A/N: Happy New Year!! And thanks guys!

Ben

We sat shoulder to shoulder in the room, and I realized Riley's eyelids were starting to droop. Not good. I knew I couldn't let him fall asleep with that concussion. He'd been unconscious long enough to scare me earlier, but I'd checked the lump at the back of his head. It was raised rather than indented, which was a good sign. But I had to keep him awake. I slowly raised myself up, ignoring the various parts of me that protested. "All right, let's look around. You want to help me out?"

He nodded and took my offered hand as I pulled him up. "Okay, you check the door and these walls. I'll look over here, and we can try to put together some plan to get out of here." I knew exactly what we would find. Nothing. I'd already been all over the room a dozen times while Riley was unconscious. But it was something to keep him occupied and awake and gave me the quiet I needed to think.

Our situation, unsurprisingly, did not look good. Half a million dollars. If it really was that much money on the line…a lump of fear sat uncomfortably in my gut. That much money could make a man do stupid things. I didn't know Kent Bishop, didn't know how far he was willing to go. He had never once, to my knowledge, said outright, "Do this or I'll kill you." He'd alluded to it, made plenty of other threats of harm, but he'd never said the words. Hopefully that was a good sign.

"You didn't happen to bring a few sticks of dynamite, did you?" Riley asked from his spot by the door.

"Must've left them in my other pants," I replied automatically, tapping on one of the walls.

"Cripes." We were silent for several minutes. "Ben, you've been in this room for hours. What is it you think we're going to find?"

As I said. He was a bright one. Too darn bright. I couldn't lie to him. "Nothing. But that's the point of looking. On the off-chance that I'm wrong."

He sent me this uncertain look. "When's the last time you were wrong?"

"This afternoon." At his questioning look, I went ahead and finished the thought. "When I didn't knock that guy's lights out."

He actually giggled and went back to the door. Pressing his ear against it, he listened, blue eyes zoning out as he moved all available brain power to his sense of hearing. Looked like he quit breathing. I tilted my head to one side. Walking up next to him, I pressed my ear against the smooth, white-washed wood. I couldn't hear anything. "What do you…"

He cut me off with a raised index finger. He went back to listening. This went on for a few minutes, his eyes widening, it seemed, with every passing moment. Finally, he jerked his head back. "They're coming back," he whispered. A moment later I heard a door open and their feet on the stairs.

I shot Riley a look. "Thank you, Radar O'Reilly."

"Just 'Riley' will be fine." Despite the glib response, his eyes looked panicked, darting around the room fast enough to make me dizzy. Then they landed on the ceiling.

"How'd you hear that?" I asked.

"Spent a lot of time in basements growing up," he answered quickly. Without a word, he walked to the center of the room and jumped up, grabbing the brown metal of the small vent cover. Took him another hop to pull it down. The vent wasn't more than four inches by eight inches. I wasn't sure what he thought he could get out of a hole that small. Until I realized he wasn't interested in the hole in the ceiling. He just wanted that metal grate. That sharp metal grate. He slid it up the sleeve of his coat. He looked like he was trying not to look as frightened as he looked.

That worried me. "Did you hear something else? Riley?"

He shook his head, whether in a negative response or just to get me to stop talking I couldn't be sure. In either case, I didn't have time for any more questions. The door opened. Riley took a step forward, standing next to me, body slightly angled so he could watch me and the men at the door at the same time, hands fisted lightly at his sides.

Our captors, such as they were, stood in the doorway. Guns were drawn. It was Bishop who spoke. He seemed angry. Nervous. "We're going to school. Somebody asks you about that black eye, you tell them you got it in a flag football game."

Riley raised an eyebrow. "'Cause no one's going to have a hard time believing that…"

"Shut up." He did. "You are going to go to admissions and sign yourself out of this school. Your friend will stay with us. And if you do not do this…" There was a click as the gun cocked and the barrel was pressed into my chest.

"Okay. Okay, stop. I'll do it." Riley reached out slowly and pushed Kent's arm down. "I'll do it."

I shook my head. "Riley…"

"I'll do it," he said firmly, meeting my eyes. Then he looked at Kent. "What happens when I come out? He's not like me, Kent. People are gonna know if he goes missing too long."

