He stands up pushing from the table, “I said, I’m going to pay for it when we get home… and not in the way I’d like,” He leaves as others follow suit. Rawlings stays behind.
I twist towards him, “You going to rip my ass a new one?”
“Nope. It sounds like you have your own personal hell waiting for you.” He says, getting out a cigarette to light it.
“That coming from experience?” I ask.
“If you only knew.” He takes a drag of the cigarette in his hands and a cloud of smoke circles the room.
I leave the room, knowing that the next few days are going to be the longest ahead of time. Within the common room, Joaquin is already at work typing away at his computer. I walk towards his propped up feet, kick at them, grabbing his attention, “Come on, we got a weasel to chase.”
Without hesitation he grabs his pack and jogs to catch up to me. Someone had a debt to pay or it would be another day in hell.
Chapter 8
Lottie
“Lottie,whycouldn’twejust stay in bed.” Finn whines behind me, as he trails. I turn back at him, from sipping our coffee from the Angry Dog.
“For someone who hates staying in the house sure is whiny.” I peer at him through my sunglasses. The weather is quickly changing and turning into brisk weather. I couldn’t stay in the house honestly, with all the thoughts and feeling like I am out of my skin. Nothing is what it seems. Marcus is home from his own living nightmare. Thankfully, Tessa said that the family will be kept under a watch. I didn’t question, but trust goes both ways.
Finn sips on this strawberry smoothie, his red hair in his face. There’s more to our walk than what I led on. As the city people keep walking by I slow down to have him by my side.
Being a parent that’s not really a parent is hard.
“Bud, we need to talk.” I say, as sincerely and not alarming. The boy lives to be successful, I don’t pressure him, but something in him thrives and drives it. Hence why he talks with someone about it. No child should have the pressure of feeling like they have to succeed to please their guardian or family.
His eyes widened, his body language causing concern, “I haven’t done anything.” A small whisper responds out. I bring him closer to me, wrapping my arm over his shoulders.
“No nomon petit bébé. You didn’t. But what’s one of my rules about us?”
He knows the answer.
“We don’t hide anything and we are honest with each other.” For a ten year old, he is maturer than most.
“Exactly. You remember yesterday,” I ask him. Our strides matching up, syncing into each other. He nods his head.
“Marcus came in and the department went into chaos. Grumpy tried to explain what was going on, but I think you stopped him before he could.” He takes another sip of his drink.
I don’t know what riles me up more, the fact that 5-0 had the nerve to explain what was going on when he didn’t have the answers or the facts... That he was trying to help.
I shake my head, shaking the thoughts of what ifs.
We walk a couple of blocks before we come to an open park area. I have him sit with me on a table. With a released sigh, I prepare myself to explain and keep up with the transparency.
“Alright kiddo, listen. There are some bad people around here. A few years back, we thought a problem with a local gang had vanished or stayed gone. They were recruiting older kids like Marcus. Marcus had run into some trouble and from what he said, he was forced.”
He looks at me with those dark brown eyes staring at me, watching my movements and my expressions.
“What I’m trying to say is that there is danger everywhere. I just need you to be careful for me and try not to get into something that you know isn’t right.” I warn him, I want him to be adventurous and live his life, but I don’t need to worry about him getting into something that he doesn’t need to.
He grabs my hand and pats it. “Lottie, you don’t have to worry about me.” It’s reassuring but I’ll always worry.
“I know, but you also lead with your heart sometimes. I guess I’m just making sure you watch out for your safety. You don’t have to worry about being the hero of someone’s story, at least not all the time.”
“Can I ask a question?” He asks me.
“Sure bud.”
