Keeping Denver by Sandy Alvarez & Crystal Daniels

Author:Sandy Alvarez & Crystal Daniels [Alvarez, Sandy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-01-07T18:30:00+00:00

Later that evening, I'm lying on the couch with my head resting on a pillow after spending most of my day lazing around watching Callan work on his laptop and make phone calls. "How did you know where to find me last night?" I don't know why I haven't asked this question already.

Closing his laptop, Callan sets it on the table in front of him. "I had my driver turn around and attempt to follow you. You were so angry about having to stay late after work, and it continued to nag at me. At first, I thought you were acting irrationally, but quickly realized that's not you. In the weeks you have worked for me, not once have you complained." Callan shakes his head. "My gut was telling me something was off. I told myself to at least see you got home okay. By the time I had the driver turn around to find you, you were gone. We drove around for hours, until I caught sight of two men walking from between the two buildings where we found you. I wouldn't have given them a second thought until I recognized the bag in one man's hand to be yours."

My mind drifts back to the vague awareness of the men Callan may be referencing. "I remember hearing voices." I drop my eyes to my lap, "Whoever they were, they had stolen the only possessions I owned."

Callan clears his throat, and scoots to the edge of the sofa, leaning his elbows on his knees. "I don't want to be presumptuous, but why not get a hotel when you found you couldn't stay at the shelter?"

I hang my head. "I had found an apartment. It wasn't in a good part of town, but I liked it well enough. The guy who claimed to be the apartment manager seemed nice enough too." I wring my hands together, and sigh. "Anyway, I went back the next day with the key, ready to move in, only to find he wasn't the manager. He had taken my money and skipped town. I left with no money and no apartment. It's my fault really for being so stupid."

"It is not your fault you were taken advantage of, Denver. You're far from stupid," Callan growls, his anger over my admission apparent. Standing, Callan makes his way to the bar at the corner of the living room and fixes a tumbler of whiskey. "Tell me your story, Denver. I want to know everything there is to know about you. The real you." I watch him pour a small amount of white wine into a glass, before walking back to the sofa and handing it to me. Callan sits beside me, relaxing into the back cushion, and takes a sip of his drink.

Sitting up on the couch, I run my sweaty palm up and down my thighs. I don't trust easily, but with Callan, I feel I can trust him with all the ugly parts of me.

"Tell me about your family.

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