The Year of the Rat
by Nico Grey
Chapter 15
"I've really missed you, Rad." Mike's eyes were pleading. "When can you come back?"
Now that was an 'oh my god!' moment. I had lived an awful lot in the past half year. I was undead now, for heaven's sake! But I really wasn't prepared for that moment.
I did the only thing I could do. I wrapped my arms around his neck. I pulled him into a deep embrace. I nibbled on his lip, too. That was only fair!
We said an awful lot in those next few minutes, without ever speaking a word. I felt even better than if I had returned to my family home and found that everyone there had really missed me and had been mourning for me all of the past year.
It was much better than that. This was Mike. This was my real home; in his arms, but especially in his heart.
It tore at my heart when I had to leave. I promised Mike that I would be back the next night. And the next night. And the night after that.
Eventually, I would return to our nest. It just couldn't be yet. But I knew that the pressure was really on for me to figure that piece out. It had to happen now.
I wanted to say or do something more. But I couldn't think of anything that would ease my departure.
I kissed him again. I squeezed him harder. But eventually our desires had to give way to necessity.
He lay back into his nest... our nest. I bent over him. I brushed back the hair from his neck. I kissed it. I kissed his cheek. I kissed his lips.
"Tomorrow night," I promised him. "I love you, Mike. Always."
Jebby was waiting when I crawled back through the passage in the wall. He didn't remark on the time I had been away. Maybe he thought it had only been an hour.
I stripped off my clothes. I hadn't forgotten. I crawled into the nest beside him. I pressed my skin firmly against his skin. I wrapped my arms around him.
Somewhere between that moment and when I fell asleep, we kissed. We kissed deeply. Then I slept.
I hope that Jebby didn't notice any emotional distance. He and I did everything together for the next few days. We played in Gateway Park and on the Pier. We spent time with Taryn and with Dylan. We worked in Grant Park twice. We shopped together. He joined me in the upper level of the church when I felt the need to pray. We even made extremely passionate love one night.
But during all the time I spent with Jebby, I was always looking forward to the end of the night. I would leave him in the nest, reading by lantern light. His clothes were always piled neatly next to the nest, while he waited eagerly inside for me to return.
In the intervening months since we had last lived together, something had changed between Mike and me. It wasn't a bad thing.
Where Mike had once felt the need to protect me, now he seemed to view us as fairly equal. He knew that I had gone back to working at Grant Park and never brought it up. Where he had always provided for me, he accepted now that I was providing for him. I'm sure he didn't view that as a permanent change, but he did accept it without apparent embarrassment or protest.
Where Mike had once viewed his role as protecting me until he could find some way to help me return to a normal life, I think he had accepted that wasn't likely to happen now. He understood that I wasn't innocent any longer. He knew that I was capable of caring for myself, if necessary.
That shift in our roles toward equality allowed us to navigate some waters together that had been closed before. Mike began to share more about his past. He realized that I might have access to resources or information that might help him figure out how to create a future for himself.
We talked about a lot of things that were difficult subjects before we became more equal. We explored some subjects that were completely taboo while he viewed himself as my protector. We began to consider our love for each other as more of an equal proposition — with all of the possibilities that opened up.
It may have been the voyeur in me, or maybe the rat hadn't gone away completely, but I really wanted to learn more about Mike's past. He was a wonderful person. He cared so much about other people. He was really good looking. He was a talented artist. How could someone with so much going for him end up abandoned on the streets of Chicago?
It was gratifying when he began to share that story with me. It opened another chamber in my heart. It added trust to the affection and paternal love that he already held for me.
Mike's life in Canada wasn't that much different from my life or Jebby's. It was just another variation on the ways that adults sometimes fail children.
Mike had never known his father. He wasn't sure that his mother had either.
She was another story. She had problems with alcohol, sometimes with drugs. She neglected him. For much of the first nine years of his life, he often had to care for himself. It was really beyond the capacity of a child, even a nine-year-old, but Mike had developed some skills for self-care.
Eventually, public authorities became involved in Mike's life. Adults at school noticed a small but talented child who never seemed to have the proper clothing, was often unfed, and didn't seem to know how to keep his clothes and himself clean. They notified the authorities, who investigated.
Mike ended up being removed from his mother's care. He wasn't sure, but he thought she had ended up in state care.
