by K. S. Adkins
This went on until his eighteenth birthday. Only I didn’t know he was legal when I made the last call.
Because of me, he was put out on the streets with nothing but the clothes on his back. Luckily, I was able to con some guys he knew into taking my money and getting an apartment together. Then I watched the kid get a job, hang with his friends and start to make a life for himself. And through it all, he always found time to hang with me too.
I offered him what I could careful not to be too pushy for fear he’d run or search for his brother.
He never spoke of Michael directly. Just about their shared loved of Mustangs.
So, I bought one.
He was hell bent on becoming a PI so I took him under my wing to make sure it happened. the right way, the safe way.
And through it all, I never told him the truth. I couldn’t risk him walking away.
This kid who was more man than a lot of men I know, only ever wanted one thing from me.
He wanted me to love him.
In trying to make him into a strong, independent human, I didn’t give him the one thing he needed most.
The words.
Because, I could have lost him tonight.
Michael may hold care for his little brother but he was ten times the criminal now than he was all those years ago. Allowing Pita any kind of contact with him was not a reality I would allow. Though, I was sure Michael went out of his way to frighten him so he’d never look again, I saw it in the kid’s eyes and knew he wouldn’t.
At least now he knew first-hand why I had done it and we could move forward.
As long as I live, I’ll never forget hearing the fear in his voice or seeing him tied up and in pain.
I promised to take care of him and I had failed.
And yes, I was aware of the act he was laying it on thick but, I let it go, giving my real tears time to dry up.
Knowing he’d call my bluff, I tell him, “I tolerate you,” to continue our game.
But when his eyes turned red, showing me how vulnerable he truly was and he whispers, “Do you want to know my name?” I quit playing the game.
Taking his face in my hands, I look him dead in the eyes and say, “Your name is Matthew Alan Reinhart, you were born on October 2, 1998. You weighed 7 pounds, 7 ounces and were 16 inches long.”
“You know my name,” he says as the tears roll down his cheeks.
“I do and you also know I adore you, Matthew. You are ours, always.”
Looking up to Dion, who had thrown his arm over my shoulders to comfort me, Pita asks us, “Ours?”
“You’re mine too, kid.”
Throwing himself in our arms, he hugs us with a strength I didn’t know he had and yells, “I have a family!”
As our moment concluded, I checked the room to find we were the only ones in it.
At least in this, Michael made the right decision.
With Dion’s back out and Pita likely needing stitches or that tetanus shot I say, “Let’s get my men to a doctor.”
Neither one argued with me.
It took three days of muscle relaxers and Mercy fawning over me for my back to finally loosen up.
Three days I milked her undivided attention for all it was worth.
Even the kid hung out and showed me what was trending on Netflix.
Though it went unspoken, we needed that time together. Each of us knew Pita’s rescue could have gone a lot differently and had it, we wouldn’t be a family finding their way right now.
While that nightmare still rode me hard, the kid refused to leave Mercy’s side and for the first time ever, her one-liners were absent.
Now that I was mobile again, I was meeting Roger for lunch where I planned to make him an offer he won’t see coming. Or, maybe he would. Mercy and Pita were also having lunch but on the other side of town with Diane joining them.
Slapping me on the back, my best friend takes the seat across from mine and says, “You’re out, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I’m out.”
“You’re not going to ask me how I knew?”
“Hadn’t planned on it, no.”
Smiling he eases back in his seat explaining, “It’s the same thought that crosses my mind every damn day, Dion.”
“So, we sell,” I shrug liking the idea.
“We sell,” he agrees. “How’s Mercy and the kid?”
“They’re good,” I smile proudly. “Real good.”
When my pocket buzzes, I pull it out laughing, “Speak of the devil.” Answering, I no sooner said hello that Pita was screaming, “She’s going to kill me!” and fuck me, there was real fear in his voice.
“Where are you?”
Squealing the address in my ear, Roger and I piled into my truck and hauled ass to their location. Based on the crowd surrounding them, the kid wasn’t kidding; she really was going to kill him.
Exiting the truck Roger asks, “Does this happen often?”
But I wasn’t able to answer because Pita barreled into me hanging on for dear life. With murder in her eyes, Mercy stomps up to us and bellows, “You want to make big boy choices, Pita? Then you don’t hide behind, Dion. Let him go and face me like a man.”
“Nope,” he insists clutching me tighter.
“Listen to her, kid,” I advise calmly.
“Not a fucking chance, old man,” he says planting himself by my side.
“I’d like to see what happens when he lets go,” Roger adds. “Come on, kid. She’s not going to kill you.”
“Oh yes I am,” Mercy huffs. “Hi Roger, how are you?”
“Hi Mercy, better than the kid.”
“What’d he do?” I ask her.
“Why don’t we let him share with the class?”
“I said I was sorry,” he whispers in shame.
“Pita here didn’t just poke his nose where it didn’t belong with Michael, he also decided to snoop around my old open cases file.”
“Fuck,” I groan glancing at the kid. “Why Pita?”
