“Why?” I asked.
He sighed. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“B-Bailey,” I said, my voice coming out a whisper.
“It’s a pleasure, Bailey. I’m Steven.”
“So?” I pressed.
“So what?”
“So why are you doing this? You don’t even know me.”
“Because, Bailey,” he said, placing his hands in front of the air vents. “We all need saving at some point. I’m here to save you.”
***
He didn’t get out when a car pulled up to the parking lot. We drove to a field in complete silence, neither of us speaking. But he held my hand—and not in an intimate way, but in a comforting way. And it had worked. He made me feel safe.
I kept my head lowered, not making eye contact with his brother or the guy supplying the drugs.
I followed Steven’s lead and sat on the hood of his brother’s car while they talked. “Is this weird?” his brother asked while Steven went to his car for something.
I shrugged, not knowing how else to respond.
I was all too familiar with the smell of weed, so I knew what they were smoking. At one point his brother offered me the joint. “No, thank you,” I said, trying to keep my voice level. I didn’t want to show how much I despised what they were doing. They talked for a bit while Steven placed his hand on my arm rubbing up and down to keep me warm. I listened as they spoke about themselves—and about their lives. And I realized it then—that Steven’s words from earlier held more truth than I knew.
Steven—he needed saving just as much as I did.
I found myself leaning into him, trying to find a way to comfort him the way he’d done with me. He pulled me closer and kissed the side of my head. I felt my heart tighten again—just like it did when he placed the gloves over my hands. He cared. And as stupid as it sounded considering we’d only met a few hours ago, I felt connected to him somehow. Like we were both living a lie; hoping that someday we’d mean something.
We both wanted to matter.
And we both needed to be saved.
Steven said to his brother, “Go home, Ky. Go home to your family…” He waved his finger in a circle, “…and be better than this. You don’t belong here."
His brother sighed. “You don’t have to belong here either, Steve.”
Steven laughed. “A little late for all that.”
But maybe he was wrong.
Maybe it wasn’t too late.
Maybe we could save each other.
Table of Contents
Author Note
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
REDEMPTIVE
Jay McLean, Combative
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