by Kishan Paul
So, she took the bits and pieces Jayden vaguely recalled and wove them into a work of fiction. A tale in which his nationality was not Pakistani, but Syrian. Where the mother who still visited his dreams died violently during a bombing, and a father he barely remembered had gone missing and presumed dead from the same explosion. Where he and Razaa were both adopted by a lonely broken widow in search of a family, a purpose.
He accepted his fictional past, started attending school with his peers, and she stepped back and let Jayden be Jayden. Oddly enough, it worked to their benefit. The things he shared freely were things he believed to be truths, reinforced by his vague memories. The end result was a group of townspeople who fell in love with him and his family. People who barely knew them but tried to move heaven and earth for her little boy. All of which she saw on full display after his diagnosis.
Her smile faltered as she considered the events of the past eighteen months and the journey yet to come. He’d been pulled out of the school he loved and forced to be a prisoner in his own home. At some point, she’d have to tell the little guy the truth. That even the name she called him was not the one his mother gave him. Unfortunately, the truth would have to be shared sooner than she’d have preferred.
CHAPTER FOUR
RAMBO
Eddie didn’t move from his spot by the front door until Ally retreated to the far hall. While he waited for her to disappear, he enjoyed the salty maple scent of fried bacon permeating the air. His mouth watered and stomach growled, but before he would let himself go in search of the treasure, he had work to complete.
His frown deepened the longer he scrutinized the property. Soft blues and grays hugged the walls, while dark wood panels lined the floors. Twelve-foot-high ceilings were painted white, and mahogany-stained beams ran the length of the upper surface. The morning sun spilled into the home from the half-dozen large windows scattered throughout the open floor plan design. As far as aesthetics were concerned, it looked great. But, much like the main gates, the security was ineffective. Too much open space, too many uncovered windows. With the right tools, curious eyes could easily peer inside their world, and if an unfriendly broke in, they’d be rewarded with a clear unobstructed view of the dining room, living room, and kitchen.
He strode to the dining room and made his way past the glass table to the first set of windows. A little sticker sat proudly in the bottom corner of one of the panes. The brand name and type of glass identified on the blue metallic paper eased a certain degree of his irritation. The glass-clad polycarbonate panels were durable enough to withstand explosions and bullets. Now if only they’d close the damn curtains. After shielding them with the thick drapes, he headed to the living room.
An extra-long, slate-colored sectional with and tangerine-colored armchairs filled part of the room. In the center of the seating arrangement sat a glass coffee table. Asian artwork in shades of orange and yellow lined the walls. He gauged them as he slid the thick curtains over the living room windows, dimming the space. Even the intensity of the colors of her pictures seemed better without the outside glare. After a nod of approval, he went room by room until he’d eradicated all possibility of the residents being surveilled by hostile forces.
Only then did he return to inspect the entrance. The double cylinder deadbolt was adequate. He unlocked and opened the door, running his fingers down the sides, the jamb, and the casing. A three-inch-thick piece of metal stretched the length of the door and sat snug between two dark wood panels. The frame it secured to was just as solid.
After another nod of approval, he shut and locked the door and proceeded farther inside. He palmed the smooth dark wood banister and craned his head for a better view upstairs. On a good note, activity upstairs was impossible to see from the first floor.
He made a mental note to check out the top once he completed the ground level. When he entered the kitchen, he beelined for the patio door with pane glass windows at the end of the giant space. The unobstructed view to the acres of land behind the home disappeared when he shuttered the blinds.
On the white marble countertop across from the stove, he found the reward for his efforts. A plate with a barely eaten pancake, scrambled eggs, and a slice of pork fried to crunchy perfection sat next to an almost full glass of milk with a smudge on the lip. Eddie snagged the brown meat from the plate and bit off a portion of the sweet and salty treat while eyeing the full cup of chai a few feet away.
He lifted the still-warm vessel of creamy brown caffeine and sniffed. Cardamom and ginger filled his lungs. His stomach growled its approval. A sip of the sweet brew washed away the maple salted bacon aftertaste and eased his tense muscles.
He’d wiped out most of the drink and had taken another bite of the meat when footsteps thudded against hardwood stairs.
“Who closed all the curtains?” A small voice echoed through the halls.
A moment later, a kid with a head full of messy brown curls appeared at the entrance of the kitchen. He’d grown a few inches since their last meeting. The round chubby face had stretched out, but those pale green eyes locked on the half-eaten bacon in Eddie’s hand were the same.
“You’re eating my breakfast.”
He swallowed the partially chewed evidence of his theft, feeling a lot like the golden-haired girl in the nursery story who snuck inside the bears’ house and ate their food, half expecting Papa or Mama Bear to show up and kill him.
As soon as he thought it, the four-legged bear in question appeared. A pair of icy blue unblinking eyes scrutinized him and was one of the most beautiful creatures he’d ever seen. Its belly and legs were pale white while its coat a shiny ebony. It slanted its head, eyeing Eddie, trying to decide what to do with the intruder. After a slow short wag of acknowledgment, it trotted toward him.