“I wanted to show her I could do it,” he says in a small voice.
“They weren’t closed for a reason, Pita!” she shrills. “They were too dangerous! Even I knew that! But no…you went behind my back and started asking questions. And even when shit started going south, you kept doing it!”
“Mercy, I said –”
“Not only that,” she continues. “When he got caught, he told these people he was working for me. Which explains the real bomb in my shop and the fake bomb strapped to my chest!”
“Shit,” I spat at Pita.
“Should have come clean, kid,” Roger whistles.
Grabbing Pita by the shirt, she gets in his face screaming, “They could have killed you!”
When the kid shrinks into me, I hold him steady to face her wrath. He earned it. “Had you been there…” she wails. “They blew the place thinking you were inside of it, Pita!”
“I wanted to tell you,” he whispers. “I even tried –”
The kid was shaking, she was a live wire and it was time for me to intervene.
Taking Pita by the neck, I level with him. “When a real man fucks up, he mans up. He does not lie, he does not hide. Own it, kid. Here and now, take a stand.” Facing her I add, “He knows he did wrong, he knows he disappointed you and broke your trust. He’s hurting, Mercy. Let him speak.”
“Fine,” she snaps. “So speak.”
The kid looks up at me for help and I gave him the nod to go for it.
He shocked Roger and I both when he broke away and launched himself at Mercy. Already twice her size, Pita took her in his arms and whimpered, “I just wanted to make you proud.”
Closing her eyes, she latches on promising him, “I’ve always been proud, Pita. You don’t put yourself in danger for anyone’s approval. Especially mine.”
“I’m sorry, Mercy,” he wails out and it wasn’t easy watching the kid fall apart.
“Hey,” she says looking up at him. “It’s done, it’s over
. You’re safe, you learned your lesson. Okay?”
“Am I still yours and Dion’s?”
Hugging the kid’s middle, she vows, “No matter how big you fuck up, you’ll always be ours.”
“Superhero,” he grins big. “Told you.”
“Whatever,” she rolls her eyes.
“No one’s dying?” Roger jokes.
Pulling the two of them to me, I hold them close smiling at my best friend. “No one’s dying. The three of us have some living to do.”
It’s been two weeks since the kid came clean and along with that peace came change.
Pacing my living room, wringing his hands and glancing nervously at me, it was obvious Pita thought he was in trouble again. Luckily, he wasn’t and I was able to clear his mess up with a few phone calls along with the promise to destroy all the files. The relief on his face was proof he’d learned his lesson, albeit the hard way. I should mention it also didn’t hurt when I demanded Michael aka ‘Stang' throw his weight in backing his brother. He owed him that much and he’d pulled through.
Last night, Dion explained he and Roger were putting the den on the market. Dion wanted to be my partner on a permanent basis; Pita mentioned college; Ember called to tell me she met someone, and if there was a time to bring things full circle, it was now.
Serving my men dinner, I no sooner sat down that Pita blurts, “I can’t take the pressure. Am I in trouble?”
“No,” I fight the urge to snort. “Not this time.”
“Relax, kid,” Dion does laugh. “Tonight is just dinner and conversation. This is what families do.”
Skeptical, Pita mumbles, “Bullshit.”
“We also do this,” I say tossing him his gift.
Catching it mid-air, he opens his palm, blinks a few times and then frowns at the keys in his hand. “You want me to move your car?”
“Pita,” I chuckle. “I want you to drive your car.”
The kid blinks once, twice and whispers, “You’re giving me the Mustang?”
“It’s always been yours. I was just waiting for the right –” I was unable to finish because the kid had cut me off by burying his face in my chest.
“I love the Mustang,” he says to my cleavage.
I know he did. Early on, talking about he and Michael’s big plans to restore one was a dream the kid held on tight to. His brother may not have a place in his life, but at least he had a piece of him to remember him by.
The best piece.
“I’m not done.”
“Am I moving in with you and Dion too?” he asks playfully.
“I claimed you as a brother, not my kid,” I snort. “But I do need someone to stick around my house and water my plant.”
When tears fill his eyes, he whispers, “I could help with that.”
Handing him a brochure I explain, “You also need your license. I’m tired of you riding shotgun.” A lie and we both knew it judging by his smirk.
“Anything else, Boss?”
“Yeah,” I say pulling him back to me for a hug. “Welcome home, Pita.”
“Mercy?” he asks quietly.
“Hmm?”
“Do you think Ember likes backseats?”
Laughing loud, I gave him a soft punch in the shoulder mumbling, “Pain in the ass,” with Dion smiling like he’d just won the lottery. Once the laughter died down and the men went to the garage to check out Pita’s ride, I loaded the dishwasher finally allowing myself to let the guilt go. Pita would be okay, actually, he would be more than okay. As for me, I’d finally done right by him and the reward was sweet.
The kid was well on his way to becoming the man he was mean to be.
Later when they come back inside, his joy was contagious. Bumping shoulders with Dion, Pita asks me, “If I get the Mustang what are you going to drive?”
