The moment the others see, they chuckle and crack snide jokes at my expense. Just wait, they'll get their turn as well. I'll make sure of it. Snatching everything up, I hand it off to Roadkill, the prospect, piling him under loads of bright pink. That fucker can have a share of the humiliation. I'm a fucking equal opportunity bastard.
Still holding the bag Roadkill didn't have enough hands for, I open the back passenger door. To my surprise, she’s sound asleep, sitting buckled up in a booster seat, covered in, you guessed it, a fucking Hello Kitty blanket. Seems there’s going to be a theme to this kid.
Fuck, she's fragile looking, and tiny. Her little arm where she's clutching that damn blanket is hardly thicker than my thumb. And she's pale, veins clearly visible under her skin. That thin little face is framed by tons of thick red hair. That and the deep rose of her mouth are the only color she has without that Hello Kitty stuff.
I lean in and search out the seatbelt to try and unbuckle her without waking her. Last thing I need is for her to wake up screaming in my face. My body is already filled with adrenaline from this whole ordeal.
A small whimper escapes her and I freeze, expecting the worst. She makes a face and clutches her blanket tighter. Thank fuck she seems settled again. I consider how to pick her up.
“Chalk, hurry the fuck up. We're turning into fucking senior citizens here waiting on you.”
Startled, I jump and hit my head on the door frame. Takes me a minute to gather my nerve again and duck back inside the car.
Finally, I manage to get her loose and scoop her up. She grabs on to my neck with those skinny little arms and snuggles her head into my neck, and she’s back out like a light. Tension coils in my belly.
Okay.
Okay.
I got this shit.
Shit. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?
The blanket seems like a good place to start and I shift to cover her. Figure I can't go wrong with that. Little kids have to be kept warm. I shuffle the bag I still have over my shoulder and adjust my hold on her, hoping like fuck I don't drop her. Walking like that with a kid and her stuff is not as easy as it looks. Hell, even small as she is, her weight throws my balance off. How people do this on a daily basis I will never know.
Looking left and right, I check for threats and obstacles. Can't let anything fuck this up before we even get started on protecting her. That would be lame as shit.
The guys all look in some kind of trance, wide-eyed and staring. You’d think they’d never seen a kid before. Granted, none of them has a child of their own, at least, not any that they have in their lives.
“Don’t just stand there, open the damn door, Messer.” I try to keep my voice quiet.
The bastard snaps out of it, runs to the door to open it. Abigail starts slipping from my arms. Holding onto a kid is like trying to hold Jello. It don't work. I juggle everything to push her back up. Her little nails grasp the collar of my t-shirt, hanging on.
I’m seriously not cut out for this. I'm just not. I've never even touched a damn kid before, and now I got one sticking like Velcro. That panic attack pushes at my chest again, threatening to hit full blast. I try to deep breathe my way through it, and it finally backs off a little.
One of the club girls runs over oohing and aawing over Abigail. Bitch tries to grab her from me, and something happens I can’t explain. An urge to protect the kid from everything overwhelms me. I fucking snap.
I turn away, shielding the kid with my body. “Bitch, back the fuck up. No one said you could just come up and grab her. In fact, no one said anything to you.”
She pulls her hands back, no longer touching, but she still stays close. “But Chalk, come on. She’s a little girl, let me hold her.” God, the whining these girls do rides my nerves to no end.
It takes all my self-control not to backhand the bitch across the room. “Move, now. Don’t you ever touch her.” I don't want anybody to touch Abigail. With that I push my way past the woman, causing her to stumble hard.
She might be liked by some of the guys, but I’d rather not have anything to do with her. She’s just not my type for anything, especially not for going near Abigail. She shrieks some bullshit about me being the biggest asshole.
I turn and glare. “Don’t like it here? Then leave. You’re nothing but a whore anyways.”
The kid chooses then to wake and scream bloody murder. I drop everything except her. Hands under her arms, I hold her out to dangle in front of me.
“Abigail. Hush NOW.” My voice sounds harsh, but I need some force to get her attention.
