daughter that night?

“Yours or hers?” Silas continued.

Fucking hell, he was.

Chace quickly processed this and the question and figured Faye would want familiarity around her.

“Faye’s,” he told Silas.

“Right. You gonna be long?”

“I’m leaving in five, trek to Sioux is about ten minutes, bit more and then I’ll be there a couple minutes after that.”

“Right. We’re idling, ready to leave now. We’ll probably arrive around the same time. See you there. If you get hung up, see you tomorrow.”

Tomorrow?

He didn’t ask.

He just said, “Right, Silas.”

“If I’m not there when you get there,” Silas continued, his voice soft. “See to my girl. Like her Momma, Faye is, in a lotta ways and not just hair and temper. She can stand strong through a lot of shit, son. So strong you won’t even know inside she’s sufferin’. But inside, she’s sufferin’. And now is one of those times. You gettin’ me?”

There it was. The reason Silas Goodknight didn’t mind Chace sleeping beside his daughter.

“I’m getting you, Silas,” Chace replied quietly.

“I reckon you are,” he muttered then, “’Bye, Chace.”

“Later, Silas.”

Chace disconnected.

Deck, Terry and Dave got close but it was Dave who spoke.

“What do you want done with the shit in there?”

“You take pictures?” Chace asked.

“Yeah, about a hundred of ‘em,” Terry answered.

“Good,” Chace said on a jerk of his chin. “The milk crates, the books, bring them back to the Station. Careful with those books. Keep them as they are however you gotta do that. I’ll come and get them when he can have them at the hospital and I want him to have them as he keeps them. Yeah?”

Dave gave him a nod and a, “Yeah.”

Chace looked at Deck. “I gotta get to Faye. They’ve left the hospital.”

“Right, Chace. I’ll help the boys here with the kid’s stuff.”

Chace nodded, gave a chin dip to Dave and Terry then turned back the way he and Deck came.

He walked through the dark, quiet night, the moon silvering the snow, the trees shadows, the only sound his boots crunching through the icy ground cover.

But the only thing he saw was the inside of that shed.

And he still smelled it.

He needed Faye.

Deck was right and he was wrong. He couldn’t use the thought of her to get past what he saw.

He needed her.

And Malachi, whoever the fuck he was, needed everything.

Chace blinked away sleep and the first thing he saw was the soft, light blue sheets of Faye’s bed.

In other words, he saw sheets because Faye wasn’t in bed with him.

He sat up and turned in order to angle out of bed but stilled when he saw her on her couch. She was wearing his sweater, her knees to her chest under it, stretching it out. She had on a pair of bulky, thick socks. Her neck was twisted, her chin resting on her arm which she had laid along the back of the couch, her eyes aimed out the window lit by the first kiss of dawn.

She looked her usual cute but he also saw something in her profile he’d seen on her face before, once. Something he saw years ago. Something he didn’t remember until he saw it just then.

It was one of the few times they’d been in the same place at the same time and she’d caught his eyes for brief seconds before she quickly looked away then moved away.

It was right after he’d married Misty.

It was sorrow.

The memory, what he now knew it meant and her look sliced through him like a blade just as her head turned and her eyes caught on him.

She bent her neck, rested her cheek to her knee but held his gaze.

“I love this town,” she whispered.

“Come back to bed,” he whispered back.

“Lived in it most my life, left to get educated, came back as quick as I could.”

“Back to bed, honey.”

“I want to go places, see things, do things but always come right back here.”

“Bed, darlin’.”

“You saved this town.” She kept whispering and he felt his entire body get tight.

“Faye, baby, come back to bed.”

“I don’t know what secrets you hold but whatever they are, I’ll always believe you saved my town.”

“Come to bed, Faye, or I’ll come and get you.”

“You need to save him, Chace.” She was still whispering, her cheeks getting red and not because she was embarrassed but because she was fighting emotion.

Chace was done.

He threw back the covers, stalked to her, plucked her out of the couch and carried her back to bed. He planted her in it, joined her there, pulled the covers over them and gathered her in his arms.

She shoved her face in his chest and one of her hands under his body so both of her arms could close around him tight.

“If he loses his hands –” her voice was thick, scratchy, hard to hear.

“Stop it,” he ordered gruffly.

She sucked in a breath that broke and Chace pulled her closer.

Last night, Sondra and Silas had still been at Faye’s when he got there because they’d arrived minutes before. They all shared a drink and talked quietly in Faye’s seating area before her parents felt comfortable with the state of their girl and left him to see to her.

Close, long hugs were exchanged between Faye and her Mom and Dad. Chace got a shorter one, but a close one, from Sondra and a firm handshake with a couple claps on the arm from Silas.