Winking at Dion, I suggest, “The most expensive car his money can buy.”
Kissing my forehead, Dion adds, “Then it’ll be a fucking tank.”
Hours later, I was totally eavesdropping when I heard Pita ask Dion, “Mercy doesn’t have a plant, does she?”
Pulling him in for a one arm hug Dion answered back, “No kid, she doesn’t.”
For the first time in my life I felt like the superhero he believed me to be.
A lot has changed over the last few months.
Roger and I had a deal pending on the den. He and Diane were pregnant with their first kid. Pita surprised us by getting grants and enrolling in college all on his own and the PI business was booming. And, I’m proud to say that I’ve become very good at apprehension (with Mercy’s help and my Pumas).
Also, I take my woman on dates every chance I get and at least once a week, we meet Roger and Diane for dinner. Tonight, we’re enjoying the atmosphere at The Townhouse.
Passing the rolls to Diane, I proudly inform her, “We even have a 100% closed case rate.”
“That’s really…wow. So, you actually chase people down on foot?” she asks with wide eyes.
“We, in the business, call it a foot-hunt.”
“Bullshit,” Mercy chuffs. “Diane, he’s making that up.”
“I think it’s exciting,” she blushes. “Can you keep up with Mercy yet?” Because it’s a well-known fact that I can’t.
“Burn,” Mercy says covering her mouth.
“Not yet,” I wink. “But she’s not getting any younger.”
Kicking me under the table, she plays at mad when Roger offers, “How about a race?”
Leaning in, Mercy says, “I must insist on a bet. What are the terms?”
“Bragging rights,” Diane claps. “Winner gets bragging rights.”
“Aww, but I already have those,” Mercy pouts.
“Afraid you’ll lose?” I taunt her but when she looks beyond me, she gets the smuggest look on her face. It was the look of victory. “What?” I ask searching the room.
“Remember the Deluca case that just came in?”
“The false personal injury claim?”
“Yeah that one,” she nods.
“What about it?”
“He just walked in.”
“Are you serious?” I ask searching the restaurant for him. Tossing her napkin down, Roger had already contributed a wad of cash and was helping Diane up when Mercy whispers, “Bragging rights,” and takes off like a shot.
“Mother fucker,” I growl crumbling up my napkin.
“She’s really fast,” Diane observes.
“She’s a God damn cheater!” I howl, tripping over a chair to chase her.
“I’ll get the car!” Roger says ushering his wife out.
“I’ll get the bragging rights.”
Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.
Out in front, I climb in to the front seat of Roger’s sedan while we search the streets for my woman. “There!” I yell when I spot her being pulled down the sidewalk as she holds onto his coat. No sooner did he break free, we were there to pick her up. “He’s getting away!” she complains and actually stomped her cute little foot.
Eager to bust this asshole, who’s managed to elude us and with adrenaline riding me hard, I order her to, “Get in the fucking car!”
Hands on her hips, she plants herself, refusing to move. “Uh oh,” Diane says biting her lip.
“This ought to be good,” Roger chuckles.
“Would you like to try that again?” she asks calmly.
“Mercy –”
“Dion –”
“Would you just get –”
“My own apartment? A new partner? Implants? Oh, I know… a male prostitute.”
Swallowing my pride, I take a deep breath and start over. “Mercy, the most beautiful, talented, fastest PI in the world, would you do me the honor of riding with me to apprehend the fucking idiot who’s getting away?”
“Happy to!” she says skipping over.
Snagging her around the waist, I take her mouth fiercely before releasing her. “I wanted my kiss.”
“Dion?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m totally getting bragging rights on this one.”
She was not wrong.
I was keeping pace right beside her when I rolled my fucking ankle, thus forfeiting my win.
As I rolled around in agony, I made peace with the fact that she’d always out run me. But that was just as well since I lived for the chase.
And despite the pain, I laid there smiling because I got Mercy, which made me the true champion.
For a woman who lives to solve mysteries, it wasn’t easy to admit that they got one over on me.
I was still trying to figure out how he and Pita bought rings without me finding out but, neither would spill.
Thick as thieves, those two. When they weren’t co-fixing the Mustang, they were doing other things.
Like Dion helping Pita study, prep for his driver’s test and hone is female game.
With Ember off the market, Pita was currently scouting, ‘new talent.’
And I’m proud to say he had them lining up.
Apparently, young women loved a man in a suit.
When Dion proposed, I found it unbelievably sweet that he needed a little liquid courage to do it. He even gave Pita a few sips too because the kid was tripping over his words while trying to give me a second ring.
A beautiful band with his birthstone in it.
The same band that surrounds my engagement ring.
And I adored the fact that they both called Ember to ask permission to be in my life, forever.
So of course, I said yes.
While Dion and I spent all of our time together, Pita had made friends and was starting his life away from us. Between work, living at Dion’s place, and keeping an eye on the kid, I hadn’t been back to see my mom.
Dion reminded me that the longer I stayed away the harder it would be for me to go back.