“Dada!” he exclaims, losing interest in his picture he turns to me.Is that a smile? Well, fuck, it really could be.
“Watcha drawing?” I ask, looking at the paper in front of him. As I do, my eyes narrow. In fact, his work needs no explanation. He’s drawn a recognisable picture of Trixie, right down to the curves of her ass that peep out from her too-short skirt. Itcertainly shows the boy’s got talent for detail. That he could be artistic had never crossed my mind.
Part of me wants to tell him the subject matter isn’t appropriate, but I tamp that thought down. “This is excellent,” I tell him, tapping the paper. “Really good, Trip.” And seeing how he’s obviously been engrossed in his task, file that thought away as another idea of how to amuse him.
“You eaten?”
“Has he!” Pippa snorts. “We know who’s been sneaking the bacon, don’t we, Trip?”
There’s a quick quirk to his mouth – the boy who had been slow to show any indication of emotion before Bron got him away from his odious father, and the woman who’d supposedly been raising him.
“Ba…con.” He points to his mouth.
While I nearly fall to the floor in shock, without missing a step, Pippa tells him, “I think you’ve had enough. How about some toast?”
His grin disappears, but he gives her a nod.
Standing, I move closer to Saint’s woman, and give her a quiet, “Thank you.”
Her voice low, she tells me, “It’ll be slow going, and who knows how much progress he’ll make, but I think there’s a lot more to Trip than anyone would have expected.”
Unasked, Sweetie has already buttered a piece of toast for him. “Here, Trip. I made it especially for you.” As she smiles at him, his mouth twists, obviously copying her expression.
“Short. Sit down. Everyone else has already eaten. I’ve saved some for you.” I thank Trixie as she places a full plate in front of me, and my stomach growls in appreciation.
Wasting no time, I tuck in.
Just as I’m finishing, I recognise the sound of bikes approaching. “Sounds like New Mexico’s here,” I tell the women,as I stand and give them my empty plate. Then, seeing as Trip’s gone back to his drawing, I leave the room to give them space to prepare for the next influx of hungry bikers.
