Page 27 of Benson
“If you insist on raising the rents,” Benson said evenly, “then you and Logan can buy out my share.”
“Benson—”
He didn’t let the protest finish and abruptly ended the call.
The silence in the room afterward was loud enough to feel. Outside, New Mexico’s morning sun was already climbing,and Arizona was waiting. When they were both dressed, they checked out of the motel.
Benson gripped the steering wheel tighter than necessary, knuckles pale against the worn leather. The truck hummed beneath them, tires eating up the miles of highway. Arizona was still a long way off, but the air already felt lighter just being away from home.
Kyle sat curled in the passenger seat, hoodie pulled tight around his face, legs tucked up like they were still half-asleep. Benson reached over, fingers brushing the curve of Kyle’s knee, grounding himself in the warmth there.
“I hung up on him,” Benson said finally, voice low but edged with something raw. “My father called. Said I needed to be home for Christmas. Said the company needed me.”
Kyle blinked slowly, turning toward him. “You okay?”
“No,” Benson admitted. “I’m pissed. I haven’t felt this kind of anger in a long time. He gave us the company—me and my brother—and still acts like it’s his. Like we’re just holding it for him until he decides to take it back.”
Kyle reached out, his hand resting on Benson’s thigh. “You’ve been carrying that for a while.”
“Yeah.” Benson exhaled hard through his nose. “I’m tired of my father. And Logan. Tired of the company. Hell, maybe I’m tired of Michigan. But I don’t know if I can leave. I love my home. The lake. The quiet. It’s the only place that ever felt like mine.”
Kyle didn’t say anything right away. Just watched him with that soft, steady gaze that always made Benson feel seen. Benson glanced over, then reached for Kyle’s hand, lacing his fingers together.
“But it wouldn’t be the same anymore,” he said. “Not without you there. I don’t want to wake up without you besideme. My home—it’s beautiful, but it would be hollow without you.”
Kyle’s eyes shimmered when Benson leaned over at the next red light, pressing a kiss to his temple, then his cheek, then finally his lips. It was slow and sure, like he was trying to pour everything he couldn’t say into that moment.
“I want to build something with you,” Benson murmured against Kyle’s mouth.
Kyle smiled, brushing Benson’s jaw. “Then let’s figure it out. Arizona first. Kids’ hospital.”
Benson chuckled, the tension in his chest loosening just a little. “You and me.”
Kyle nodded. “Me and you.”
“But first, I have a little surprise for you after breakfast.”
“Really?”
“Yes, we’ll have a little talk about something before we go to the surprise.” Benson parked the truck at a rest stop restaurant. It smelled like bacon grease and coffee, and Benson kind of loved it. It was one of those places with cracked vinyl booths and faded photos of celebrities who probably never ate there. He slid into a booth by the window, the sun already blazing outside, and Kyle dropped into the seat across from him, looking like he hadn’t slept.
They ordered—pancakes for Benson, scrambled eggs and toast for Kyle—and sat in that weird silence that meant something was coming. Benson stirred his coffee, watching Kyle pick at the corner of his napkin.
“Tell me why you stole money from your boss?” Benson asked, voice low.
Kyle sighed, eyes flicking up. “I knew it was wrong.”
Benson leaned back. “Tell me why you stole money from Greco when you knew that was wrong?”
Kyle hesitated, then said, “He didn’t pay me for the week.”
Benson blinked. “How much did you take?”
“Four thousand dollars.” Kyle’s face paled.
“Is that how much you earn in one week?”
“No.”