He lived with his grandmother for more than three years. She did her best to care for Mike. But her health had been failing for years and eventually she wasn't able to give him the support that he needed.
He ended up living with an aunt.
"She was okay, I guess," Mike told me. "I was family and that made me her responsibility. But I don't think she ever loved me."
He paused and looked really sad for a second. It made me wonder if anyone had ever really loved him.
"She didn't love me," he repeated, "but her husband did. A little too much. He hated the things he did because of it. He couldn't hate himself, so he ended up hating me.
"He loved me and he hated me. Isn't that weird?" He shook his head in bewilderment. "And I really couldn't stay there any more after a while."
This was the really screwed up part. His uncle planned a trip to the United States. Something just for him and Mike. He told the family that they would be back in a week.
When they got to this country, he just left Mike here.
"He gave me a few hundred dollars and just left me. Standing right there outside Gateway Park," he gestured in the general direction. "He told me that my nature — that's what he called it, 'my nature' — would help me figure out what to do to survive before the money was gone. Then he went back to Canada."
Mike had withdrawn into himself, revisiting his past. His head was shaking like he was thoroughly confused by what had happened. And to be fair, I couldn't understand it either. Adults didn't treat kids like that in any world I had ever heard about.
"I don't know how he explained what happened to me. He probably told my aunt that I had run away."
He stopped to think for a second.
"That was probably it. I know that he told everyone we were spending the week in Detroit. But he left me in Chicago. I guess he knew it would be hard to find me if everyone is looking in Detroit, so he probably wouldn't have anything to worry about.
"Really, I doubt my aunt cared very much As long as she could believe that I chose to run away, if it was my fault, that was just one less thing getting in the way of her living life the way she wanted to."
That was outrageous! I knew that my story was bad. Jebby's was terrible. But to just abandon a kid in a foreign country without any way to survive? I couldn't imagine anything much worse.
"With my uncle, much as I hated the way he treated me, I didn't really mind doing the things he made me do. You know," he looked toward his feet, "the sex things.
"I hadn't thought about that sort of thing before I moved in with him and my aunt. Not really, I mean. But when he did that stuff to me, my body responded. So maybe he was right and it was my fault."
That was hard for me to hear. What a twisted thing for a grownup to do to a kid! The guy abused Mike. Then he blamed Mike for what had happened.
I know that Jebby had blamed me for the way I made him feel. But Jebby was only ten at the time. He didn't understand anything except the poison that his parents and church had filled him with.
Mike's uncle was an adult. He knew better. But he had manipulated Mike so he could have his way with him. Then he had manipulated Mike into blaming himself for it.
I knew it wasn't very likely, but I hoped that someday I would meet Mike's uncle in Grant Park.
"At least what he taught me gave me a way to live," Mike smiled wryly. "I wouldn't have made it here without the money I earned."
That really sucked. I know he didn't intend it, but that sent me on a guilt trip. Because I wouldn't have survived either if Mike hadn't been earning that money.
"I'm sorry, Mike". It wasn't much. But I really meant it. I was sorry. Mike deserved so much better than life had given him so far. My vision started to get blurry.
Conversations were sometimes depressing. We both knew that the life we were living was leading nowhere. I hated it that Mike had so much ability that might never find an outlet.
I don't know how much ability Jebby and I had. But we weren't going to make anything of our lives just sitting in a church basement and selling our bodies to buy dinner.
It all seemed terribly and frustratingly unfair. We weren't the only kids in such a fix. We had met dozens of them, just working in Grant Park. But it was the waste of our lives that impacted me the most.
Having to say goodbye to Mike at the end of each visit was depressing. But it was also the highlight of the evening.
We had graduated from the brief kissing ritual that had been ending my visits, to what amounted to extended hug and make-out sessions. Sometimes I just melted into Mike's body and adhered to him for ten or fifteen minutes at a time. There might have even been some groping.
It was better than sex. His body pressed so close to mine that it felt like we shared the same space, our lips dancing passionately, our tongues writhing together as we explored each other's mouths, hands roaming desperately all up and down bodies. This was Mike. I loved him more than I loved myself. And I was finally free to take possession of what I cherished so intensely.
I wasn't just delighted that Mike was now willing to share such physical intimacy with me, I was ecstatic! I had loved Mike for as long as we had been living together, that feeling growing stronger with each passing day. But since the day I had seen him naked in Grant Park, I had dreamed of this profound sharing of our bodies.
