“I’m not pissed, Ridge. You know me better than that.”
“I worry about you,” he said. Ridge applied an open-mouthed kiss to his lover of eight months, drew a hand through Damian’s coal-black hair, and then said, “Someone has to worry about you.”
“We should leave before Petri walks his cocky ass in here.”
“Good plan.”
“Who’s driving?”
“I will, in case you have to sketch.”
Damian believed that his mysterious sketching was done for the day, particularly after the detailed work he had just created of the boy in the woods. Then again, he never could tell when a sketch was going to be crafted. Never. 9: Find
June 7.
11:42 A.M.
Clarion County
Route 949
“It’s supposed to be easier than this,” Ridge said, driving on a dirt road, deep in the Clarion woods. “All I see are trees and a few boulders surrounded by trees.”