Page 17 of Falcon

“Well, I’ll let you finish with your morning. I’m sure you have work soon.”

I glance at the time on my phone. “Shit. Yes, I do.”

“Clean your hand again later. Change the bandage. You should be fine,” he says.

“Thank you again, Falcon,” adding extra emphasis on his name, “for helping me home.”

“Anytime.”

He leaves out my front door and I exhale slowly.

Holy fuck.

Who is this guy and where did he come from? And why has the universe placed him in my path? Literally and figuratively. I guess there’s only one way to find out.

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