I never leave Warner’s side. It’s been twenty-four hours since we found him. Cricket removed the trap on his leg, cleaned his leg up and stitched it. That’s the best we could do. His foot looks like it’s got good blood flow, but he probably won’t walk on it normal again.

Laying up close to Warner on the bed in the spare bedroom, I run my fingers over his forehead, brushing the hair from his face. I sing a Willy Nelson song, hoping Warner can hear me next to him. Cricket is a big fan of Willie, and the songs are stuck in my head now.

Closing my eyes, Huey on Warner’s chest, I fall asleep with my family. I don’t deserve them, but I’ll fight for them until I die.

“You feel like you can walk on it?” Cricket’s voice wakes me, and I find him talking to Warner who is now sitting up. He’s shirtless, wearing a pair of jersey shorts Cricket got from town.

Sitting up, I watch as Warner tries to stand. He winces and takes a step.

“I can’t put much pressure on it,” Warner confesses.

“I think you’re gonna be a cripple, son.” Cricket doesn’t beat around the bush. Warner sighs, sitting back down on the bed. He looks over to me and I give a small smile. I’m so happy he’s back I don’t give a shit if he’s a cripple or not.

“Thanks for taking care of my girl,” he tells Cricket, and Cricket scoffs.

“She’s amazing. You guys are lucky, those cops would have destroyed you guys.”

Warner shakes his head. “I would have deserved it, we did some terrible shit.”

“I’ve heard, but you made it to where you wanted to be and the only person that can judge you is God. Not the fucking police who have no idea what happened at any of those incidents.”

Warner nods, but I can tell he doesn’t agree. He’s hard on himself.

“Well, dinner is ready. Why don’t you come eat with us and tell us about your last few days? I’m a sucker for a story!” He smiles, and I laugh.

“He is.” It’s Warner’s turn to tell stories.

Cricket leaves, shutting the door behind him, and Warner is on me like a snake on a mouse.

His lips kissing me urgently like I’m his remedy to his pain.

“You are what kept me alive River, and I swore when I was able to hold myself up again. I was taking you.” Lifting my dress, he fists my breasts and I arch into him. The feel of his skin against mine almost making me cry. I never thought I’d feel this again.

It might be weird being in another person’s house, us being in pain. But we need each other, I don’t expect anyone to understand.

Jerking down his shorts, the tip of his cock finds my heat and he slips inside of me. Gasping, I pull him closer, my legs wrapping around him. His ass flexes as he pumps in and out of me. The feeling of his pulsing shaft making me wetter.

He winces when his foot hits the footrest, so I roll us, me on top. His dick goes in deeper, and with my knees pressed into the small bed, I take control. Pumping up and down, my tits bouncing, his nails digging into my thighs.

His mouth parts, that look that he’s coming crossing his face, so I lean down and take his moans into my mouth as we both come at the same time. He fills me with his seed, jerking his hips a few times, it drips out of me. Laying on top of him, my body sensitive, he pets my head. Kissing it every once in a while.

“We made it,” he whispers.

“We did,” I mutter.

“Love might have made us wanted, crazy, and soulmates, but we made it together.”