When Kent didn't answer right away, Kenny spoke up. "Quit being so dramatic. You do what I want, then you walk away. We could care less what you do so long as we never hear from you. You want to call the police? Fine. Right now the three of us are at a pre-Thanksgiving party with a dozen witnesses. You couldn't do anything to us if you wanted to."

Riley nodded slowly, eyes never leaving Kent who suddenly seemed even edgier. "Fine," Riley said. "You wanting to go now?"

Kent stared at him for a long time. Again it was Kenny who answered. "Offices don't open till 8:00. It's seven now. We leave in half an hour. That going to work for you?"

"We'll try to squeeze it in," I answered when neither Riley nor Kent looked up from the staring contest they seemed to have going.

Kenny noticed it in his partner. He nudged Kent. "So come on."

"He knows," Kent whispered darkly. He was still looking Riley straight in the eyes. "You know."

Riley crossed his arms. "Know what?"

Teeth grinding, Kent's gun was suddenly pointed at Riley's chest. "Tell me what you know. Everything. Right now."

Riley's posture tightened, but he didn't even uncross his arms. "Everything I know?"

"Talk! Now!"

Don't say something stupid. "Well…my first word was 'crayon'…" Kent's face reddened as his hand tightened on the gun. I reacted. I grabbed Riley and turned him away at the same time I saw Kenny's arm flash out and knock the gun up. It discharged. I ducked and covered Riley's head, shielding him and shutting my eyes as the overhead light bulb exploded and the room shook with the sound as shards of hot glass rained down. There was a moment of silence before the shouting began.

"Kent, what are you doing?"

"I…I didn't mean…you hit my hand!"

"'Cause it looked like you were about to pull the trigger!"

"Qué ha hecho tú? Tú no los puede matar ahora!"

I eased slowly back from Riley. The only light in the room now came from outside the door, so it was harder to make out the look on his face. But to miss the size of his eyes would've been impossible. "You okay?"

He nodded automatically, looking shaken but otherwise in one piece. "Yeah. You?"

"Yeah."

"He just…"

"It was an accident." I prayed it was. It better have been. People shooting guns that early in the game could only mean someone was going to get hurt. It was my job to make sure that wasn't Riley. Or myself.

"He knows, Kenny! Don't you get that? He knows!"

"You don't know that!"

"Tell me you can't see it!"

"Even if he does, it doesn't change anything!"

Kent stopped and bit his lip, throwing a look over in our general direction. Without another word, he turned and started up those stairs. The tall one went with him. Kenny gave us one last glare before slamming the door shut.

"Wait!" Riley called, moving toward the door before the room was plunged into darkness. I heard a sharp intake of breath. I moved toward it, my hand coming into contact with his jacket-clad shoulder. He yelped and flinched back, and I heard the crunch of broken glass as he quickly stepped back away from me. I could hear his breathing quicken in the eerie blackness.

"Riley?" I asked cautiously. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Sorry," came the slightly wheezy reply. I heard him take a puff from his inhaler. "Just…mm. Yep. Fine." He sounded anything but. I could hear him moving along the wall.

I took a step toward him, fine shards of glass crunching beneath my shoes. Another gasp. "Ah, actually. Could you just…just stay. Where you are. Don't move." He sounded borderline terrified.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing. I just…need some space." His voice was too quiet. I saw his form move in front of the door, contrasted by the faint streak of light that shone from beneath it. I realized I could hear my heart beating. Frozen where I stood, I watched him sit down right beside the door, knees pulled up close to his chest. I saw his hand land in that little stream of light and stay there for a minute, like he was drawing comfort from that tiny break in the darkness. He was suddenly breathing very slowly. In through his nose, out through his mouth. Each lasting a three count.

"Riley?" I asked softly, and I watched his hand jerk. I had to swallow around a suddenly dry throat. "How much time did you spend in basements growing up?"

He slid that vent cover out of his sleeve and began working at the metal flaps. "Just one placement. I wasn't there that long. It was just a pretty freaky basement." I could hear the undertones of fear in his voice even then.

I was glad he couldn't see me. I have no idea what my face must've looked like then. But I know my insides were screaming. "How old were you?"

"Sixteen."

Sixteen. That would've been two years ago. I was reminded suddenly how painfully young my young friend was. I took a step forward. The moment I did, the glass making that cursed crunch, Riley jumped, losing his grip on the vent cover as his hands automatically came up, back pressing against the cold wall. "Geeze, Ben," he said shakily as he ran his hands over his face and reached down again for the metal grate.

