Take me home, Denver. Take me home. Where I belong.

Marc Love repeated this to different tunes. There was nothing else for him to do. He even wanted his captor to come back. Enjoyed his presence better than being down here alone.

Take me home, Denver. Take me home. Where I belong.

He could almost hear Denver's voice. He could feel the presence of his stare on the side of his face. A feeling he had carried through much of the country. Burning gas in that 

Hyundai

that they had bought used.

Take me home, Denver.

Damn he had missed him. Love hadn't thought of Denver in a long time. Maybe only once or twice since arriving in 

Bloomington, IN

. Maybe the new job. Making some semblance of friends. It had distracted him from Denver.

No. Reminiscing about Denver, some dead guy from the past was the distraction. Instead what he was doing was living. Reality. Work. Coworkers. Now that he was stuck here, held captive by Stephen he was back to imagining.

Take me home, Denver. Take me home. Take me home. Take me home.