Fuck. That makes her scream even louder. Damn, her face is turning purple. Is she even breathing?
I’ll kill that bitch if she causes this kid to die on me. Panic in full force, I try again. “Abigail, quiet. My name is Chalk. Your daddy sent you here. Do you remember why?”
She inhales loudly, and then sniffles while looking up at me. The force of her gaze hits me right in the chest. Her eyes are an impossible shade of blue, and they carry all her emotions in their depths.
When she speaks, it's almost a whisper. “Yes, he’s sent me to make sure I was protected. Bad men want me hurt. You yelled at me. Are you the bad man?”
Oh fuck. This is some tricky shit we’ve gotten ourselves into. Now how to answer without totally lying to her. I wouldn't care, except Vince had said she could spot bullshit.
“Your daddy chose us to protect you. We'll keep you safe from the bad men that want to hurt you. I’m the one that will take care of you. You must always listen to me. Do you understand?” Fuck, I hope that sinks in.
Her little face screws into a thoughtful expression. “Hmm, what’s the secret password?”
Shit. No one said anything about a password. What on earth would be a password for a child to remember? I look around the room, trying to think of anything that might be a password. I turn back to Abigail.
“Um, Hello Kitty.” That’s got to be it, being that it looks like it’s her favorite thing.
She giggles. “No silly, that’s not it. That’s too easy, don’t you know anything about secret passwords? They have to be hard to guess.”
Struggling, I carry her at arms-length, still dangling, and head back to the door. “Vince! Get in here, quick man.”
“What’s up?”
“Did Tucker give us anything special for her? She’s saying that I’m supposed to know a secret password.” There’s no way this is going to work out. She’ll start screaming again any minute if I don’t figure this shit out quick. And I don't think I can take any more of that ear shattering screech.
Vince scowls. “He didn't say shit about a password. What the hell?”
“I didn’t say that, mister.” Abigail wriggles a little, and squeaks as she starts to slip.
I'm forced to bring her to my chest again in order to get a proper grip on her. “Uh, yes you sure as fuck did, Abigail.”
Those blue eyes went wide as saucers. “Ohhhhhhh, you said fuckkkkkkk. That’s not nice.”
“Shit.” I look at her. Damn it. “Don’t say it Abigail. Just pretend you didn’t hear it, okay?”
She tilts her head a little and gives me a serious look. “Hmm, I’ll think about it. Do you have any chocolate chip cookies?”
“Look, back to the issue at hand. What’s this about a secret password?” Vince’s patience is running thin already.
“I just made that up. I like secret passwords. But he yelled at me. So I taught him a lesson.”
Vince shakes his head, looking as confused as I feel. “For fucks sake, Chalk. Get your shit together and don’t let her take over like that. You have to be firm with kids.” He leaves towards the kitchen, muttering about bratty kids.
Abigail stares after him, a sharp and speculative look on her face. “He’s no fun is he?”
“Abigail, he’s like the boss of this place. No more playing little games like that. You’ll get us both in trouble. Now, do you want me to look to see if we have those cookies or
not?”
She wrapped herself around me and squeezed hard. “Yes, sir-ree. Chocolate chip is my favorite.” Lord help me this child is going to get me killed, I just know it.
Chapter Three
Chalk:
Falling back on to the couch, and inhaling deeply, I put my hand over my eyes, trying to just escape for a minute. Abigail is a handful. Vince was right though, she’s smart as fuck. I turned away for a few minutes to grab a smoke and she took it upon herself to start “making” dinner. Consisting of bread and butter. While yes, she got some butter on the bread, it was all over her as well.
I lost my shit, yelled and ended up making her cry, again. Which leads us to our first bath time adventure. There's no way of getting that butter off without soaking her in the tub. We aren’t prepared for this shit. A few hours' notice is not enough to get ready for a little girl in a house full of guys. Even though stuff has been cleaned up a little, and a room emptied for her, we didn't have the stuff to take care of her. We didn't have the right kind of food, or TV, or… well, anything.