"I'm sorry. What…happened?"

I didn't think he'd answer. "Dark basement. Locked from the outside. Good place to keep someone you don't want around all the time." He finally got that metal flap free. The other came off soon after. I was still speechless. He heard my silence. "Mostly nothing a whole lot worse than that," he tried to brush it off. The word "mostly" had never jumped out of a sentence that hard in my mind more than at that moment. "But," he went on, "I did pick up a few nifty tricks like this." Pushing the thin metal into the door, he slid it up and worked it for a moment before I heard the lock disengage. Pressing his ear to the door, he waited for a moment before deciding the coast was clear and pushing the door open and stepping into the light.

Riley

I breathed a sigh of relief. I will probably never own a house with a basement. I'd spent way too many nights in pitch black, curled up at the top of a staircase, staying as close as I could to that faint patch of light, hearing bugs and little feet scurrying, and never quite knowing if it was in my head or not. Placement number twelve. Four months. Four months waiting for the sound of footsteps. Steady footsteps meant release. Stumbling footsteps usually meant I'd end up getting the crap kicked out of me. A shudder ran through my body. No reason anyone should really have to know about that. It was over. I was fine. And even if I wasn't completely fine, I could pretend.

I looked around the room we were in now. A wooden staircase went up to the main floor. The room was concrete like the one we'd been in, but it had an area rug covering a lot of it, and a couch and a TV in the corner. And a window at the top. A hand landed at the back of my neck and I pretty much jumped out of my skin. "Geeze!" I hissed.

Ben. Poor guy. I didn't mean to be a jerk. I'd dragged him into all of this. But I really couldn't handle being touched right then. He looked like he does when he wants to talk but stops himself. Which I appreciated. 'Cause I was done with that whole subject. One nightmare at a time, please. "Sorry," I said, taking a calming breath. "Kent and them are on the other side of that door up there. We can't get out that way."

"The window," he nodded. "Already on it. Good job, Riley."

I grinned at that, just a little. Walking up to the window, he slid his arms out of his jacket and balled the material up around his arm. Making as little noise as possible, he broke the window, knocking out the loose shards of glass. Then he shook out the jacket and pushed it up through the opening, laying it down on the ground to cover any broken glass. He motioned me over. "Come on."

I walked up next to him, and I realized something that made a tremor run through my body, making my shoulders jerk. The window was barely big enough for me to squeeze through. There was no way Ben was going to make it. I backed up. "New plan."

He shook his head. "There is no new plan. You've got to go for help."

"No."

"Riley…"

"No. You don't get it. I'm not leaving you here."

"I'll be fine."

I shut my eyes, shaking my head quickly. "But you might…not be. Ben, I heard…" I trailed off and rubbed at my chest.

"What? Tell me what you heard."

I chose my words carefully, as the conversation I'd heard through the door played in my head.

We've got no choice, Kent. After break there are two weeks left in the semester. We don't get him to drop out today, there's no way you can spring for a private room before it ends. Everything this far will have been for nothing. And you're really willing to risk everything on trusting them to keep quiet for two weeks? You know that'll never happen.

Kenny, this is going too far.

I know you don't care about that kid. And no one would be able to tie us to that other guy in a million years.

Kenny, we can't do this! You have any idea what's going to happen if we…

You know what's going to happen if we don't? We can do what has to be done and get to walk away with six hundred grand, or we can go to jail because of one stupid loose end. I'm not going to jail, Kent. Not for something you screwed up. And what about Jason? You're gonna let him sit in jail for nothing?

I make no claims at being a genius. But I'm no idiot, either, and I could only think up one interpretation for that. It wasn't safe for them to keep us alive. After I dropped out, there was nothing else for them to do with us. "After they get what they want from me…Ben, they…"

He understood. He took a deep breath, biting the inside of his lip. "It's still our only shot, Riley. You have to go. It's okay. You've got to go."

"Ben, if they come back… I won't let you die for me." I had to say it through my teeth, because my jaw got all seized up as tears burned at my eyes. I swallowed. "It's my fault you're here. I'm going to get you out."

"The only way for you to do that is to go now. Buddy, it's okay. You get out. Get somewhere safe, and you call the police, you hear me?"

I racked my brain for something else we could do. But in the end, I realized that he was right. It was our only shot. I was Ben's only shot. As much as I hated it, I had to leave him there. And every moment I stayed made it less likely I'd be back in time. So I nodded. "Fine."

