It was another cold, wet, windy night in Chicago. The kind of night that no one wanted to be out in. I was doing my rounds in the large office building I worked in as a security guard, thankful I didn’t have to be working in the rain that had been coming down in sheets since around noon that day. I could hear the rain pounding against the plate glass windows in the offices and I heard the wind whistling between the tall high-rises that surrounded my Hubbard St. office building.

It was just past 8:00 pm and the last of the office workers had left for the night. I was going out on my rounds and checking to make sure the exterior doors were locked and all the office windows shut against the storm. I was working a twelve-hour shift that night because one of the other guards had called in sick and the company needed someone to work the extra shift. Since I didn't have a life to speak of - no "significant other" and I wasn't the socialite that some of the younger guys were, I didn't mind working. Besides, I could use the overtime!

With my building being the size it was, it took almost an hour to make my rounds, checking the offices, the doors, the staircases and all the other places that needed to be looked after. We’d had a vagrancy problem lately with the homeless trying to sneak into the building to stay warm. It happened every year about this time of year when the weather began to turn. So I had to make sure that no one was in the building that wasn’t supposed to be.

It was one my second set of rounds when I spotted her. I was up on the third floor checking one of the offices at the end of the hallway. I entered the stairway next to the office I just checked when I heard footsteps running up the stairs above me. I ran up the stairs quickly and saw her.

“Stop!” I yelled as I took off after her. I caught up with her on the next landing just as she was turning to continue up the stairs.

Grabbing her by the arm, I pushed her back against the wall; careful to position myself off to one side, lest a well-aimed kick find a soft spot between my legs!

“Let me go! Let me go!” she shouted, which was less than useless since we were alone in the building and there was no way I was going to let her go. She struggled for a minute or so until I showed her it was pointless. Then she stopped struggling and started to cry.

"Please mister, please let me go. I wasn't doing anything - I just wanted to dry off and get warm. It's freezing outside!" she said. I knew she wasn't kidding since I had just started my shift and had come to work in the same conditions!

“I know it’s miserable outside, but I can’t let you stay here. You aren’t supposed to be in the building,” I said.

"Please! I don't have anyplace else to go! The shelters have all filled up and it's too wet and cold to be outside on a park bench! I'll catch pneumonia or something! Please, please don't send me out there in this weather! Please, mister, I don't even have a coat to wear!" she sank down on the floor sobbing uncontrollably, her face in her hands.

I looked down at the young girl. All she had to call her own was what she was wearing and an old beat up daypack, the kind of a kid would take to school to carry their books.

As I looked down at the young girl crying on the floor, I thought about my own daughter Rachael who would be about her age by now. She lived in Texas with her mother now; we had been divorced for about ten years and I hadn’t seen Rachael for almost four years since her and her mother went to Texas.

I was torn as to what to do. I didn't want to turn this young girl out into the streets in weather like this. Hell, the streets of Chicago were dangerous enough even on a good day! And this girl seemed way too young and way too vulnerable to be able to handle herself on the street with all the crime and depravity out there.

I had a lot of friends in the Chicago P.D. and hearing the tales they would tell, I didn't even feel comfortable walking on those streets and I carry a gun! With the weather being as miserable as it was that night and with no safe place to get in out of it or sleep, turning her out into that weather would be almost criminal in itself.

But my job is to watch over and protect the building from all kinds of trouble - fire, flood, physical damage, and vagrants. The latter category this young girl sadly fell into. I knew that if word got back to the office that I let this girl stay inside even in this bad weather, it could mean my job.

And what if she was to get the idea to cry rape or something? We were here in this building alone, she was considerably younger than me and I had the badge and the gun. It would not be a stretch to have her claim I molested her. And that would get me fired and possibly even jailed for being a nice guy!

Still, this girl was clearly in trouble and her alternatives were few. If I threw her out of the building, she would have to try to find some overhang somewhere to get out of the rain. She would instantly get soaking wet and with the infamous Chicago wind, she would very quickly catch a cold - or worse. And putting a pretty young thing like her on the crime-ridden streets of Chicago would be like tying a raw steak to your neck and swimming with sharks!

I stood there trying to come up with a solution. Finally, I decided what I would do. I helped the young girl to her feet and told her to follow me downstairs to the basement where my security office was. She picked up her bag and followed behind me slowly, not knowing what was going to happen but not looking forward to her chances.