Another deep breath helps me gather enough nerve to try the bath thing. I run some warm water and command her into the tub. She looks at me like I'm dumb as a rock for a minute, then drags off her shirt. The damn shirt gets caught in all that hair she has, so I have to help. And then she can't get her shoes off. Or her pants unbuttoned. Fuck me. I spend the next ten minutes trying to keep my eyes on the ceiling and help her get undressed and into the tub. Helping a kid, especially a little girl, is about the most uncomfortable situation I can imagine.
She climbs in and gives the water a half-assed splash. “Where’s the bubbles? I can’t take a bath without bubbles, or it’s not a bath.”
I sigh, exhausted. “We don’t have bubbles this time, it’s still a bath. You’ll just be using my soap this time.” Who knew one kid could put a grown man on the ropes so quickly?
Her little lip pokes out in a pout. “But my daddy always has the bubbles for me.”
“Abigail, we don’t have any. You’re just going to have to not have any this time.”
Just then she starts the tears, and next thing you know she’s screaming again. “I want bubbles!” Damn, that kills me. I'll do just about anything to make it stop.
Vince walks in and takes in the situation. He looks completely out of his element, and I know I do, too. At least his discomfort makes me feel slightly better about this whole thing.
“Hey, quiet! You sure do have a set of lungs on you, don’t you?” Vince gets her attention and she stops the tears just like that. The way this kid turns the waterworks on and off gives me whiplash.
“You’re not supposed to be in here.” And just like that, she starts with the tears again and screaming. But this time, she's not worried about bubbles, and the scream takes on a quality very close to nails on a chalkboard. “HELP, STRANGER!!” The hair on my neck stands up as she raises it a few more decibels, into the impossible range.
A horrified expression settles on Vince's face, along with his regular frown. “God damn it, Chalk. What the hell is her problem? Get that damn brat to shut up already.”
I rub absently at my chest, trying to still the panic attack I can feel rising again. “I don’t know, man. It was all about bubbles until you come walking in. Why don’t you just leave? Maybe she’ll calm down.” I'm losing my grip, and if that shriek continues much longer, I'll kill somebody.
He scowls harder. “Fine, and only because I have a migraine coming on. Get her to understand what the program is and quick, or you’ll be pulling extra duties.”
What the hell extra duties are left for me to pull? Shit. He leaves, slamming the door behind him. All of a sudden, Abigail is nice and quiet, playing with the kitchen sponge. Yeah I know. That’s all we have, though. Worn out all over again, I slump down onto the toilet seat.
Abigail giggles. "Hey Chalk, you forgot to pull your pants down. You can't pee yet."
God help me. "I'm just sitting here, Abigail. I'm tired and there's nowhere else to sit."
She screws up her little face while she considers my reply, then nods and goes back to playing with the sponge.
“What the fuck was all that about Abigail? Why did you scream like that when Vince came in?”
She pokes that lip out again. “I don’t like him. Daddy says only him or people that take care of me can see my secret spots. That man didn’t even knock. That’s not very nice. He's rude. You said I have to listen to you and you’re my guard. Not him. He’s not allowed in here. You tell him, no more peeking or coming in without knocking, 'kay?”
Oh for fucks sake. I am not even sure how to go about this conversation. At a total loss, I decide to leave her for a few moments. “Clean up and be good, I’ll be right outside for a few minutes. Okay?”
“Okay, and you’ll come back, right?”
“Yes, Abigail. If you need me, just call out.”
***
A low key party is in full swing out in the main room. Abigail went to sleep a little while ago without much fuss. With all the changes she went through today, no wonder she fell asleep fast. I don't blame her one bit.
Tomorrow starts the first full day with her, and I'm at a total loss. She'll need whatever kind of medical things done in the morning, and then who knows what. I'm fucking glad Tucker gave us a damn file. She's a complicated kid. But for tonight, I'm taking advantage of her being asleep.
Twisting the cap off my Coors, I take a long drink. The ice cold beer soothes my nerves that have been shot to hell and back today.
The sound of annoying laughter from two chicks across the room grabs my attention. They're not even trying to hide the way they're eye fucking me. They're hot enough, I tilt my head and give them a wink.