And we hadn't even experienced real sex yet. Physical contact with Mike was arousing. I could tell that he felt the same way. Occasionally, I even experienced some release.
Leaving him at the end of each night was agonizing. I just hadn't figured out a way to explain to him why I had to live my life away from the light. Mike had been so understanding of all my weaknesses, my flaws, my failures. I just didn't know how I could tell him about this one. It seemed awfully big.
Jebby knew where I was disappearing to. I couldn't hide that from him forever. He probably could even sense the sexual energy oozing from my pores when I returned from visiting Mike.
But he didn't complain. He just took what I offered when I slipped into the nest beside him. He gave back far more than I expected. Even more, I suspect, than I deserved.
I was beginning to sense a real dilemma. I had warned Jebby. He understood and expected nothing more from me. But I was coming to understand that he was starting to love me just as desperately as I loved Mike. I couldn't take that without giving him something of equal value in return. I just hoped that I would have something left to share with him after Mike had received everything from me that I wanted to give him.
Taryn continued to be a godsend. I was aware that he had his own problems. He worried about his boyfriend, Justin, who was turning into some sort of vampire superhero. That might sound great until you stop to think about the sorts of problems that superheroes are expected to solve.
There was still this Rage character challenging him. It seemed that he was treating Taryn's boyfriend as his personal nemesis. And apparently Rage was pretty tough. He was sort of an anti-hero, or a super-villain.
Whenever Justin was off dealing with some mischief, Taryn worried. When Justin was stressing out over training with some powerful vampire called Comicality, Taryn was stressed out. But he continued to be there when I really needed him.
Sometimes he kept Jebby company if I needed to do some vampire business. Often he was my personal counselor, sharing information I needed to know about Vampire World or helping to guide me through those difficult decisions I struggled with as a young and inexperienced vampire.
He continued to help me try to figure out my extra. Apparently it wasn't unusual for a vampire's extra to take a little while to manifest. But it was very unusual to take as long as mine had. He started to think that I already had my extra, but that we just hadn't recognized it for what it was.
I let him into my mind every time we met. He was fascinated by the process. I think he was also interested in experiencing through my own mind some of the things I did. In a way, I suppose my life was pretty unusual. Even for a street kid.
Taryn was really surprised to learn about the things that Dylan had stored in my mind. He wasn't able to just stumble over them while sifting through my memories. But when I directed him to them, he could see that something was there.
I dissuaded him from pursuing those memories. Dylan hadn't mentioned leaving anything for me. Maybe he had done it accidentally. He was so reserved, I really didn't want to bring it up unless he mentioned it first. I worried that it might upset him if we confronted him about something as personal as his memories.
Taryn was interested in finding out whether he could leave some of his own memories in my mind. It took us a while to find a method that worked. But I ended up with a small handful of Taryn's memories, and a lot of information that he considered necessary for my survival in Vampire World, stored right alongside my own memories.
I was wondering if I might have trouble distinguishing Taryn's memories, or Dylan's, from my own memories. That seemed like something that could become confusing if too much was shared with me.
It could even drive me crazy if I had complete, first-person recall of maybe thousands of events that I hadn't actually been part of. That was something I knew I would have to figure out soon. I didn't think Dylan had left any memories of something personal he had done with his boyfriend. But how weird would it be if I was chatting with Dion and suddenly started thinking about the time that we... Yeah. Awkward!
When I started to worry about the possibilities with Taryn, a light bulb went off in his mind. He began to realize just how big that this thing I had could become. From that point on, he spoke of it as my extra. We couldn't really define it, but Taryn thought it might turn out to be a really amazing extra once we figured out what it was and how to use it.
Personally, I would have been perfectly happy with super speed.
Jebby and I worked Grant Park together two or three times each week. I did it for the money. Jebby did it because he believed that he should share the workload with me. I really wanted to make him stay home. But I knew how I had felt when Mike refused to let me help him.
I didn't feel good about letting Jebby work like that. I remembered that guy in the restroom and the four kids that I knew he had killed. It was a question of Jebby's self-respect, and probably his love for me, balanced against what felt to me like an awfully big risk.
I never let Jebby work unless I went with him. And fortunately, that was a compromise he was all too happy to accept. But I was still intensely anxious every time he went behind those buildings without me.
