Page 63 of Benji

“What exactly are you trying to save here?” Dom asked. “I thought you were here for the case.”

I pointed to the photo on the table. The one of the twelve-year-old boy crying alone at his mother’s funeral. “This boy right here. That’s who I’m here for. The one whose own father wants him dead. Who is on the runbecause his arsehole father, the man we’re trying to put in prison, is trying to track him down.” Then I pointed at Dom. “I will not let you or anyone else hurt him, do you under-fucking-stand?”

I left Dom standing there and went down to my room. Benji was standing at my bed, shoving the last of his shirts into his backpack.

“No, Benji, no,” I whispered, going to him, trying to take his things out as he was trying to shove them in. “You can’t go. Don’t leave. You’re safe here. We’ll figure something out.”

“You’re in danger if I stay,” he said, pulling the backpack away from me. “Your case, your work, your job.” He shook his head. “I can’t bring this shit down on you if I’m not here.”

I shook my head, panic starting to kick in. “No. It’s fine. I’m off the case. It’s no big deal. There are a thousand other cases. This isn’t your fault.”

“Fitch and Ky,” he said, tears welling in his eyes. “I put them in danger too. Everyone I care for. All I do is bring trouble, no matter where I go. I’m sorry.” He sniffled, and the first tear escaped down his cheek. He tried to scrub it away, but I pulled him into my arms.

He had no fight in him anymore. He let me hold him and he sobbed.

“No, baby,” I whispered. “You’re no trouble. You did nothing wrong. You couldn’t have known. Like I couldn’t have known.”

“If I’d told you my name . . .”

“If you’d told people your name, your father wouldhave found you a long time ago. You did what you needed to do. I would never question that.”

He cried some more and I held him tighter. “It’ll be okay, Benji. I promise. But I can’t protect you if you leave. I know you’re scared. I am too. But you’ll be okay. Just stay until we figure something out. Please. Then—” I shrugged. “—if you still feel unsafe and want to go somewhere else, I’ll drive you myself. Anywhere you want to go.”

He sobbed, his whole body shaking. “Why are you so nice to me? Why are you doing this?”

I pulled back and cupped his face, making him look at me. He had tears streaming down his face, his dark lashes wet, eyes red. “Because you’re worth it,” I whispered. “You deserve to be looked after, shown the love you never had.”

He recoiled a little and I realised I’d said theLword.

I hadn’t exactly meant it like that, but he did deserve love. He deserved to be loved, to bask in it, to grow in it.

And if he stayed with me, I believed I could do that. I could love him so easily.

He heaved out a sob, barely able to speak. “I don’t deserve love.”

I pulled him back into my arms, holding him so damn tight. “You do. You do deserve love. To be loved, to know what it means to be loved so completely. You do, Benji. And if you give me a chance, I could be that person for you. If you let me.”

He cried and cried, and I kept my arms around him until he cried himself out. I needed him to know that Iwasn’t going anywhere. After a while, he pulled back, wiping his eyes and nose, his face a blotchy, beautiful mess.

I wiped my thumb across his cheek and kissed his forehead. “You’ll be okay. We’ll make this right.”

He frowned again, but he nodded. “I... I don’t know how.”

The truth was, I wasn’t entirely sure either. “We’ll work it out together. But he can’t hurt you when you’re here with me. I won’t let it happen.”

His gaze met mine. He looked so tired. As if he finally allowed himself to feel the weight of the last few years. He nodded, fresh tears welling in his eyes. “I don’t know why you’re so good to me.”

Oh, this boy . . .

I pulled him in under my arm and kissed his forehead. “Then I’ll just have to show you until you get it.”

He froze. “Show me what?”

“That you’re worth it,” I said, trying to keep my tone nonchalant. “Come on, we better go see if Dominic’s gone.” I assumed he was because we’d been in my room a while. I’d have some fallout to deal with, I was certain of that much. But I didn’t care. I was doing the right thing.

I’d always had a moral compass for right and wrong, and this was the right thing to do.

My career be damned.

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