“Hey Chalk, come here for a minute.” Vince calls from the kitchen bar.
What could he possibly want now? The damn chair has a hard time letting go of my ass, since I'm fucking exhausted. I make my way over to him, more than a little pissed, since I had to find a way around Tank and the skinny blonde he had on the floor with her head in his lap.
That damn ever-present scowl on Vince's face is even darker than usual. “Take a seat. We have some things to go over about this brat before the party gets going too much more.” He takes a look around the room. We aren’t too rowdy yet, but Roadkill over there is throwing back a line of shots, as the guys cheer him on. Won’t be long now. I chuckle, remembering my prospect days, rough as hell, but never regretted it once.
The line of shots as punishment just about killed me though. My smartass mouth got me into too much trouble. Since then I’ve kept my mouth shut unless talked to, or at least tried. Lesson learned after having racked up numerous reasons for them to add another shot to the line. I’m still not always successful, but I’m a full member now anyways, so I don't have to go through all the hazing bullshit a prospect does. Lost in the memory, I miss a few things Vince says.
“So, about her being sick. Tucker gave me the four-one-one on exactly what’s wrong with her, and what we’ll have to do. Apparently she has some rare-ass form of Muscular Dystrophy. It’s called Central Core Disease. You’re the smart one of the bunch so you ever heard of this?” He looks to me.
I think back, trying to remember when I was in the Army. I read a lot textbooks during my downtime in Iraq. Mostly medical-related stuff, since our medic had the only big stash of books in camp. Besides, seemed like it’d come in handy at one point or another in my life.
“Yeah I know a lil’ bit about that, but never heard of that particular type. From what I remember, there's a shit-ton of different forms of it. I’ll have to look into it more. But M-D isn’t good, man. Did he say when they found out?” Knowing when she was diagnosed might help me figure out what she’ll be like later on. That disease is so damn tricky. No textbook cases from what I remember though.
“Alright, do that. All he said was she’s had this her entire life. Her lungs are weak as fuck, even if she can scream like a damn banshee.
She has some breathing meds, and even shots if she gets too bad. Tucker gave us enough for a while, but she’ll have to see her doc for more. She’ll get sick more easily and not recover as fast from the simplest things. Guessing she’ll die from that? I have no fucking clue.”
“What I remember, her muscles will waste away, and eventually there won’t be enough to help fight off infections, and she won't have the strength to even walk. Only thing we can do is try to keep her healthy as possible to keep her alive. Other than that, she’s screwed.” A sick feeling knotted my gut. That poor kid shouldn't have to deal with this kind of shit.
“Well, shit. She looks fine to me? Maybe they’re wrong about her.” Vince looks like he’s a mile away, instead of with me.
“She does, we’ll do whatever it takes to prove those asshole docs wrong, anyways.” I say vehemently.
“Yeah, you will. Remember, without her, there’s no money, though we do get a big pay-out when she kicks the bucket. Now, Tucker gave us a couple of letters from Will, for her to read when she’s older. Keep them safe.” He passes me a shoebox.
“Got it. We done here?” I nod my head towards the girls. Vince looks over and laughs.
“Yeah, go get ‘em. You’ve earned the downtime.” With that he slaps me on the shoulder and walks away.
The shoebox has to be stashed right away, so I take care of that, and head back to the party. The chicks notice they have my attention again. They look at each other before getting up and walking toward me. I head back to the chair I left a few minutes ago. Watching the deliberate sway of their hips, I toss my beer as I pass the trash off to the left. The chair makes a nice comfortable place to relax until they make it across the room.
The way their hips swing has me envisioning all kinds of things I'd like to do with them. Only thing is my illogical rule of only one chick at a time. The rest of the guys will do however many bitches they can get at once, and they don't mind double-teaming, or even triple. Public fucking, or running a train on some bitch in the middle of a party is just normal. I catch all kinds of grief because I like to do my fucking in private, just me and one bitch. I don't know where that shit comes from, but I can't break it. Now I have two that look like they're ready to eat me up. So, who's it going to be? Time to find out.
PAIN Page 2