After they left, Chace had poured Faye another glass of wine and opened himself another beer and she’d interrogated him about what he found and where it was.

He’d told her nothing and, as she kept at it, reiterated she didn’t need to know.

When she gave up, she did it by looking in his eyes and saying quietly, “I already know just because you won’t tell me.”

She likely didn’t and therefore he was glad she gave up.

He got her another drink. To relax her and in an effort to perk her up, he told her he’d watch the show she’d been begging him to watch.

It worked. She gave him a small smile and even acted a little excited as she sorted out the TV. She also fell asleep halfway through the episode.

Chace, however, didn’t. Luckily she fell asleep before he had to admit that, although it had an edge of geek, the show about two brothers who were on a self-appointed mission to save the world from a variety of phantoms, demons and monsters, whose best friends were an angel who wore a trench coat and a redneck who always wore a beat up baseball cap, wasn’t all that bad.

She woke slightly when he moved to take them to bed. So she groggily got ready and joined him there then slid straight back into sleep, curled close.

Chace didn’t follow her for long hours.

Now was now, Chace holding Faye in his arms while she struggled against tears.

He tipped his chin down and against her hair told her, “Honey, let it go. Nothin’ wrong with tears.”

“If he wakes up, I don’t want him to see my eyes red and face blotchy,” she replied, her voice still thick which meant her throat was still clogged.

“When he wakes up, Faye, all he’s gonna see is pretty. Trust me, he’s a guy, I’m a guy, that’s all we see.”

She shook her head as best she could seeing as her face was in his chest then she tilted her head back and caught his eyes with her brightened ones.

“Stop being sweet,” she whispered.

Never, he thought, caught in her crystal blue eyes.

He pulled her up so they were face to face.

Then he offered her an out.

“You want something to think of, not the vast pile of shit that all of this is?”

“Please,” she answered softly.

“I don’t know his story. I don’t know who his people are. How he got where he is and how he is. I also don’t care. We gotta think about how we’re gonna engineer this situation so he goes from where he is now to somethin’ good. I don’t mean possibly well meaning foster carers because there could be a ‘possibly’ in that. I mean somethin’ good. That goes without saying that if CPS gets him and can’t place him in foster care, he doesn’t go to a fuckin’ home for boys.”

Her entire face brightened and she stated immediately, “I’ll take care of him.”

Chace knew he’d get that.

So carefully, gently, he told her, “That isn’t going to happen.”

“Chace –”

“Faye,” he cut her off, “I’m a cop on a recently cleaned up local police force. I can finesse this but I gotta use that finesse above-board in a way questions won’t be asked and that kid gets what he needs. And, baby, I know you’d give him what he needs but right now you do not have the ability to do that since you live in a one room apartment over a flower shop.”

Her nose scrunched up because this point was valid but she didn’t like it.

She still gave into it.

“Right.”

“I got room but I’m also a single man who’s got a girlfriend who spends the night and, I’ll repeat, the finesse I gotta use has gotta be above-board so I can’t just take a kid under my wing without goin’ through certain motions. And my sleepover girlfriend might be frowned upon if I do.”

“Mom and Dad,” she said immediately.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Or Krystal and Bubba or Tate and Laurie.”

“Or Boyd and Liza,” she threw in.

“Right, or Sunny and Shambles,” he suggested.

“We need to make calls,” she whispered.

“We need to make calls.”

“Who first?” she asked.

“Your Mom and Dad.”

She grinned, the sorrow shifting totally out of her face. “They’ll say yes.”

He already knew that.

“Yeah,” he murmured.

Her grin turned into a smile. “They’ll be great with him and we can see him all the time.”

He knew that too.

“Yeah,” he repeated.

“I’ll call them now.”

He twisted his neck, looked at her alarm clock then looked at her.

“It’s just going six thirty.”

“They’ll be up.”

“Will they be up and in the disposition to discuss takin’ on a kid when they not too long ago got their house all to themselves?”

“Yes,” she replied immediately.

He figured that was true too.

“Give me a kiss then grab the phone.”

She smiled even bigger so he felt it on her lips when she gave him her mouth.

When he broke the kiss, she moved in to give him another light one before she rolled out of his arms and reached for the phone.

Chace rolled out of bed and moved to the bathroom.

By the time he walked out, she was sitting at the side of her bed, off the phone, her dancing eyes came direct to him and her mouth moved.

“They said yes.”

Then she smiled big.

Chace smiled back.

Then he walked to the kitchen and made his girl breakfast.

“Chace, I get you but I haven’t had time to assess the situation fully yet. What I already know –” Karena Papadakis started.

She was a Child Welfare Officer and she was standing with Chace outside the Critical Care Ward.

