Page 71 of Danger Close
Ezra’s gaze softened.“That’s us?”
Ricky nodded.“Yeah.We got too close.Let ourselves be known.Be vulnerable.And it could’ve destroyed us.”
“But it didn’t.”
“No,” Ricky said, eyes shining.“It saved us.Because when it came down to it—you didn’t run.You aimed for me.And you pulled me out of the fire.”
Ezra pulled him in close, forehead to forehead.
“I’d do it again,” he whispered.
“I know,” Ricky breathed.
The fire burned low, the stars wheeled above them, and the Ridge became their sanctuary.
Epilogue
The bruises were stillfresh.A slash of purple beneath his right eye, the stark cut of a split lip.He kept his eyes forward, sunglasses hiding what he couldn’t otherwise control.He moved like someone used to the water—fluid, deliberate—but pain dogged every step as he limped through the departure terminal of LaGuardia.The duffel bag over his shoulder held everything he owned now.
Eli Camino didn’t look back.
He’d made that mistake once already, and it had nearly cost him more than just a shattered cheekbone and a cracked rib.This time, there’d be no hesitation.No lingering in doorways, hoping that charm would shift to remorse, or that cruelty could be explained away by stress or power or fear.
No.This time, he was out.
The email had come two days ago, just as he’d been packing what few things he could carry.A contact of a contact, someone from a long-forgotten seminar had passed his name along to a man named Ezra.A veteran-run rehabilitation project in Wyoming was looking for someone with trauma recovery credentials and hands-on experience.Preferably someone who didn’t mind rural settings or keeping a low profile.
“Private care role.One patient.Long-term, full support.Confidential.”
The last word had sealed it.
Eli had responded within an hour, and after a terse but surprisingly warm phone call, Ezra had wired him a travel stipend and booked a one-way flight to Cheyenne.No references, no official channels.Just a quiet understanding that he needed a fresh start—and that someone out there needed him.
It felt almost too good to be real.But Eli had long since learned that salvation doesn’t arrive on angel’s wings.Sometimes, it comes by way of a stranger’s voice on the phone and a ticket west.
The boarding call echoed through the terminal.Flight 227 to Cheyenne.