Working with Jebby also started to get a little weird. It wasn't unusual for an employer to hire two boys to work for him. It was far more common for a man to hire one worker, but three or four times on an average night someone would hire two boys. When Jebby and I worked, I noticed that men were asking for both of us at least once a night, and sometimes three or four times. I couldn't figure that out.
We had been working together two or three weeks when that picture finally came into focus.
Most of the time a man looking to hire a boy or two was alone. I think it was the pervert code, or something. It probably wasn't the sort of recreational activity where you'd invite all the guys at the office to join you for an evening out.
Seven of us were cautiously eyeing the two young men who approached us. They didn't look to be much more than college age. And it wasn't unheard of for frat boys to do a bit of gay bashing. Two on seven wasn't the sort of odds they usually preferred, but you still had to be careful. I think most of us expected that they would probably just veer off into the men's room before they reached us.
One of the guys started to look excited. He poked his partner a little too enthusiastically, pointing in our direction. And my antenna started to go up.
They seemed fairly well dressed for frat boys out for an evening of mischief. But both of them were pretty big. The blond guy was built, too. I was wary.
Their voices didn't carry to most of the guys gathered with me. But I could hear them.
"It's them," the one with black hair, who was doing the poking, insisted.
His buddy didn't seem to know what his friend was talking about. Or why he was being poked.
"Those two kids in the video," the dark-haired guy hissed.
That got my attention. Were there surveillance cameras near the rest rooms? And why would that be exciting... unless they were out back!
Now that was a disturbing thought! But I had never seen anything that looked like cameras out there. You'd think that somebody would have noticed.
The dark-haired guy explained for me. "You remember that video I found online?"
I couldn't imagine which of us might be shooting movies on the side. That sort of work must pay decent money. Most of us in the crew weren't exactly rolling in it.
We were surprised when they didn't veer into the men's room. I was even more surprised when the guys walked right up to me. They looked to be eyeing me and Jebby.
I think the two guys were noobs. They didn't seem to understand how contracts were negotiated. Instead of inquiring about the menu, or even who was working, they just pointed at me and Jebby.
"We'll take these two," the dark-haired guy announced.
They'll 'take' us? Did they think they were visiting the pound? We weren't puppies!
I tried to redirect them and take control of the situation. I ran down my menu.
"No," the guy insisted. "We want you to do what you did in the video."
Now that was a shock! What video?!
I was tempted to shut them down. But Jebby and I were there to work. Rather than play twenty questions to find out what this idiot was talking about, I went straight to the source. I read his mind.
And oh my god! That video!
Our cowboy friend, Jebby's 'daddy', had apparently shared the video he shot of us. They had seen it online. We were famous!
Shit!
I should have called it a night right there and dragged Jebby home. I really should have taken some time to think about the situation. But we had come to work. And these two guys really had their hearts set on us.
They had a specific idea. At least it was going to pay well. And they gave us the cash up front. They said they were day traders. Apparently trading days pays pretty well. Certainly a lot better that trading blowjobs, if their bankroll was any indication.
They wanted Jebby and me to recreate our desire under the elms — or arborvitae — performance. They really liked that backdrop. They found it pretty damn inspiring, as it turned out.
The only fly in the ointment was Jebby. When he figured out what they wanted, and how they heard about it, he got stage fright. He wanted nothing to do with recreating that uncomfortable event.
As I thought about it, it had been his first time. It was pretty stressful, all things considered. So when they told him that they wanted him to take it up the butt again? Well, no! Not even with me giving it.
We had been paid three hundred apiece for a pretty simple proposition. The guys wanted to watch Jebby and I, just like in that damn video. There were just a couple of script edits, to make it more aesthetically pleasing.
They pretty much wanted us to eat each other for lunch first, before we really got down to business. They had found those kisses at the end of the movie highly arousing and they wanted us to take it a lot farther.
And then, when I was finished fucking Jebby, they wanted to clean us up. With their tongues. They had a thing for cleanliness.
And they thought it would be nice of us to clean them a little, too. They thought they might get a little messy watching us.
But Jebby was adamant. He was a bit of a diva. Star in one movie and you start thinking that everything revolves around what you want!
For six hundred dollars, I decided that I could swallow my pride. I checked with Jebby first. He didn't exactly give the suggestion a thumbs-up. But something went up fast enough to make it clear that he wasn't opposed to the idea.