He cupped his hand and I put my foot in it as he got ready to lever me up. He paused. "Riley…"

"Whatever it is, tell me later." He looked like he really wanted to say something. But I swear if he tried to give me some these-are-my-last-words speech, I was going to lose it. He nodded and without another word, boosted me up. I managed to pull myself through, though when I pulled my legs out after me, my right one dragged across a piece of glass. I barely managed to suppress a scream. I bit down, not even looking down as I felt warm blood trickle down my leg. Focus. "Be back in a few." I reached back in and handed him one of the thin, sharp flaps from the vent. It wasn't much, but if push came to shove, it could do some damage. "Be careful."

He nodded, and I stood and looked around. Leaves littered the ground from trees surrounding the property. I couldn't see another house. Heart already pounding, I started jogging, my cut leg fighting at me, lungs already starting to burn. Looking around, all I could see was more trees. Except up there. A road. I jogged toward it, fall air biting the inside of my chest every time I inhaled. When I reached it, I looked up and down. There was nothing. No cars. I couldn't see another house or a building. Not in either direction. "Come on!" I shouted. Nobody heard. "God! Come on!" I needed an angel or something. God, I need an angel!

Still there was nothing. Two choices. Walk along the road until I found someone willing to help. Or go back. Try to sneak Ben out. I took one step out onto the road. Stopped. With a deep breath, I turned. And I started running back toward the house.

Five minutes later, I knew I was running out of time. Kenny had said half an hour. I wasn't sure how much time had actually passed or how tight a schedule they wanted to keep, but I knew I had to be getting close. The house was average-sized. One of those feaux log cabin type things on the outside. The car in the driveway was locked, and I doubted there was any way they wouldn't hear me trying to break a car window. And even if I got in, I'd never hotwired a car before. I slinked around the outside of the house. I could see the three of them through the window in the living room. The door to the basement was down the hall from the front door. The living room was right across from it. No way could I get by without them seeing me.

I crouched down beneath the window and thought. Distraction. I leaned my head back against the wall, looking up at the sky, needing a plan. Then I saw it. The smoke. Coming from the chimney. They had a fire going in there. My hand went automatically to my pocket. I looked up again, weighing the odds. Holy cow. I had an idea.

There was a shed out back. Old wood, paint peeling. No lock. I threw the door open and nearly sang some sort of happy, joyful song. There was a ladder there, propped against the wall. I looked around more. What else could I use? A gas can. Nice. Pressed for time, I grabbed the ladder and hauled it out. It was heavy. One of those old wood kind. Dragging it and the gas can, I propped it up against the side of the house opposite where the living room was. I managed to get up the ladder, pretending each step didn't send pain scorching up my leg from that gash. I pulled the gas can up next to me and went to the chimney.

I took out my inhaler and soaked it in gasoline from the can. Squinted at the label. "'Do not use albuterol inhaler near flame or source of heat. Inhaler may explode if exposed to high temperatures.'" I grinned. "Fire in the hole."

Without another thought to how crazy I was, I dropped the inhaler down the chimney. Then poured more gasoline in on top. Then I got away quick. Sliding down the ladder, I landed hard, sending a wave of agony radiating up my leg. I heard a roar then a pop and ran around to the front door. Throwing a look through the window, I saw the three goons leap up from their seats and run toward what I guessed was the master bedroom that held the fireplace. Without hesitating I opened the door and limped down the hall as fast as I could.

I could hear shouts and curses. And something else. Fire. I could hear fire. How big was that explosion? Didn't matter, 'cause there was the door. I unlocked it and threw it open. "Ben!" I whispered loudly. "Get up here!" He was up the stairs in under three seconds.

Caught me by the shoulders. "You were supposed to..."

"I know."

"You're crazy!"

"I know!"

The house was filling with smoke faster than I would've imagined. I heard a yell about the carpet being on fire. Then the curtains. Juan came running around the corner, headed for the door. Before he even registered the fact that we were there, Ben landed a right hook across his jaw. He tripped back, but stayed upright. Ben grabbed a nearby vase and swung, busting it across the huge guy's head. He landed out cold. Bigger they are…

"Hey!" Kenny and Kent came tumbling out of the bedroom. Spotted us. Ben grabbed my arm.