“He’s a deacon at the church,” Chace cut her off to say. “She designs the Sunday programs. He mows the church lawn. Seriously, Karena, Sondra Goodknight won’t even let her twenty-nine year old daughter say ‘frak’, a made up curse word from a Sci-Fi TV show. They’ll do good by this kid.”

He’d already told her he wanted her to place Malachi with the Goodknights and she was rightly and not surprisingly balking due to procedure.

“They’re older,” Karena replied quietly.

“Yeah. They are. Which means they’ve already raised three kids so they know what they’re doin’. One of those kids is the Mom of two boys. One’s the town librarian who has a Master’s Degree. The last one’s in the Army serving our country,” Chace returned.

“They don’t have foster certification,” she told him.

“Then get it for them,” he told her.

“It would require home visits, foster parent classes –” she began.

“The state he’s in, Karena, he’s not gonna be discharged tomorrow,” Chace pointed out. “You have time and what you already know about that kid and the more you’ll find out, I know you, you’ll bust your hump to fast-track it.”

He was not wrong about this. There were people who found jobs. Karena Papadakis found her calling. Her caseload wasn’t exactly light but it also wasn’t what a person in a similar position in a city would be. This gave her plenty of time to do her job the way she’d probably break her back to do it even if her caseload was double. And that was, with care.

She held his eyes and then cautiously reminded him, “Medical reports say this kid may be special needs. The history you gave me tells me he already is.”

“You know I won’t let that kid down. You don’t know this but you can take my word my woman won’t let him down. They’re her parents. She’s got nephews close to his age. Her sister lives in Gnaw Bone. You place this kid with the Goodknights, he goes from livin’ in his own shit in a shed in the middle of nowhere to livin’ in a modified Brady Bunch house ten minutes out of town with a good, close family who, I assure you, can handle special needs. These people got so much goodness, Karena, they can handle anything.”

“Chace,” she said softly, “I’ve heard what you and Faye Goodknight have been doing for this boy but –”

She stopped speaking, her body jerked and her eyes went over his shoulder so Chace twisted his torso to see Silas bustling up.

“Heya,” he dipped his chin to Karena on a grin when he stopped at their side and muttered a further. “Sorry to interrupt.”

Then he turned to Chace and jerked up a box Chace didn’t get a good look at before he kept speaking.

“Lookee here, Chace,” he shook the box. “After church, me and Sondra went real quick to the mall. My Faye says Malachi likes to read lots and since his hands are messed up, got him one of those fancy shmancy eReaders.” He shook the box again. “Guy at the electronics store, he said all he’s gotta do is press a button on the side to turn the page. They even had little stands he can set it in to hold it up so he doesn’t have to hold it himself. So we got him one of those too. ‘Til he gets his hands back, he can keep right on readin’ cause I figure he can press a button.” He lowered the box, dropped his head and studied it murmuring, “Gotta turn it on at the bottom with a slide doohickey but I figure Sondra, Faye, she’s around, or me could set him up to get him goin’.”

Sondra caught up, didn’t seem to notice Karena at all and lifted a bag toward Chace. Chace also didn’t get a chance to look at it before she dropped it and started talking.

“PJs,” she announced. “Warm ones. You think they’d let him put them on?” she asked then didn’t wait for an answer and turned to Karena who she hadn’t yet met and informed her, “Those hospital blankets are thin. He needs warm jammies.” Then her head jerked this way and that, caught on something and she moved quickly away, muttering, “There’s the nurse. I’ll ask her.”

“I need a plug,” Silas said at this point. “Gotta charge this puppy up.”

Then he took off.

Chace watched as Silas moved away, his head down, his eyes obviously scanning for an outlet. Then Chace saw Sondra standing with an African American woman who was not a nurse, but Malachi’s doctor. She was wearing scrubs, her long, glossy black hair pulled back in a thick ponytail and both of them were looking at a pair of navy blue, flannel, little boys pajama bottoms with airplanes printed on them, smiling.

Chace looked back at Karena.

“I’ll fast-track it,” she mumbled, her lips twitching and she moved away, hand in her purse to pull out her phone.

It was Sunday and Karena Papadakis, a woman he’d worked with more than once, had taken his call and left her family to meet with him at the hospital.

Now she was making more calls to colleagues who also probably didn’t work on Sunday.

Chace grinned at her back as she walked away.

Then he moved toward Silas to help him find a plug.

“I’m sorry, Detective Keaton, this is awkward but I’ve asked you here because unfortunately we have to have this conversation,” the hospital administrator started. “Now that that boy is past urgent care, as he doesn’t have insurance, we need to discuss –”

“Don’t worry about the hospital bills,” Chace interrupted her. “I’ll be responsible for them. If there’s a specialist that can confer with Dr. Hughes who can assist in saving his hands and foot, please advise her that she has the go ahead to seek assistance with his case.”

