Twelve Years Later, His Canary Flew Away
he murmured, his voice soft, just as it had been when we first met ten years ago.
I'd been trapped in a warehouse during an attack by a rival family, certain I was going to die. It was Darrel who had charged through a storm of gunfire to carry me out on his back.
Afterward, looking at the gunshot wounds that riddled his body, I knew I owed him a debt I could never repay.
"Then don't repay it," he'd replied with an easy smile. "Just keep it. You can pay me back, little by little, down the line."