It's not a long walk, six steps or so to my room on the left side of the apartment, and with each one he's right behind me. Good smelling and tall. Damn him.
Valiant walks into the bedroom right up to the window, finding his building before he smiles.
"Vincent, what are you doing here?" I ask again.
He turns, his smile bigger. "I like when you say my name. No more of this Mr. Valiant stuff."
"Okay," I agree, sure he'll forget this tomorrow morning and yell at me the first time I call him Vincent. I remember the whole Mr. Valiant rule from my first day on the job. It was one of the few instructions I'd been given.
"I don't know what to do with you," he says, turning back to look through the window. "I keep making choices I can't take back. Each one leads me closer."
"Closer to what?"