The administrator blinked then rallied to inform him, “Dr. Hughes is an exceptional pediatric critical care doctor. We’re lucky to have her.”

Chace held her gaze, nodded and replied, “Glad to hear that. But if there’s more that can be done for him, I want it done. Even if he has to be transferred to another hospital.”

Quickly, she gave him information he didn’t give a fuck about, “We’re a fully-equipped Level II Trauma Center. The only one in the mountains outside Loveland and Grand Junction.”

“He’s beyond trauma care,” Chace reminded her.

“We’re an excellent facility,” she pressed.

“I believe you. I still want everything that can be done for Malachi done,” Chace returned.

“It’s my understanding the boy cleaned the wounds and treated them. Gangrene didn’t set in. He may lose some mobility but the threat of him losing them entirely is over.”

“Ma’am,” Chace leaned slightly toward her, “for an indeterminate amount of time, that boy has been livin’ in a shed in the woods by himself with no light, no heat and the toilet he used was a hole he dug himself in the corner. He does not need to endure that only to endure learnin’ to live without a limb or, possibly, losin’ some use of a limb. I get you got pride in your hospital. What you need to get is that I got the funds to see to it that boy gets the best care he can get. So I’m askin’ you to help me get him that. If you don’t, I’ll find a way to do it myself. Now, please, talk to Dr. Hughes and save that kid’s hands and foot.”

She held his gaze and whispered, “I’ll speak with Dr. Hughes.”

“Obliged,” Chace replied.

She got his point loud and clear and he knew this when she reached directly for her phone.

Chace gave her a nod, got out of the chair he was sitting in opposite her at her desk and walked out of her office. As he did, his phone rang.

He pulled it out, looked at the display and took the call.

“Keaton.”

“Blood’s a dead end, brother,” Deck said in his ear.

Deck had called earlier informing Chace he’d be with the officers who combed the woods that morning. Now, he sounded like he was in his truck.

“Nothing?” Chace asked.

“Few drops like they said, leadin’ northeast. Then they disappeared. Maybe he saw them and covered them. Don’t know. Just know there’s nothin’.”

“Tracks?”

“None of those either,” Deck replied. “Wind, snowmelt and settling, even efforts to cover them disappeared. The only thing we found is a trail leadin’ to the north side of town, goin’ in at the Carnal Hotel end and another leadin’ toward the library. Both sets, deep, back and forth, packed. But, you didn’t know he was out there, could be anyone’s since there were so many of them, packed in the snow with snowmelt wiping out individual prints so now it’s just a trough in the snow. But when he got close to the shed, he started to erase them. Smart kid. Didn’t know the trajectory, didn’t know the shed existed, which probably no one knew, by the time he made the effort to get rid of his trail, it could lead anywhere. No one would know where he was heading.”

Chace stopped at the elevator but stood to the side and didn’t tag a button.

“Your take?” he asked quietly and Deck answered immediately, knowing what Chace was asking.

“No fuckin’ clue. Cops say in those hills there are two housing developments, one upscale, one middle income and a bunch of older, individual residences not contained in a development. Beyond that, mountain’s too steep to build homes. Even so, cops say, and I could see for myself, it’d be near on impossible for him to climb up to any of those residences. Slope of the hill gives way to sheer rock face. I’m gonna grab some lunch then go back and look around more, see if there’s some opening where he could climb. If there is, see what it leads to and if he didn’t bother to cover those tracks. It was me, I was nine and someone was beatin’ the shit outta me, I’d be gone. I wouldn’t stay close. But for whatever reason, he went back for more. None of his prints, no one else’s either. No one found him at his shed and did that shit to him then left him there. So, I had to go with my gut, he was stickin’ close for a purpose. What that is, no fuckin’ clue.”

“Siblings,” Chace whispered.

“Say again?” Deck asked.

“Could see him getting beat because someone caught him stealing food or just plain stealing. That’d be jacked but the town is known to have a few mountain families who take care of their own business in an old world way. Those families live outside town, in the hills or up deep in the mountains. It’d be a surprise but I could see it happening. But Malachi is a smart kid, he’d learn not to get caught again and Faye says she’s seen him on numerous occasions with visible evidence of abuse. Personally, I’ve seen it twice. So that’s not it. Also could be he went back to someplace familiar to get food or clothes, got caught, got beat. Or it could be he went back to check on something he cared about, a brother, a sister, got caught, got beat. He wasn’t hiding that shed just from the general population of Carnal. He was hiding his tracks down from wherever he came. He was hiding from whoever’s at home. He’s hiding from everyone.”

“You need to get your boys to run the occupants of those residences,” Deck muttered.

