“Smaller airports dinnae attract as much attention. Ye can typically bribe yer way into being nonexistent. But in this case, I have an old buddy that works at the airport. He’s gonna make certain that no one remembers we were there. “
“What kind of voodoo Harry Potter shit is he going to pull?”
“Are ye hungry, lad?”
I roll my eyes at him, still not getting what is up with this man and feeding me.
“I could eat.”
His eyes dart around, and he turns into a store, bypassing the fast-food restaurants.
I groan at the ridiculous man. “A burger would be nice.”
“And I’ll make ye one when we get to Wick. Just because I cannae cook ye something doesn’t mean I’m going to fill yer belly full o’ artificial food and junk.”
Staring longingly at the Golden Arches, I follow him into the store. Once we’re inside, all I see is healthy shit everywhere. Every color of green and all the other colors of the rainbow fill the tables and coolers. There’s not a potato chip or a gummy candy in sight.
I start to wander off in the search of something that’s not a leafy green veggie or something else equally gross.
He grabs a hold o’ me and says, “Oh, no. There’ll be no wandering off to gorge yerself with chips and candy.”
UGH!
I fold my arms over my chest, my lip poking out in a pout. The injustice of it all burns within me, making me want to wail at it, but I gave him control, and I sure as shit don’t want it back.
“Yes, Daddy,” I murmur.
He pulls me against his side and kisses my temple. The feeling that engulfs me overwhelms my senses, filling me with joy. I am so relieved we are still in this together. That he didn’t walk away from me. He understands me and what I need. Even when I sometimes don’t. I think that is the most important part. He understands me on a level that I don't even understand myself. I hope I provide him with the same, and if I don’t, then I hope I figure my shit out quickly because he deserves it.
Following this hulking giant of a man through the store, I watch him pick up and discard item after item. Smelling them, squeezing them, it’s all very strange. Or maybe I’m what's strange. I mean, I'm a twenty-five-year-old man and I’ve never gone to the grocery store.
“Why are you doing that?” I ask.
“What do ye mean?”
“Why are you smelling them and squeezing them?”
He looks at me curiously but holds out a melon to me. “Here. Smell this.”
Returning the curious glance, I do as he orders. Leaning forward, I smell the melon. The sweet, fruity goodness I’ve come to love tickles my nose. I’d never had a cantaloupe before Draven fed me some.
“You can smell the fruit!” I exclaim.
“Aye, ye can. That’s how ye tell if they’re ready to eat. Every food is different in what is the best way to tell if they are or arenae ripe but smelling and squeezing them is always a good start.”
I’m sure he’s flabbergasted at all the shit I don’t know. Most people would be. I wasn’t raised to make my way in the world. Once my mother died, I was only kept alive to die at the right moment.
CHAPTER NINE
DRAVEN
It istimes like these I remember just how neglected my boy has been his entire life. No one took any time with him. No one taught Tavish how to care for himself, how to shop for himself, not even how to buy groceries.
It's extremely sad that a man twenty-five years old and smart as my boy is, cannot even buy groceries or know how to choose fresh fruits and vegetables. It’s probably why he spends all o’ his days eating chips and gummy candies, whilst drinking juice and energy drinks.
I finish picking out a few items, including some healthy snacks for the car, as well as some cutlery and storage items, before getting us out o' the store. Back in the car, I hand Tavish some o' the prepackaged items before looking for a spot for us both to rest for a while.
“What’s this?” he asks.
