“You won't forget me, right?" I tried to play it light so maybe he wouldn't see just how scared I was for tomorrow.For a second, the corners of his eyes pinched. Then he sat up, and I backed onto my knees. His hands straightened my T-shirt, tugging it down."No," he said. His face darkened. "I don't think it's possible to forget you.”

“It was you," I say softly. "It's always you I think about."The intensity in his gaze took my breath away. I could feel him. Every part of him. His soul was sewn to mine. His heated blood flowed through my veins. I'd thought that I had been close to my mother, and I was, but not like this. Chase and I barely touched- our hands, mouths, knees- but there was no part of me that was not his.”

“Don't do that again! Not ever again!" I told him."I should say the same to you," he said. I could feel his breath, warm on my neck. "Promise me!" I demanded."I... I promise.""I can't lose you.”

“Losing your family….it puts fear in a different perspective,” he said. “Besides, I got by all right. I stayed on the fringe around Chicago, hoped around tent cities and Red Cross camps. Worked for some people who didn’t ask questions. Avoided case-workers and foster care. And thought about you.”“Me?” I huffed, completely unsettled. In awe at how vanilla my life seemed. In awe of what he’d endured, He turned then, meeting my eyes for the first time. When he spoke, his voice was gentle, and unashamed. “You. The only thing in my life that doesn’t change. When everything went to hell, you were all I had.”

“The fear, momentarily paused, returned with full force, and in this frantic, baffled state I ran to him, and leapt into his arms. He seemed surprised at first but soon was squeezing back. "It's all right," he soothed. "No one's hurt. You're okay."His words sliced through me, and for the first time since he'd taken me from school, I knew the truth about us: I could not be okay if he was not okay. Pain, nightmares, fighting- all of it aside- he was a part of me.”

“He put a hand on his throat, as though trying to stop the words, but they came anyway. "You're home. To me.”

“He got closer and I would have stepped back, but his hand came to thee side of my neck, his long fingers sliding up and into my hair behind my ear. His fingers were covered in a leather glove, but it still felt good, good enough to root me to the spot.He dipped his face closer to mine and whispered, "What're you worried about, baby?"I took in a breath, let it out and for some reason whispered back honestly, "It's just scary.""I won't let you get hurt.""But-""Nina, I promise. I won't let you get hurt."I looked into his eyes and saw they were serious. He wasn't teasing, he wasn't impatient, he wasn't annoyed and he didn't think I was a scaredy-cat. He was just...serious."Okay," I whispered.”