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We laid on his bed together. Cuddling and listening to music. I ran my fingertips across the scars he had on his arms. Seeing these scars reminded me ...f the scars I had, the scars that can’t be seen only felt. I saw new scars on his arms. The scars jagged. My sight became blurry. Tears started to slide down my cheeks. His pain was my pain. I turned to face him. He smiled at me and said that he loved me as well. He loved me with all his heart. Told me how he could never do anything to harm me.. “Getting soft in my old age.” Koomins was only forty three yet looked sixty with his grey streaked hair grown long to his shoulders and grey eyes. His body was muscular and lean with his arms bare from the shoulders down under a worn black leather vest, a wicked looking scar on the left side of his neck where a rustler,s bullet had gouged a painful course fifteen years before during a range war. Yes Koomins would sort out Mr Hank Mitchell given his chance.Koomins had learned patience over the. More

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