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Call a Spade
I woke up in Kujo’s closet, lying on his sleeping back, pretty much inside of him, given the way I was all wrapped up in his heat like a cocoon. The place had no windows, and the door was only ajar.
“Kujo?” I muttered, rubbing my face.
“Fran.”
“You okay, my boy?”
“Good.”
“Great.”
“Fran good?”
“I don’t know. I guess.” I sat up and he moved to stand up and keep me wrapped in his heat. I rubbed my arms with a chill. “Thank you. Here’s colder than in LA. Did you eat while I was out?”
“Yes.”
“Well done. Where’s Amy?”
“Hallway. Gina.”
“The children are okay?”
“Yes.”
“You saved them, right?” I rested my back against the wall and brushed his shadowy body. &ldq
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