Tate pulled back the covers and Matty took a big leap from where he was standing and landed on one of the pillows. He let out a little giggle and then began positioning all of the stuffed animals underneath the covers on his left side.
“Daddy, I forgot to brush my teeth,” Matty said as he tucked a ratty looking stuffed teddy bear next to his body.
“It’s okay, we’ll skip tonight…but just this once,” Tate admonished as he leaned down to kiss his son’s forehead. “Sleep tight-”
“No,” Matty interrupted. “Story.”
“Not tonight, buddy-”
Matty began shaking his head in earnest and I heard Tate let out a rough breath. He gave me a glance and then finally said, “Just one.”
Something deep in my belly twisted when I saw the smile that lit up the kid’s face as he wrapped his arms around his father’s neck. It was quickly replaced with anger and I had no doubt it was written all over my face as Tate glanced at me before going to search for a book. A look of trepidation passed over his features as he kept onehand on the edge of his son’s bed as he searched the milk crate for a book – he probably wanted to make sure he was close enough to throw his body over his kid’s if I decided to reach for my gun again. Admiration went through me because despite the young man’s obvious and well-founded terror, he was holding it together pretty well and I had no doubt it was all for his son.
“Are you an Avenger? Is that how you got hurt?”
Matty’s question caught me off guard and I reflexively reached up to run my fingers over the burn scars on my face.
“Matty-” Tate said.
“I bet he’s like Captain America, Daddy. He’s a secret hero.”
“Maybe,” Tate managed to get out as he snatched up a book and sat down next to his son on the bed. It took only minutes for Matty’s attention to turn from me to the story his father was telling him, and I had no doubt it was because of the way his father made all the different voices for the characters in the book. The kid was out within ten minutes, a slight smile on his small mouth and his teddy bear tucked against his chest. I expected Tate to shift his focus back on me, but to my surprise, he seemed to forget my presence as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to his son’s forehead. “Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite.”
A mix of longing and rage went through me at the same time and I turned away from the doorway. Sixty minutes…sixty minutes ten years ago was the only reason I was here and not at home with my own kid reading him a bedtime story.
Sixty minutes was all it had taken to wipe out an entire future.
I heard the bed shift and I automatically pulled my gun back out and waited. I didn’t really need the weapon, but I always felt better when it was in my hands.
Tate turned off the light as he pulled the door almost all the way shut. I could see a dim blue light coming from the room and I suspected it was a night light of some kind. Tate’s whole body drew up tight as he turned his attention on me.
“Kitchen,” I said as I waited for him to move past me.
Tate did as I said and I followed him to the kitchen and motioned to one of the two vinyl chairs. The décor of the apartmentleft no doubt that the dump had either come furnished that way or the man was a thrift store shopper. The only light that was on in the kitchen was the one above the stove so I flipped on the overhead light and went to sit down across from Tate. He had his hands fisted on his thighs but his eyes were darting around the kitchen.
“Don’t bother,” I muttered as I laid my gun down on the table in front of me and leaned back in the squeaky chair.
“What?” Tate asked cautiously.
“Looking for a weapon,” I said. The flash of guilt in Tate’s eyes was brief, but then he stiffened. Gone was the man who was terrified for his kid. The man in front of me was…determined. It was the only word I could come up with for the way he pinned me with his gaze. A strange fluttering sparked in my gut.
“Where are they?” I asked, ignoring the unexpected sensation.
“I don’t know,” he said quietly. His eyes were on my fingers which were resting near the butt of my gun. “I haven’t seen them in a couple of years.”
“You really want to make that kid in there an orphan?” I threatened as I motioned towards Matty’s room.
Tate paled and swallowed hard but as scared as he was, he didn’t take his eyes off me. “I’m telling you the truth.”
“Then tell me more of it.”
“The last time I spoke to my father and Denny was right before I left home with Matty.”
“Where’s home?”
“Lulling, Texas.”
“Never heard of it,” I said.