Once we got down to the office, I unlocked the door and held it for her. We went inside where there was a small desk and an old leather couch.

“Have a seat,” I told her and she sat down quiet as a churchmouse.

I had to write down some notes in my security log and she sat there watching me, almost holding her breath as she wondered what would happen now. Would I throw her out into the weather? Would I call the cops to haul her off?

I finished my log entries and then turned my chair to face her. “So what is your name, young lady?” I said, acting very stern and no-nonsense.

“Becky… Rebecca Hamilton,” she said softly, looking down at her hands as she played with her fingers nervously.

"Well, Miss Hamilton, you have put me in a very tough position tonight. If I go by the book and do what I am supposed to do, you and I will go upstairs and I will escort you to the front door, and put you out of the building. You are not supposed to be here after hours and I could get into a hell of a lot of trouble having you here.

However, I also know what the weather outside is like as well as what the streets of Chicago are like. I am a father and have a daughter almost your age, so that part of me doesn't want to kick you out," I said.

“S-so what’s gonna happen to me?” she said, looking up at me. I could see her tear-filled eyes and her cheeks still wet from crying. She was a very attractive young girl and despite the gravity of the situation, my cock stirred at the sight of her.

“I cannot, in good conscience, send you out in weather like this and have something happen to you. Besides being a father, I am a security guard and supposed to protect both life and property. So I am going to take a chance and let you stay here with me tonight. However, you will have to go with me on my rounds so I don’t think you will be getting much sleep tonight.

I can’t leave you here alone or have you anywhere in the building unsupervised. So the choice is yours - you can come with me on my rounds and then stay here with me when I take my breaks, or you can take your chances outside in the weather,” I said.

Becky didn’t have to search very long or very hard for her answer. “I will stay here with you and go with you on your rounds. I don’t want to get any wetter than I have gotten already,” she said, plucking her shirt between her fingers and holding the wet garment away from her.

"Yes, we should probably do something about that," I said. I went to the locker and got out my spare uniform shirt. "Here, go behind the locker there and get out of that wet shirt., Put this on - it will be huge on you, but it's dry.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling. She did as I said and a minute later she came back with the wet shirt in her hand. My white uniform shirt was huge on her and reminded me of when my daughter used to wear my old shirt as a sleep shirt. I got a bit of a lump in my throat thinking about it. I did miss her very much.

She handed me her shirt and I stepped into the bathroom to wring it out in the toilet and get as much water out as I could. Then I hung the wet shirt over the radiator-style heater so it could dry out. Once her shirt was hung up I went back to sit in my chair. I rolled it the few feet over to where Becky was sitting once again on the couch.

"Okay Becky, here is how we will work this; you will go with me on my rounds, checking doors, securing any windows that need it, and making sure the building is the way it's supposed to be. For the most part, you will stay by my side so I know where you are, however, there are a few offices in this building that you won't be allowed into because of sensitive materials. In those cases, you will wait in the hallway for me to come back out and we will continue on our way, Understand?" I said.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now as I said, I am taking a big chance here on several levels. Don’t make me regret having a soft heart. I don’t want to have to go looking for you and I don’t want to explain why something is missing,” I said, looking her square in the eye.

“You won’t have any trouble with me, sir, I promise. I am just happy to be warm and dry. I will behave myself and do whatever you tell me,” she said. I had to take her at her word for now.

As we started off on our first rounds together, Becky asked, “You know my name, but I don’t know yours. If we are going to be spending all night together what do I call you?“

“My name is Kevin. Kevin Parkins,” I said.

“Mmm… Kevin. I like that name. I had a boyfriend named Kevin once. He was really sweet to me - must be a ‘Kevin thing”. Are all you Kevins good to girls?“ she asked.

“I don’t know. I just know that I try to be a nice guy,” I said.

"Well, you have my vote already. Not everyone would have been so kind and risked their job like you have. I've been thrown out of other buildings in worse weather than this. I had to go to the hospital once because I got really sick. It was cold and wet just like tonight and I had to scrounge for something to eat in the dumpster. I don't know if it was the ‘Garbage Can Surprise' I ate, or the weather, or both, but I got very sick," she said.

I couldn’t imagine this young girl having to dig through a dumpster in a dark alley just to find something to eat. I knew it happened all the time, but looking at her pretty face up close, made it more personal.