“Yeah but I already checked Colorado Vital Records, Deck, kid doesn’t exist. Not local. Not in the entire state.”

Deck was silent.

Then he said out loud what Chace was thinking.

“This is dark brother.”

“Nope,” Chace returned, “black.”

“Pitch,” Deck whispered and Chace knew Deck was thinking what he was thinking.

Two scenarios.

One, serious hill country, jacked shit where a family existed somewhere in those hills, had minimal contact with the real world and this included procreating and not birthing their babies in a hospital that had records or sending their kids to school.

Two, Malachi and possibly one or more blood or practical siblings had been taken from their real families and were being raised on the quiet by some seriously hill country, jacked person or people who hid them from the real world for nefarious reasons and in order not to be exposed.

Chace had been in that town for thirteen years. Even if there was someone in the hills that lived quiet and eschewed society, they had to mix in some ways. If this escaped his notice, Frank had grown up in that town. He would know about them, he would talk about them, they’d be on cop radar or there would be talk in town. Chace could see people in Carnal letting folks live their life as they saw fit even if they didn’t agree or thought it was whacked. Half the residents were multi-generation hardcore bikers who had been attracted to that town pre-Arnold Fuller as a haven for those who sat a Harley and lived that way of life. So they appreciated this considering they’d chosen a way of life that wasn’t exactly mainstream. That didn’t mean they wouldn’t talk.

This left option two. Malachi had been snatched by someone not right in the head. This meant he could have come from anywhere. This meant he could have a family out there looking for him.

“I’ll eat, go back, comb those woods,” Deck offered, breaking into his thoughts.

“I’ll call the Station,” Chace replied.

Deck hesitated before he asked quietly, “How’s he doin’?”

“Hasn’t regained consciousness and they’re a little concerned because he should have by now. Even so, Faye’s been readin’ to him almost all day. Got her out twice to get a cup of coffee in her and so she could eat some food when her sister came by with lunch she made. Her Mom took over while she was gone. She’s back in.”

“What’re the doctors sayin’?”

“Can’t say, he’s not awake, not movin’. The update though is that the scare is over about him losin’ his hands and foot. Mobility is in question. Color’s better though.”

“Right.”

“I’ll let you know, anything happens.”

“’Preciate that.”

“Get lunch, Deck. Speak soon.”

“Later, man.”

“Later.”

Chace disconnected and shoved the phone in his pocket.

Then he tagged the elevator button to go up and check on Faye and Malachi.

It was time to go, visiting hours were over, the nurse told him. He appreciated her telling him so it would be him that would be the one to go in and tell Faye she had to give it up for the night.

He washed his hands and moved through the ward to the open door, hearing her voice coming soft. She didn’t read staccato, she put emotion into it like a true storyteller, or as best as she could while needing to be quiet in that ward.

He entered Malachi’s room on the thought that someday she’d read to their kids that way.

Therefore, he had a small smile on his face when he saw Sondra first, sitting in the corner and her eyes snapped to him as she raised her index finger and put it to her lips.

With this warning, Chace rounded the closed curtain slowly, silently and stopped dead.

This was because Faye was sitting by the bed, bent over her book, focus entirely on it but her arm was stretched out and she had her fingers curled around Malachi’s forearm.

And Malachi’s light brown eyes were open, his head slightly turned on the pillow and his focus was entirely on Faye reading to him.

But even with the bruising on his face, it was plain to see he thought God had sent an angel to his bedside to tell him a story.

Chace felt his throat close and held perfectly still.

Then Malachi’s eyes shifted to him and his entire body got visibly tight.

“Faye,” Chace called gently, she stopped reading and her head came up.

But as she began to turn her head to look at him, she saw Malachi.

He saw in profile as her face got soft and her lips parted right before she whispered, “Malachi.”

His eyes shifted to her with barely a movement of his head.

She rose to a squat above her chair. Leaning in partially she kept her voice at a whisper when she said, “Hey there, honey. You sure took a long nap. We were getting worried. Welcome back.”

He just looked at her.

“I’m Faye,” she told him. “But you know me, don’t you?”

He didn’t say a word or move his eyes from her.

Faye kept going.

“That’s Chace, I told you about him. Chace Keaton. He works at the Police Station. He’s a detective. He bought you your Swiss army knife and your sleeping bag and some of your food. Remember?”

Malachi didn’t move or speak.

Faye didn’t give up.

“Over there, that’s my Mom. Her name is Sondra Goodknight. She brought you some warm pajamas that they said when they move you out of here, you can wear.”

Malachi kept looking at Faye a second then his head turned on the pillow for a glance at Sondra before he looked back at Faye.

Sondra got up, got close to the bed, Malachi’s eyes moved back to her and she reached out two fingers to touch the blanket by his side but not him.