So I asked the guys if Jebby and I could reverse roles. That wasn't what I had told the cowboy. But since then, Jebby had fucked me. And while this time we would have an audience, they didn't seem like bad sorts for a pair of perverts. I thought I could lower my standards one more notch for six hundred dollars. Rock bottom was starting to look pretty close.
I did make sure that the guys weren't directing a film of their own. They didn't have iPhones. Or video cameras. They let me frisk them. They thought that was fun.
And in the end, it was fun for all of us. Or as much fun as getting naked and letting two strangers watch you have sex with a friend can be.
They appreciated our performance. Their cleanup efforts were energetic. The dark-haired guy insisted on cleaning my butt very thoroughly. I guess I had probably had a tongue inside me before during rimming. But this guy had a tongue! It was long. And he was determined to make sure I was very clean. And really, I did enjoy it. So I guess I got two notches closer to rock bottom that night.
Jebby and I cleaned those two guys when they were through with us. They were a little messy. They told us that we had been inspiring.
When all the contractual stuff was complete, they thanked us. They were really grateful for our efforts. They were so nice about it that when one of the guys asked if he could take a couple of photos with his cell phone, we didn't mind. We even hammed it up a bit for the camera. Although I do wonder what any of our co-workers thought if they noticed those flashes going off back in the arborvitae.
When those two guys told us that they hoped to see us again sometime, I told them that I hoped to see them, too. And I really meant it. It wasn't the sort of thing that every American kid dreams of doing. But they treated us fair. They made sure that we had fun. And the job paid really well.
Back in front of the restrooms, we got a bit of attention from the rest of the crew. They were curious about what had appeared to be a special job. Jebby and I were coy. We let everyone know that we were satisfied with the transaction. There was no need to explain more.
Marco arrived while we were still fending off questions from the rest of our crew. He looked pretty stressed. He had been working every night that I worked, so I assumed he was probably on the seven days on- seven more days on schedule. I worried that it was starting to get to him.
Since I had already earned more than I usually did in an evening, I wasn't really looking for much additional work. I kept an eye on Marco. Whenever he seemed uncomfortable with a prospective employer, I volunteered my services. Most employers were happy to get two for the price of one. This was America, after all.
A couple of times, Jebby jumped in before I could. He really wanted to help. I think he kind of liked Marco. I just made sure that I had a good read on the intentions of the employer before leaving Jebby and Marco to conduct their own business.
I worried about Jebby and the potential risks. But I was really proud of him for trying to help Marco.
On our walk home, Jebby was more subdued that usual. Instead of the near-constant chatter that was a feature of those walks when we were headed home from work, he appeared to be deep in his own mind. I wondered if he was having second thoughts about our two-some. He had seemed to enjoy it. He had seemed to enjoy it a lot. But maybe something was upsetting him after reflecting on events.
We had just crossed the Chicago River when he finally let me know what was bothering him.
"I think we need to help Marco."
I thought we had been helping him. Both of us were trying to make work less stressful for him; at least we were on those nights that we worked.
I wondered what Jebby knew.
"Marco's pimp has really been pressuring him to earn more money."
That was news. I didn't know that any of my co-workers had pimps. In fact, my understanding was that pimps helped to find employers for their workers. I wondered if Jebby had misunderstood.
"He told me that the guy hits him."
I thought Marco was reasonably honest. But that sounded like it might be a sob story.
Jebby insisted that it wasn't.
"He had bruises all over his back. There were belt marks on his legs. I saw them and asked him about them.
"He says that pimp wants him to start selling his butt again. Marco doesn't want to. So the guy hits him."
That... That was way over the line. I thought that maybe the guy should be someone's dinner. Dylan was due to hunt within a few days. But I needed more information.
I decided that I would return to the park the following night.
Jebby thought that was a good idea. We would work the park.
That pushed a few buttons in my heart. I worried about Jebby. But mostly, I was simply proud of him.
After we arrived home, I visited the god in the chancel. Jebby joined me.
I didn't ask what he prayed for. I prayed for Mike. I prayed for Taryn and Dylan. I prayed for Father Maxwell. Of course I prayed for Jebby. And that night I started praying for Marco.
I worried that I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life. I had been wrestling for weeks with how to keep Mike a part of my life, despite being a child or darkness while he was a child of light. I still hadn't come up with a good solution. I just knew that the problem had to be resolved.
