Free Hunt and Pray by Cindy Sutherland

with the exception of what appeared to be a small first aid kit. No guns or ammunition, just a knife like the one Drew was holding in his hand.
    He looked down at Chance questioningly.
    “I’m supposed to slit your throat and cut off your hand and then take it back to him before 9:00 a.m.”
    Drew didn’t know what to say to that, so he just nodded and waited to see what else he would say.
    “He took my gun and beat the shit out of me before patting me on the head and sending me on my little mission. If I don’t come back with his trophy on time”—Chance winced in pain—“he and Ezra will come after both of us. I’ll no longer be his son; just a disgusting faggot who deserves to be hunted and killed.”
    Drew didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone look so tired and lost in his life, but he couldn’t quite convince himself it wasn’t all an act.
    “So you’re gonna kill me to save your life?” Drew shrugged. “Guess I can’t blame you for that.”
    Chance shook his head. “No, I’m gonna try and get your ass home in one piece before he fucking kills me .”
    Drew wanted to believe him, but fear was threatening to overwhelm him again.
    “Why? Why now, after all this time? There must have been lots of times he needed stopping that you didn’t do anything.”
    Those ice-blue eyes found Drew’s, and suddenly Drew couldn’t look away.
    “Because all those other times it was just about me, never anyone else.” Drew searched Chance’s eyes but could find nothing but the utter truth.
    Drew narrowed his eyes. “I still don’t trust you.”
    Chance shrugged. “I wouldn’t either.” He looked down at his bleeding chest. “Don’t suppose you have a bandage on you?”
    Drew started to shake his head but remembered the first aid kit in Chance’s pack. He reached in and grabbed it, then tossed it at Chance’s feet. The other man looked down at it, surprise written across his features.
    “I forgot that was in there. Thanks.” He picked up the kit and opened it, then took out a few things and opened them up, getting them ready to use: gauze, tape, and some small foil squares of disinfecting wipes.
    He carefully pulled his T-shirt over his head, wincing as he did. He looked up at Drew. “Could you hold this so I can see?” Chance held the little flashlight out to Drew. “You can stand back farther if it makes you feel better.”
    Drew eyed it warily for a moment. He was well aware Chance was capable of killing him without a weapon.
    He also knew if Chance wanted to kill him, he’d probably be dead already. He reached for the light and turned it on Chance. What he saw on Chance’s body made him gasp.
    “Jesus Christ, Chance….”
    The bruises were bad enough, but in the direct light Drew could see Chance’s torso was crisscrossed with small scars. He was sure if he looked at Chance’s back it would be the same… if not worse. “Please tell me that happened to you when you were in the service….”
    Drew trailed off when Chance looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. “You’d rather think I was hurt in combat than believe these lovely little reminders were from my father, huh?” There was a flash of deep sorrow in his eyes that was gone as quickly as it appeared. “Yeah, me too.”
    Chance grabbed one of the packages of disinfectant and ripped it open. He used the small square inside to wipe off the blood his chest, hissing in pain as he did.
    “I wish I hadn’t… I’m sorry….”
    Drew hadn’t meant to blurt it out, but he couldn’t help it. From the look of his body, Chance had been hurt a lot in his life, and even considering the circumstances, Drew regretted that he’d contributed to the other man’s pain.
    “For what? Trying to defend yourself?” Chance grabbed another of the small squares of foil and used its contents as well. “Don’t worry about it. I deserved it. I never should have let it get this far.”
    When the wound looked like it was as clean as it could be, he