“Well, there won’t be any dumpster diving for you tonight, Becky. I brought plenty of food for us both, and there’s a break room upstairs on the first floor with several vending machines. So you won’t have to scrounge for dinner tonight,” I said.

“Thank you, Kevin. Thank you for everything… you are very sweet,” she said, smiling. Becky had a very beautiful smile and it warmed my heart that I could help her.

And so we began our rounds. It was nice to have someone to talk to for a change instead of making conversation with myself. As we walked from office to office, I asked her about how she came to live on the streets.

"I didn't always live on the streets. I had a family up until about ten years ago. Then my Mom died and Dad remarried to a terrible woman. She was okay at first - Dad was happy not to be alone and she seemed like a good woman. But when Dad got hurt and couldn't work, she changed into a real queen bitch".

Becky continued, "She ruled the house and made me do all the work. Dad couldn't do much of anything to stop her because she would run over him too. Then came the day he passed away because of pneumonia that he got from being bedridden for so long. The day he passed away was the day I moved out. I knew that with no one around to keep her even a little under control, she would be a demon to live with!"

She carried on, "That was about four years ago, I guess, and I have been hopping around ever since. At first, I stayed with friends, but that couldn't last forever and after awhile I had run out of warm places to stay. If I got lucky, I could get into a shelter or something for the night."

She finished with, "Otherwise, it was sleep wherever I could. I've spent nights in doorways and under footbridges, slept on park benches and bus stops. I even spent a couple nights in storm drains when it wasn't raining," she said.

“Did anything ever… happen to you?” I asked,“ I mean the places you have said, they aren’t very safe - well except for the shelter, and those probably aren’t all that safe either.”

"When you live on the streets, you take what the streets give you," she said, her voice getting soft again, "Yes, I have been robbed, beaten up and raped and worse. I have had to suck off guys for a few bucks to eat, or to get a ride someplace. I have had to sleep with guys just to have someplace warm when it got really cold out… you do what you have to to survive, Kevin."

Listening to her tell how hard her life had been to this point made me shiver. I knew that there were stories like this out there - I wasn’t so naive as to think this sort of thing didn’t really happen. It hadn’t happened to me or anyone I knew personally, but I watched the news, and I knew what was going on around me.

“I’m sorry that things haven’t been easy for you, Becky. You seem like a sweet girl and it’s a shame that you have had it so hard. But you are with me now; at least for tonight, you are safe and warm and fed,” I said.

Becky took my arm and hugged it, laying her head on it. “And for that, I am very grateful Kevin,” she said.

“So what’s your story, Kevin? How did a good looking, caring, father become a rent-a-cop?” she asked, hoping to change the subject and get onto something brighter.

"Well, I used to be a regular street cop, but my wife at the time couldn't handle it. She would worry herself sick every time I went to work and it got to be more than she wanted to deal with. She told me I either quit the force or she would quit the marriage. So I left the police department and tried a few different jobs after that."

I explained, "I worked construction, tried an office job, and some other things, but nothing seemed right. I started getting really depressed, not being able to find a decent job to support my family and finally, Emily, my wife, had had enough."

I continued, "Ten years ago she left me and moved to Texas with my daughter Rachael. It's been about eight years since I have seen her, and four years since I last saw Rachael. After she left, I found this job and it is the closest thing to being back on the force I can get," I told her.

"Damn, that's too bad. I know if I were your wife, I would be proud to have you be a cop. I would worry, sure, but I would still be proud. Of course, we might have to transfer to a small town, but you would still be a cop!" she said. Her eyes sparkled and gave her smile some competition as she looked up at me. "So how old is your daughter?"

“Let’s see… she’s twenty-two next month as a matter of fact. I have to remember to send her a present and a card,” I said.

“Wow! Two years younger than me!” Becky said. “Maybe I should call you Daddy!” Becky giggled at the remark.

“Don’t make me feel any older than I am, young lady!” I said.

“Aww, don’t you worry about that, you are plenty young enough for me!” she giggled again.

That made me feel good. I don’t know why, but knowing I was still attractive to her made me feel a lot better about myself. I’m sure a swaggered a bit more and stood a little taller after that!

We continued on our rounds and when it came time to go check offices that had sensitive materials, she waited out in the hallway just as she said she would. I didn't have any problems at all with her and in fact, I thoroughly enjoyed having her tag along. It made the night go by a lot faster.