After Jebby and I finished praying in the chancel, we returned to our lair. We spent a little more time talking about how we could help Marco. That was a problem that Jebby was compelled to resolve.
He had only been with me for a few weeks, but they had been very intense weeks. It was good to see Jebby beginning to take an interest in something beyond his devotion to me. A casual connection with Taryn had been a first step. Then some contact with Dylan.
His concern about Marco went beyond that casual level of social engagement. He was starting to care about someone, not just for the social interaction, or because he believed that he owed them something, or even because he wanted something for himself. This mattered to Jebby because Marco was another human being who clearly needed someone to care about him.
Jebby could relate to Marco's need. He had similar experiences in his own past. There was a bond of sorts between them before they had even met.
The bond that Jebby was starting to build with Marco, I considered, was the product of empathy. It was a large step forward for him. He was building a human relationship that was only about what he could do for someone else. It had nothing at all to do with his own needs.
As I prepared to visit Mike, Jebby prepared for bed. He switched on a lantern and found a book to read. He took his clothes off and folded them carefully before placing them in a neat pile next to our nest. It was such a deliberate process. He gave me plenty of time to enjoy the view.
As he bent down to place his jeans and briefs on top of the pile, I had a mental image of him bending over to tie a shoelace in the park. But I didn't believe that was what he was doing. He wasn't trying to entice me. He wasn't asking anything of me.
Jebby just knew I liked the way his body looked and he was willing to share that with me. It was a message. Whatever he had, he would share with me, whenever I wanted it. I suppose that it was sexual. But more than that, I think it was love.
I was thinking about Jebby as I stole down the basement corridor to visit Mike. And I don't mean 'stole' in the sense that I was trying to be secretive. Mike knew I was coming. I was sure that he would already be awake and waiting for me.
Contemplating the way that Jebby loved me, his willingness to give whatever I wanted without demanding anything in return, put the thought in my mind. I loved Mike. Like Jebby with me, I should be willing to give Mike anything he wanted or needed, without any consideration for myself.
I was still afraid to tell him about my little health condition — being undead and all — but I should be able to give him whatever was best for him, no matter what it might cost me.
That reminded me of a saying I had once heard about setting someone free if you love them. Painful as the idea was to me, I wondered what Mike would be able to do with his life if he had the full freedom to do it.
There were a few things holding him back. I thought that I could remove at least two of those obstacles for him, if I just had the strength to do it.
Mike was awake when I entered his lair. He was working industriously in one of his sketch books. I waited for him to notice me.
Our conversation began with the usual concerns. First some physical contact to restore our connection. Then an inquiry about his day and mine, followed by a quick check on his supplies to see what was needed.
I think it bothered Mike that I was still providing for him. He was generous. He didn't complain. But I thought I could see some disappointment in his eyes. It was probably disappointment in himself.
I asked a few questions about his sketches. He was willing to show me images that he was working on from around the lake shore. I didn't ask about what he had in the rest of his books. It still shamed me a little that I had invaded his privacy before.
Our conversation turned to the renewal that early spring was bringing to the lake shore. We talked about scenes from the shore that he was hoping to sketch. I inquired about his plans.
It was a delicate subject to broach. Both Mike and I understood that our lives weren't going anywhere while we lived in the basement of an abandoned church. I knew that my life, at least in the way that most people think of it, was already over. I wanted to know what he would do with his if he had the opportunity.
He seemed perplexed by the question, so I made the offer more explicit. I reminded him that I had left almost three thousand dollars for him. I informed him that I had several thousand more. And I told him that it was all his, for whatever he needed.
He still didn't seem to understand the question, so I spelled it out for him. He could take the money and do whatever he wanted. He could go back to Canada. He wasn't stuck in the city. School, freedom, a future in the country he loved was waiting for him.
Mike was bewildered.
"Why would I want to go anywhere, Rad? Everything in the world that I love is right here."
It took me a while to regain control of my emotions. I'm sure, even with the contact lenses, that my eyes were glowing.
Even after Mike's admission, we didn't expand our sexual boundaries that night. In fact, we were less adventurous. There was less kissing, fondling and groping. I just held onto Mike. There was nothing more important in my world than the bond we shared.
I was still a bit teary as I retraced my steps back to my lair, where Jebby would be waiting for me. Less than a year ago, I had been bereft and adrift, completely alone and abandoned by the world. Now I was doubly blessed by love.
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