We ran, shots ringing out behind us, hitting the walls, the door just as we managed to duck through. Jumping off the porch, we dove behind the car. As a few more shots peppered the sides of the car. Ben was next to me on the ground. "Got any more to this plan?"

"Nope, this is about as far as I got! Your turn!"

He nodded, accepting this. "Working on it!" I heard a gun dry click. Somebody was out of bullets. He looked at me. "Go around the side of the house. I'll try to draw them off this way. Let me go first."

"Ben…" but he was already going. Biting my tongue, I counted to seven before pushing myself up and hobbling across to the side of the house. There was a sturdy branch lying a few feet away. I grabbed it up, hoping to catch one of them off guard when they came around. I looked up at the house and realized the whole inside was starting to burn. Oh crap. Juan. He was still in there.

"Crap, crap, crap!" Using the branch as a sort of cane, I hurried my way up the porch steps and grabbed the huge Spanish wonder by the shoulder of his jacket and pulled. It was like hauling a truck. Without tires. Not being particularly careful, I rolled him down the porch steps. "Don't say I never did anything for you, you crazy, crazy Spanish man!" I turned around in time to see Kenny with his gun aimed at me. I froze. I had no way of knowing if his was the gun that was empty or if Kent's was the empty one.

"Game over, you little freak," he seethed, face streaked with soot, hair sticking up at mad angles. Geeze, he really looked like a great big orangutan.

I dropped my branch and narrowed my eyes. "Let me know how well six hundred grand spends in prison."

His eyes widened. Then I heard one single gunshot, from a ways off, echoing off the trees. Oh no. Ben. No! But that meant…Kenny's gun… Fists clenched, I spoke lowly. "You're empty."

He tossed the gun aside, grinning. "Sounds like you are, too. Hope you and Gates weren't too terribly close."

My lungs seized as my heart tore a hole in my throat. That couldn't be…Ben wasn't…

Kenny was still laughing. He took a step forward. "Time for you to come with me. We're going to finish this." He made a grab for me. I blocked his hand with my left and with my right hand, I swung. From the shoulder. Wrist stiff. Followed all the way through.

And I connected.

I felt the crunch of bone and cartilage as my hand smashed into his face. It was the eeriest thing I'd ever felt. He reeled back, hands flying up to his face as blood poured through his fingers, crying out in pain from his freshly broken nose. I hit him again and he wavered. The last one saw his eyes closing. He went down and didn't move except for the slow rise and fall of his chest.

Breathing hard, tears biting my eyes, I turned around. Wasn't sure what to do. Ben. I had to find Ben. If he was…if something happened to him, it was all my fault. Please don't let him be dead. He can't be dead because of me! Oh, man. I might have killed my best friend. I might have killed my bestfriend

Ben

I ran. I could hear my pursuer behind me. I couldn't spare a moment to look back. I could only hope I'd managed to draw both psychopaths away from Riley. I didn't know what the kid had done back there, but I was pretty sure it was a miracle. He'd managed to set the place on fire. He seemed to be gifted in that area. Maybe we'd be able to joke about it someday. Whoever was behind me was gaining. I winced. Maybe we'd be able to joke about it many, many years down the road.

"Stop!" The voice was suddenly right behind me. "Stop unless you want that kid to come back here and find you dead!"

That horrifying thought slowed my feet by itself. I finally came to a stop, raising my arms, breaths coming almost as quickly as my rapid heartbeats. I turned to face him. He was maybe four yards away. "It's over, Bishop. You're not getting that money. We all know that."

His eyes widened and the gun bounced in his hand. He quickly steadied it with the other. Shaking his head, he glared at me. "No. Jason went to jail for that money. We're taking it. Your little friend is going to do what I tell him to do, or he's going to watch you die. I tend to think he'll lean toward the former."

"Nobody's going to buy that. If you run now, you might have a chance at getting away. A slim chance is better than no chance at all."

"You don't get it, man. Jason…me and him are like brothers. Friends since kindergarten. He kept his mouth shut because he knew when he got out, I'd be waiting for him out here with the money, and we'd be okay. You think I'm giving up this easy; you don't know me very well."

"I don't know you very well. But a murder charge is going to keep you in prison a lot longer than your buddy."

His trembling hand tightened. "I don't want to kill you. Everything would've been fine if your friend had just done what he was supposed to do and left. That's all I wanted. If he'd left, nobody would've gotten hurt."