“Nice to meet you, Malachi,” she said gently. “Now, I’m going to go get the nurse. They need to know you’re awake. All right?”

Malachi didn’t answer. Sondra looked to Faye then to Chace then she moved slowly out of the room.

Chace took a step toward the bed but stopped when Malachi’s eyes shot to him and his body stiffened.

Faye noticed it too. She came up fully out of the chair but stayed bent to him.

“He’s okay, honey. Chace is a good guy. I promise. He’s a good guy.”

Chace forced his voice to very quiet when he said to the both of them. “I’m good right here. Malachi can tell me when he’s okay with me bein’ closer.”

Faye had turned her head his way and she nodded then she looked back at Malachi.

“See? Chace is a good guy, honey. You can trust him but he’s such a good guy, you can take your time doing that and he’ll be patient. Promise.”

The nurse came in and she was smiling at Malachi. “Well, look at you, awake and showing us your pretty, brown eyes.”

Malachi watched her warily as she approached his bed until Faye straightened and his eyes cut back to her in a way that made Chace’s body get tight.

“I called the doctor,” the nurse said. “She’ll be in soon and, I’m sorry but we’ll need room, Malachi will need privacy and visiting hours –”

“It’s okay,” Faye cut her off. “We’ll give you what you need.”

She leaned back down to Malachi, Chace braced and it happened when she told him, “I’ll be back tomorrow to read –”

His body knifed up, his bandaged hand darted out and batted at the book in her hand which fell to the mattress then he lunged toward her and rounded her neck with his arm with such force, he took her torso into him at the bed.

“Fuck,” Chace whispered, starting toward the bed but the nurse was on them and looking at Chace.

“Get another nurse.”

Chace turned instantly and moved to get the nurse, not wasting any time and when they rushed back, Faye was sitting on the bed, bent deep into Malachi, his arm still tight around her neck and she was murmuring to him.

The other nurse approached immediately.

“Maybe you can explain this attachment,” she whispered.

Chace didn’t delay. “She’s been feedin’ him and keepin’ him in books. They met five minutes ago for the first time but that doesn’t mean she’s not the only thing he’s got.”

“Right,” she whispered and moved toward Faye and Malachi.

Chace approached cautiously and was careful to stop where he’d stopped before, no closer.

“I’ll be back, buddy,” he heard Faye whisper. “Tomorrow. First thing. I promise.”

Malachi didn’t say anything and kept his arm tight around her.

The nurses stared over the bed at each other, clearly uncertain whether to intervene or allow Faye to pull it off.

“Okay,” Faye whispered. “This is what I need, honey. I need you to look out for yourself a little while longer and right now that means I’m worried about your hands. I don’t want you harming yourself. You have to let me go so the nurses can look after you and the doctor can see you. I need that from you, Malachi. Tomorrow, I promise, honey, swear, cross my heart, I’ll be back. Until then, you… are… safe. Totally safe, Malachi. I wouldn’t lie to you about something as important as that. Promise. Do you believe me?”

No sound, no movement, everyone was still for several long moments then Malachi’s arm relaxed and he lay back in bed.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Faye whispered then moved to her feet while stretching her arm out to put the book on the nightstand and Malachi became agitated again.

His eyes on the book in Faye’s hand, he banged his elbow repeatedly in the bed while his legs shifted under the covers and strange, animal-like noises sounded low from the back of his throat. The nurses moved, one to put a hand on his shoulder, one to put hers gently to his legs.

“What, buddy?” Faye asked and he shook his head back and forth, slamming his elbow into the bed, continuing to make those noises. “Malachi, please, honey, stop doing that. You’ll hurt yourself. Calm down and talk to me. What?”

Sheer intuition made Chace move swiftly. Not closing in on the bed, he rounded Faye at the back, pulled the book out of her hand then leaned into her, taking her with him, using her as Malachi’s shield against him as he shoved the book under Malachi’s flailing arm and tucked it to his side.

Malachi’s arm instantly stopped moving but shifted to trap the book tight there and he settled.

“You want your book,” Faye whispered.

Malachi took in a deep breath, his eyes locked to Faye.

Then he nodded once.

Jesus, this kid had been fucked up.

Jesus.

A feeling he did not like gnawing at his gut, Chace straightened away from Faye and caught the gaze of one of the nurses.

“Do not take that book away,” he ordered and she nodded instantly.

“You see,” Faye said quietly to Malachi. “You’ll have that until you have me again. Okay?”

Malachi held her eyes and didn’t move.

She ignored this and whispered, “Okay.”

Then she lifted her hand and ran it through his hair before she straightened away.

“See you soon, honey,” she said softly.

He swallowed, his eyes darted to the nurses then back to Faye.

Then he nodded.

