“Do you feel safe with us?” she asks.
“Yes,” I agree again.
“And how do you know? What part of your body says that you’re safe?” Miles prods, his expression soft and patient.
I think about it for a long moment. “My stomach is calm when you’re around. It doesn’t twist or get nervous like it does at the dentist.” He nods, his smile growing. “And my heart doesn’t race like it does when I have to do weapons training.” His smile falters. “And my brain doesn’t tell me to run away like it does sometimes.”
“What times?” he asks right away, sitting up straighter.
I try to hide in Char’s hair, knowing I’m going to be in trouble. I shouldn’t have said that.
“Skylar,” she says, her voice harder than it had been before. It’s her business voice. The one she uses when she works.
I don’t know what Char and Miles do, but I know she’s in charge and bosses men around. And they listen. I want to be her when I grow up.
With a huff, I pull away and look at the floor. “Sometimes,” I whisper, “When you’re working and I’m supposed to be in my room, I sneak out.” Her body goes tense under mine, and Miles curses. My eyes go wide. “That’s a dollar in the jar, Uncle Miles.”
He pulls his wallet from his pocket and drops it on the desk. “I have a feeling I’ll be needing more than a dollar before we’re done here.”
Char pokes my belly softly. “On with it, missy.”
“I like watching you work,” I say, smiling at her, hoping she’s not too mad. She just tilts her head, waiting for me to go on. “I really do. You’re so smart and brave and—”
“Skylar,” Miles says again. “What did you see?”
“Not much!” I blurt. “Just you saying hi to a bunch of people at the front door.”
“And?”
“AndIfollowedyoutothemeetingroom,” I say it all in one word, then take a deep breath before turning wide eyes to Char. “You have really mean friends.”
She hisses, and Miles curses three more times in a row. I give him a look, and he jumps to his feet and gently tosses me his wallet. “Take it all, chipmunk.”
I grin, my fingers tearing it open, but Char tugs it from my hands and throws it back on the desk, giving me a stern look. “Why did you follow us?”
I shrug. “I really like to watch you work.”
She stares at me for a long moment, but she doesn’t look mad. “What part do you like to watch?”
Smiling, I tap her cheek. “I love watching you make all the big, mean men sit down and shut up.”
“Oh, mon Dieu!” she gasps before tossing her head back with a laugh. “Enfant méchant.”
My face scrunches. “What’s that one mean?” She’s been teaching me French for the last few months while Miles is working on Spanish, but I’m still having a hard time with a lot of the words.
She lets out a long breath, her cheeks pink, making her freckles and eyes pop. “Rotten, naughty child.” Char slides me from her lap and stands up, moving behind her desk. “So, Mi Cielo. Let’s make a bargain.”
I drop down into the chair across from her and bundle my hands on my lap like this is a real business meeting. “Yes, ma’am.”
She chuckles, and Miles comes to stand next to her. “I understand that you don’t like weapons training, but, unfortunately, it’s a requirement.” I bite my lip, and she gives me a soft look. “We need you to know how to protect yourself, Skye. The world is a big, scary place, but it’s also beautiful. We want you to be able to explore, to have the biggest, most incredible life imaginable, but we need you to be safe while you do it. Does that make sense?”
“Do all kids learn this stuff?” I wonder.
They shoot each other a look before Miles responds. “We promised we’d always be honest with you unless it makes you unsafe to know certain things.” I nod. They did promise that. “Most children, hell, most adults, will never learn the things that you will. But that’s not a bad thing.”
“Why do I have to then?”
“Because you’re special.” I give him a look, and he chuckles. “You’re also too smart for your own good. Tell me, would you rather learn how to protect yourself and others while speaking three languages and kicking boys’ butts or play in the mud?”