Eddie forced his gaze on Little Bear while Papa Bear smelled the piece of meat clutched in his hand. “Your friend looks like he might eat me.”
The little boy grinned, revealing two missing front teeth. “Zeus doesn’t eat humans, just bacon.”
On cue, the greedy beast snatched the evidence of Eddie’s thievery from his hand and tried to swallow it whole.
“See?”
While the dog chewed on his treat, Little Bear illuminated the kitchen in lights, crossed his arms, and inspected him as well. “You look like us.”
Eddie raised his brows. “Us?”
The curls on his little head bounced when he walked. He headed to the plate of food, picked up his glass of milk, and gulped half of it down in one swallow. “Momma, Bhai, and me.”
“Ahh.” He took in the hollowed cheekbones and deep circles around the child’s eyes. “You mean brown-skinned and good-looking?”
“You’re funny.” Little Bear wiped his face on his sleeve.
Before he could confirm his assessment, the dog shoved its snout into his crotch, making Eddie move back and release a string of colorful curses.
His toothless grin reappeared. “Don’t worry. He knows the difference between your penis and bacon.”
The assurance did little to ease Eddie’s mind. “Does your mother know you talk like that?”
Little Bear poured his remaining milk down the sink before returning the empty glass beside the plate. “Penis isn’t a bad word. Anyway, you just said way worse than that.”
After Zeus finished sniffing, he nudged Eddie’s palm with his nose, let out a soft howl, and lay down on the mat by the back door.
Eddie wandered toward the island and reached out his hand to the kid. “You must be Jayden.”
“I am.” Little Bear nodded at the outstretched palm but didn’t touch him. “But everyone calls me Jay. Except for my mother and teacher, Mrs. Mulroney. They call me Jayden.”
Eddie crossed his arms and surveyed him. “You look more like a Little Bear than a Jayden to me.”
Little Bear tilted his head as he considered the name change. After a while, he shrugged. “I guess you can call me that.” He eyed Eddie. “You don’t loo
k like an Eddie Uncle, either, but Momma said you’re supposed to be cool.”
“Your momma is a smart woman.”
Jay nodded, satisfied with the response. “Want to see my room?”
He opened his mouth to politely refuse, but before he could, the kid left the kitchen and headed toward the front of the house with his four-legged guard close behind.
“Sure,” he said to the empty kitchen. A grin stretched over his face, and his chest swelled as he followed up the stairs. “So, your momma thinks I’m cool?”
Little Bear, with his bodyguard at his side, steered him through the second level, past an upstairs living room, two closed doors, and a full bath, until they arrived at the room at the end of the hall. Walls painted blue, a full-sized bed sat against the farthest side with a Star Wars themed comforter and pillows. A desk and bookcase filled another side of the space.
He gave him an approving nod. “Nice room.”
“Thanks.” Little Bear climbed onto his mattress and positioned his back against the headboard. The dog sprawled out at the foot of the bed and promptly went to sleep.
Eddie wandered to the bookcase and admired the endless rows of action figures positioned across the shelves.
“They’re my army.”
He glanced over his shoulder at Little Bear and the electronic device he gazed at. “You have an army?”
“Yup. I have Aplastic Anemia, and those are the people helping me get better.”
Eddie didn’t respond, instead focused on the hundred-plus figures lining the shelves.
“It’s a blood problem,” Little Bear continued. “My bone marrow doesn’t make enough blood. So, I have to go to the doctors a lot.”
Eddie ran his finger over the plastic figurine of a man in a white lab coat and stethoscope.
“That’s Dr. P. He’s my everything doctor. He’s old but nice.”
He picked up the one in surgical scrubs beside Dr. P.
“That’s Dr. Sayer, my blood doctor. He’s really cool.”
One by one, he lifted each of the individuals on the shelf and listened as Little Bear introduced them and their purpose in his life. “Dr. O, another blood doctor. Nurse Hernandez, she’s really nice, but wears too much perfume….”
When he got to the next row, the characters dressed different. Less medical, more normal. “That’s Mrs. Mulroney, my teacher; Mr. Kirkland, my principal; Mr. Lucas, my counselor; all my friends at school, Sheriff Pearson and the rest of the department…”
It took a long while, but they went through all five of the six shelves. “Looks like you have a big army.”
“Wait until you get to the top. It’s where I keep my weapons.”
He picked up a silver fighter jet from the spot Little Bear indicated.
“And tanks, jets, and I even have grenades.”
Eddie lifted one of the empty pill bottles positioned beside the tanks and jets.
“Those are my WMDs.”
He studied the kid. “Your what?”
“The medicines I take, they’re my weapons of mass destruction. The chemical and biological bombs help me fight the disease. A couple of them taste really bad, and one makes me sick, but trust me, they are dangerous and can kill my enemies.”
“Your mom taught you all this?”
He laughed. “No, she’s a girl. WMDs and artillery stuff aren’t things girls care about. My bhai taught me all that.” He jutted his chin at the case. “He’s up there too.”
Eddie scanned the top, taking in the Wonder Woman and Wolverine characters, who stood front and center of the WMDs and artillery.
