His heavy body, thick with muscles and scar tissue, lay in an easy repose that she’d only seen in children. He watched her intently as she walked in the room, eyes flicking over her hips, breasts, hands, face. He smiled when he saw the handcuffs. “You gonna lock me up?” Well, he doesn’t look lost anymore. “Hi, Lewis. I’m Sarah Rheinhart.” Alice looked at her sharply. “And that’s Alice. We found you at the river, in a boat.” “Bull,” he said. “We did… we found you by—” “No, that’s what everyone calls me.” He motioned down to his body as if to say, this. “Since I was a kid.” He opened his mouth as if to say more, then shut it. “Bull, you been messed up real bad,” Alice said, moving near the bedside table. “Been out for a coupla days now. We been taking care of you.” A pitcher sat on the bedside table near a glass. Alice picked up the pitcher and filled the glass with water. There was a long silence. “What’re you gonna do with those handcuffs?”
