I am leaning back against a familiar chest. A man’s chest. Ben’s chest. I can’t see him of course, but I know these sensations well. I feel his ...hick, strong, slightly hairy arms wrap around me, embracing me from behind in a delicious bear hug. Instinctively, I relax and melt into Ben’s arms. I am safe and comfortable—for the first time in almost a year. I don’t want this feeling to end…ever.The sensation of Ben’s hot breath on my left ear and down my neck is exhilarating. He trails his right. Or worse. She hated him as well, that U.S. Marshall with the smug look of satisfaction. What he’d done. What he hadn’t. The guitar. Abandoned in a dark hallway in a Honky Tonky full of Dixies. Despite that though, despite all of it, she couldn’t bring herself to hate his presence. It was funny how that worked. It a twisted way, he was the only one who cared. Even though the reason was an abusive ex with a whip fetish currently sucking wind through a straw. A trail of adulteress husbands. More

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