"If you and your friend hadn't stolen over half a million dollars, none of us would be here right now! Your 'blood brother' wouldn't be sitting in jail. You wouldn't be on the verge of screwing up a lot of people's lives, including your own!"

"Shut up!" He shook the gun at me. "I don't need to justify myself to you! You get over here slowly, and we're going back. And you better pray Poole is still there."

I watched the gun. There was a fifty/fifty chance if he pulled the trigger it would click dry. They weren't the best odds, but I was sure I'd worked with worse before. I wasn't much of a gambler. And I was never one for Russian roulette. But Riley was off somewhere alone, and I had no idea where Kenny was. Those odds were entirely unacceptable.

"All right," I said. "Take it easy. All right." I walked over toward him, slowly, arms still raised, watching the gun, watching his trigger finger. "I just have one question."

"What's that?"

"How often do you gamble?" With that, I grabbed onto the gun and threw a punch at his face, catching him in the side of the head. His hand jerked. Sure enough, the gun went off, and I felt pain sear across my palm as the discharge took the skin off where my hand was clamped over the top of the barrel. I yelped, hand automatically releasing the gun. Throwing myself forward, I crashed into him, taking us both to the ground, grappling for the gun. More than once, I found myself staring down the barrel. More than once he found himself in the same situation. We seemed to struggle like that, going back and forth, for an eternity until his fist caught me under the chin, forcing my head back so I couldn't see him long enough for him to land a solid punch to my stomach. I tried to gasp as the breath was ripped painfully from my body. In the time it took for me to get my eyes back on him, the gun was in my face.

We were both breathing hard. His eyes got round and glassy as he seemed to make a decision he didn't want to make. "I'm sorry," he whispered, tears filling his eyes.

I shook my head, icy fear fisting around my heart. "Don't do it."

"I can't let you mess this up for me anymore."

"Kent!"

"Sorry." He pulled the trigger.

Click.

The sound of what could've been my last heartbeat rang in my ears as I realized I was still alive. I sucked in a breath to prove to my heart it was okay for it to keep beating.

Eyes widening, Kent looked down at the traitorous weapon in his hands. "I…"

That was all he got out before I put my hand over his on the gun and got behind the other to land a right hook right across his jaw. His head snapped around, and he fell back into the leaves, fingers lax against the empty gun. I let out a breath and slowly stood, gun in my uninjured hand. I glanced down at the young man at my feet. I didn't want to feel sorry for him. But somehow I couldn't help the pity that welled up. I shook my head with a helplessly mumbled, "Stupid kid."

But I didn't have time for this. I had my own stupid kid to worry about. I turned to run back for the house, when I stopped. Riley was standing several yards away, supporting himself on a tree. Pretty sure that tree was the only thing keeping him upright. His eyes were wide and shocky, holding an unspeakable fear. I could see his chest moving up and down, every breath going in and out of his mouth. I sighed in relief. He was okay.

"Where's the other guy?" I asked tensely.

He didn't answer. His eyes didn't move, staring at me like he was sure I was going to disappear at any moment.

"Riley? Are you okay?"

He carefully pushed off the tree and took a few hobbling steps toward me. It was then that I saw the blood making streaks down his right leg. I was over to him in a second. "What happened? Riley, where's the other guy?"

He reached out like he was scared if he touched me he might hurt me, but he had to convince himself I was really there and really breathing. Slender fingers caught at the fabric of my sleeve. He swallowed, eyes going bright. "I…it's okay. He's not coming." His breathing sped up. "Geeze, Ben," he whispered. "I thought…I heard the shot…and then I came, and he had the gun, and there was nothing I could do, and it would've been my…"

I wrapped a hand around the back of his head and pulled him into a hug. "Hey. I promised you we'd get out okay. I meant it."

He nodded against my chest, hands gripping my jacket like he was genuinely afraid to let go. He let out a deep breath and gave a slightly hysterical laugh. "Yeah. Next time I'll believe you." I sent up a silent prayer of thanks, breathing my own sigh of relief. Because I realized it would've been all too easy for that day's events to have made a liar out of me.

But that's not what I said. Resting my chin on his bent head, I grinned. "Good. So...I think I'm going to skip my 8:00 class."

"I'll write you a fake note."

A/N: This isn't the end. :) There's more. I'll update as soon as I can.