Page 61 of Benson
No ring. No voicemail. Just a flat, impersonal message: This number is no longer in service at this time.
Benson stared at the screen, heart sinking. He hated this separation. Hated the silence. Hated not knowing if Kyle was okay, if he was thinking about him, if he’d already moved on. The house felt colder than usual with the snow outside falling in slow, deliberate flakes.
He sat on the front porch, wrapped in a thick jacket, watching the snow gather on the railing. Rusty had followed him out, curled beside his feet, asleep again. Benson picked him up and put him inside the house, fearful Rusty would take off. He went to the kitchen and made some hot tea, then carried it to the porch, making sure Rusty remained inside. He sat down and sipped his tea and tried not to spiral. He thought about Kyle’s laugh, the way he tilted his head when he was curious, the way he made Benson feel like he wasn’t just a man with responsibilities—but someone worth loving.
Then headlights cut through the snowfall.
A sleek black car pulled into the driveway, its tires crunching over the ice. Benson stood, heart thudding. For a moment, absurdly, he wondered if Logan had sent someone to finish the fight in a more permanent way. A hitman. That would be just like him.
But then the driver stepped out and opened the back door.
And Kyle emerged.
He looked exactly as he had the day Benson first picked him up hitchhiking—backpack slung over one shoulder, hoodie pulled tight, eyes wide and searching. Benson didn’t think. He just ran.
Kyle saw him and ran too, boots slipping slightly on the snow, arms outstretched.
They collided in the middle of the driveway, breathless and laughing and crying all at once. Benson wrapped his arms around Kyle and held him like he never planned to let go.
“I thought I’d lost you,” Benson whispered into his hair.
Kyle pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. “You didn’t. I don’t want to live without you. I’m more than ready for you to be my Daddy Benson in Michigan.”
And in that moment, the snow didn’t matter. The silence didn’t matter. The distance, the missed calls—none of it mattered.
Because Kyle was home.
And Benson had his love.
Benson hoisted Kyle onto his shoulder and carried him into the house. Kyle was laughing, the sound echoing around him the entire time.
“I’m going to get lost around here.” Benson carried Kyle up the stairs slowly, cradling him like something precious he’d nearly lost. The house was quiet, the only sound being the soft creak of the steps beneath his feet and the distant hum of theheater. Snow still fell outside, but inside, everything felt warm again.
He pushed open the bedroom door with his shoulder and gently lay Kyle down on the bed. Kyle sat up against the headboard, his backpack slipping to the floor, his eyes wide and shining.
“I can’t believe you’re here with me,” Benson said, voice barely above a whisper.
Kyle didn’t answer right away. He watched Benson climb onto the bed beside him; the mattress dipped under his weight and he looked at Kyle like he was memorizing him all over again. Then he leaned in, and their lips met—soft, searching, full of everything they hadn’t been able to say over the distance.
The kiss deepened, slow and tender, like they were relearning each other with every breath. Benson’s hand found Kyle’s cheek, his thumb brushing the edge of his jaw. Kyle leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering closed.
“I love you, Daddy Benson.” The words came out raw, a truth that had been buried under silence and distance.
“I love you too,” he whispered, voice trembling. “I never stopped.”
He felt Kyle’s breath against his skin, steady and warm, and Benson held on like a drowning man clutching the one thing that could keep him afloat. Loneliness, doubt, the sick churn of not knowing—eased in that embrace. Outside, snow hushed the world, but inside the small room, he finally felt at home again.
“Can I ask you something?” Kyle’s voice was gentle, but it carried that edge Benson knew—something had been gnawing at him.
“Anything.”
“Why didn’t you answer my text?”
Benson frowned. His chest tightened. “What text?”
“The one where I said I love you.”
His breath caught. That text would have been everything. He would’ve answered in seconds. He would’ve flown across the damn country. “I never saw it.” His thoughts went dark, his suspicion immediate. Logan. Of course.