“My brave Malachi,” Faye whispered, reached out a hand, touched his bicep then she looked through the nurses, bent, grabbed her purse, smiled at Malachi and, finally, her hand found his and closed around it so tight, he felt pain.

“Later, buddy,” Chace murmured and Malachi looked to him but said not a word.

They passed Dr. Hughes who was hurrying in and so intent to get to Malachi, she only jerked up her chin at them on her way. Faye didn’t notice. She walked out, her neck twisted to look back at Malachi.

She finally lost sight of him and looked forward but she didn’t speak.

Chace led her to her parents. The instant they stopped close, Silas spoke.

“Rosalinda’s. My treat. Liza, Boyd and the boys are meetin’ us there.”

Chace stayed silent, letting Faye decide their evening plans.

“Sounds good,” she said quietly.

There was her decision. She needed family.

So she’d get it.

“Right,” Silas muttered, taking all that was Faye in carefully as Sondra silently did the same then Silas looked up to Chace. “Liza and Boyd have hit the road. So should we. Meet you there.”

Chace nodded, got a clap on his arm from Silas, a smile from Sondra after she kissed her daughter’s cheek. They followed them to the elevator and walked out to the parking lot together.

Sondra and Silas separated from them to head to the Wrangler and they both did this on waves.

Chace jerked up his chin as Faye waved back and he walked with her to the passenger side of his Yukon.

“Beep, honey,” she muttered, her eyes on the door but Chace used his hand in hers, his other hand going to her waist to assist and he turned her, back to the truck and moved in.

Her surprised eyes lifted to his.

“Assure me you’re all right,” he demanded.

“I –”

“He’s fucked up, Faye, and that was intense. But he’s nine. He’s got you, he’s got me, your parents, your family, a doctor who I’ve been told is highly skilled and gives a shit and nurses who handle him with care. Once he’s outta there, he’s got everything when he had nothing. He’s young enough that no matter what fucked up shit he’s endured, he can be guided out of that into trusting something good. It’s new. He freaked. He’s latched onto you. But that will subside, darlin’. We’ll work it and he’ll be okay.”

“Chace, I’m fine. Just hungry.”

He blinked at her words and calm tone after her hand nearly crushed the bones in his then he studied her face in parking lot lights.

After he did this awhile, he told her, “You cannot keep shit buried. We got a long row to hoe with this. You give him strength, you unload on me the shit that causes in you so you can give it to him. Starting now. Deal?”

She leaned into him, got up on her toes and whispered, “Chace. I’m fine.”

“Baby –”

“Except I need a burrito. Stat.”

Chace stared at her.

She lifted her hand and curled it around the side of his neck.

“Two days ago,” she said softly, “not knowing where he was and the state of him, I was not fine. Now, he’s messed up but he’s safe and I know where he is so, I promise, honey, I’m… fine.”

She held his gaze as he tried to read hers.

Then she stopped giving him time and stated, “Feed me. If you don’t, all the way to Rosalinda’s, I’m explaining the entirety of the history of Angel, the vampire with a soul given to him by gypsies as punishment for him killing one of their own. This history will range from Buffy, The Vampire Slayer through to Angel, his own TV show. I’ll also add my opinions on why they should never have cancelled Angel. I’ll tell you now, this is multi-part and doesn’t all have to do with the fact that David Boreanaz is hot. And, if you delay, I might even have time to get into why I think Joss Whedon should be recommended for sainthood.”

She had her moment.

Now she was fine.

So Chace dug into his jeans, pulled out his keys and beeped the locks.

Faye grinned.

Chace bent his head and touched his mouth to hers.

They heard a short honk of a car horn and they both turned their heads to see Sondra and Silas in the Wrangler driving past, Sondra giving them a wave.

Faye waved back as Chace reached around her to open her door.

He closed it after she climbed in.

Then he rounded the hood, folded in and took his woman to have a meal with her family.

She was finding it even though Chace was going slow, gentle, loving the feel of her, the smell of her, the sounds she was making.

But he knew by the noises, the way her body was shifting under his, the way she was tilting her hips with each stroke to get more of him and the fact that she wrapped one leg around his ass and pressed the inside of her other thigh against his hip that it was building.

He slid his lips from her neck over her jaw to take her mouth in a deep, slow kiss as his hand found her arm, slid down and wrapped around her wrist to pull it from around him. He twisted his hand, linked fingers with hers then pressed their hands into the bed, also moving so his forearm would take his weight.

He kept kissing her, thrusting deep but sweet and slow as he moved his other hand to find her arm and pull it from around her. Sliding his hand down to hers, he shifted it to her side, pressing her hand flat against her skin, gliding it up, in, up then, his hand over hers, he cupped her breast with it.