“Are you helping Bhai find my donor?”
Eddie’s throat tightened. “We will do our best.”
“Awesome. Want to help me pick out an action figure for you?”
Eddie sat beside him on the bed and inspected the options while Little Bear scrolled through screens of characters. Finally, his enormous eyes brightened. “How’s he?”
He jabbed his finger at the smiling man in a tight blue body suit, a bright red cape hanging down his back. “Capes aren’t my thing, and I don’t wear underwear over my tights.”
Satisfied with the response, Jayden scrolled more. “How about this one?” He pointed at a muscle-bound wrestler wearing nothing but underwear.
Eddie shook his head a second time. “What kind of hero walks around like that? Where would I keep my weapons?”
The kid continued to scroll for a few more screens before Eddie had a thought. “Type in R-A-M-B-O and see what comes up.”
“What’s a Rambo?” he asked as his small fingers punched in the letters and hit search.
“Rambo is not a what, but a who.” Eddie pressed his finger on the screen when a muscular, shirtless man in a bandanna, fatigues, and carrying a rocket launcher popped up. “That, my friend, is Rambo.”
Little Bear oscillated his scrutiny between the image on the screen and Eddie. “His muscles are a lot bigger than yours.”
Eddie’s jaw dropped, feigning offense. “You haven’t seen mine to know.” He rolled up his shirt sleeve and flexed his arm.
Instead of awe and wonder, the kid yawned and slid his tablet off his lap and onto the bed. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not allowed to spend more than five dollars on a person, and that one’s twenty-five.”
Eddie considered the impressive army on the bookcase while the child settled under his covers. “Would Rambo be up on top with Wonder Woman and Wolverine and the guns and tanks?”
“Yup, with my front line.”
Satisfied with his response, Eddie snatched the device and clicked the add to cart button. He put in his credit card specifics before returning it to Little Bear to finish up the shipping information and headed out of the room.
Midway down the stairs, the satisfaction he’d felt a few seconds ago waned. Rays of the morning sun once again lit the bottom floor. Alisha unveiled the last set of closed windows as he descended the final steps. “That’s not a good idea.”
She paused mid-pull, then slid them open, in spite of his caution. “In my home, the curtains stay open.”
He stopped at the foot of the steps. “That seems to be your problem. You’re forgetting this is a safe house, not a home.”
“Trust me, I haven’t forgotten. My problem is that a man who has chosen to be absent from my life for almost three years suddenly shows up and assumes he knows better than I do about what’s best for my family and my home.”
She turned and headed toward the kitchen, leaving Eddie alone in the big room. His hands fisted, and he clenched his teeth. The truth of her words was undeniable, but the hurt in her voice stung as if she’d punched him. Responses to her accusations stuck in his throat. He swallowed them, refusing their entry, and followed her to the kitchen. She was right. He had chosen to stay away, and he’d do it again if it meant keeping her safe. Sometimes it took being an asshole to protect the people he cared about.
CHAPTER FIVE
ALPS
Ally’s irritation dissipated when she entered the kitchen and noticed the finished glass of milk and the bacon missing from Jay’s plate. Since the onset of his AA, his loss of appetite and low energy were the two biggest of the handful of worries consuming her. There were few things that elated her more than to see her son eat. She tossed the mostly uneaten pancake and untouched eggs in the trash before setting the dishes in the sink. When she grabbed her cup of chai, she paused mid-lift, gazing at the inch of tea remaining in the vessel. The porcelain thudded against stainless steel when she placed it in the sink on top of the plate.
“Thanks for the tea.”
Ally rested her back against the sink and crossed her arms at the owner of the voice. His smirk widened under her scrutiny, making the corners of his eyes lift in the process as he approached. He stopped when his socks brushed against her bare toes. His dark brows rose. Hazel eyes full of amusement probed hers, challenging to see if she’d intimidate easy. Eddie enjoyed crawling under her skin and poking at her. S
he stood her ground and repressed the shudder ripping through her when he snaked an arm around her back.
A few strands of silver had crept into his black hair. He seemed taller, more muscular than she remembered. His arm returned a few seconds later with her cup of chai securely in his grasp. “There’s still a bit in there. Don’t waste it.” He tipped his head back and wiped down the last few drops.
“What if I poisoned it?”
When Eddie returned the cup to the sink, his mouth brushed against her ear. “I guess we’ll find out soon then, won’t we?”
The woodsy spicy scent of his cologne warmed her lungs when she inhaled. She slid away from him and headed for the stove to begin the process of making another cup. “How are you?”
“Aside from ignoring you for years and possibly dying from poisoned chai? Never better.”
She grabbed the gallon of milk from the refrigerator. “So why are you here?”
“We had this discussion earlier. You called me.”
She measured equal parts milk and water and poured the mixture in the pan. “And like I said, after the dozen-plus emails and voice messages, why did you choose now to respond?”
“Would you have preferred I didn’t get back to you?”
The rush of water spouting from her sink caught her attention. “A call or text, email even, would have sufficed.”
“Raz was coming. I thought I’d tag along.”