His thumb moving hers, he rubbed it tight over her hard nipple

And he got it. Her hips jerked, she gasped against his tongue, her leg tightened around his ass and she came.

Fuck, he loved that about her. Fast and hard or slow and sweet, she found it with just his tongue, her nipple and his cock.

Sometimes just his tongue and cock.

He moved faster, kept kissing her, thrusting harder and she took him, tipping up for him, giving him all of her as she kissed him back until he thrust deep, stayed planted and poured himself inside her as he groaned down her throat.

Fucking magnificent.

When he came down he found she was running the tip of her tongue along his lower lip, something he liked, something he liked to do to her, something he taught her.

Then again, he’d taught her everything.

She was his in every way she could be, his in a way most men never got a shot at.

His.

Yes.

Fucking magnificent.

His tongue gently pushed hers back into her mouth so he could kiss her deep, slow and long before he let her mouth go and trailed his lips back to her neck.

She’d wrapped her arm around him again and she moved her foot that was in the bed in order to wrap her leg around the back of his thigh.

Their hands were still linked in the bed beside her.

He’d fucked a lot. He’d also made love. It couldn’t be said there weren’t women he’d cared about that he’d shared quiet moments like this with, as close as they could get.

But none of them felt like Faye. None of them smelled like her. None of them tasted like her. None of them curled their fingers between his quite as tight. None of them felt nearly as sweet wrapped around him, their soft bodies pressed under his, taking his weight. None of them, after taking her, made him feel clean and like everything was right in the world as long as her body was in his bed.

Not one.

Not even close.

“So, debriefing way late, dinner with your family went good…” he paused, “both times.”

He muttered this against the skin of her neck, felt her body give a soft jerk of surprise under his then he heard a soft giggle escape her throat.

That felt good. It sounded good. Like everything was right in the world, just because they were together in his bed, even when everything was not.

She’d give him that if she was twenty-nine or seventy-nine and he knew that right down to his soul.

He lifted his head and looked down at her to see she was smiling.

“Maybe for you,” she replied. “I found it annoying.”

“Just so you know, I get a second, I’m hiding the scissors,” he informed her.

“That actually didn’t happen.”

He grinned and dipped his face close. “Faye, you’re lying.”

Her eyes shifted side to side before she muttered, “Well, if it did, I blocked it out.”

They came back to him when he stated, “That I believe.”

“I’m the middle child,” she began to defend herself. “Liza and Jude always ganged up on me.”

“That I believe too.”

“So, if I were to wield scissors, it was probably necessary. Self-defense.”

“That, sorry to say, darlin’, doesn’t jive.”

She rolled her eyes and muttered, “Whatever.”

“Baby,” he called softly and when she looked back at him, he told her quietly. “Told you I’d love ‘em.”

Her eyes went hooded, the tip of her tongue slid out to lick her lips then she whispered, “Good. I’m glad.”

He’d seen her tongue so he dropped his head to retrace its path.

When he lifted his head, her eyes were still hooded but the look on her face was entirely different. A look he was coming to know. A look he liked.

“You want more, baby?” he asked gently.

Her teeth came out to bite her bottom lip briefly before she let it go and whispered, “You have to go to work tomorrow.”

She lost her mind when he had his mouth between her legs. Even just coming, it’d take him fifteen minutes, she’d come just as hard or harder and he’d still get decent shuteye.

Worth it. Absolutely.

He bent his neck, kissed her earlobe and in her ear, ordered in a whisper, “Go clean up. Come back, I’ll give you more and eat you.”

Her head turned slightly so her lips were at his neck even as her three limbs convulsed around him and her fingers laced with his tightened.

“Yeah?” she whispered.

Fuck, he was still partly hard inside her, just came and his dick still twitched at that one, breathy word filled with want from his girl.

“Yeah,” he whispered back.

“Slide out, Chace,” she breathed and slowly, he slid out.

Slowly, she slid her lips up his neck.

Change of plans. Eat her until she found it. Then fuck her until he did and hopefully she did again.

He kissed her shoulder and rolled off.

She gave him a small, semi-shy grin then hustled her ass to his bathroom.

When she came back, not yet completely comfortable with her nudity in front of him, she was wrapped in his robe that was on a hook on the back of his bathroom door.

His mother bought him that robe post-Misty. Somehow when she was over, she’d discovered his old one was gone, this being because Misty, in the beginning, had taken to wearing it. So when her shit went, his old robe went too.

Another woman had worn the robe Faye now wore. He didn’t like that and made a mental note to get rid of it and get another that was just hers.

She left it on when she crawled into bed.

Which meant he got to take it off.

This he did ten minutes later.

Ten minutes after that, after he’d made her come, he was back inside her to find it himself.

And just like Faye always did, she found it again too.