Chapter 2
Jersey
"We may need help," Eli says a second before slurping a milky spoonful of cereal into his mouth.
"You think I'll be helpful?" I ask him with the best grin I can manage.
"The box is really heavy," Eli continues. "I bet you can lift it easily."
I lift my arm, pulling the sleeve of my t-shirt back to reveal my bicep before flexing.
His face lights up. "Yes! You could easily carry the box."
"What am I here for?" Jericho asks his son.
I've been away on another job, and this first day back reminds me why I requested a job that put a little distance between this house and myself.
I don't dislike kids. I think they're great. But interactions with them always hit me square in the chest, and it's more than a little difficult to hide the pain this little boy causes me.
"I could help," Nyx offers, but just the sound of his voice makes Eli jolt .
Nyx is a mean-looking motherfucker. He always seems to be in a terrible mood, and I rarely see the guy smile. When he does, it's more of a sneer.
"Umm," Eli mutters, his eyes darting around the room as if he's looking for a way to escape.
"Actually, you can't," Hemlock says as he stands from the dining room table to take his dirty dishes to the sink. "I have a job for you."
Eli looks relieved, but when he gives Nyx a soft smile, it's clear just how great of a child he really is.
"Maybe next time," the child offers the man.
"You got it," Nyx tells him as he pours his coffee out in the sink, giving the boy a quick, genuine smile.
"His muscles are bigger than mine," I say as I lean in to talk to Eli.
Eli looks around once again, from the looks of it, making sure Nyx won't be able to hear him. "He scares me."
I nod in agreement. "Good thing he's on our team, huh? Sometimes a big scary guy can come in handy."
Eli sits up straight again, and I can see his brain working with the consideration. "Good thing."
The child has been through so much in his very short life, and I can only imagine the work it takes to trust people now that he's safe.
I know that Jericho has assured him he's safe here, but the more people who remind him and prove it through their actions, the safer he's going to feel.
"Hey," Jericho says, his eyes landing on his son.
My heart clenches at the love in the guy's eyes for the child, and it's a feeling I remember all too well.
"Did you find us some help?"
Eli points to me. "He's got big muscles."
"Bigger than his," I whisper, throwing a thumb in Jericho's direction.
Eli giggles like only a seven-year-old child can do, head thrown back, all of his teeth showing .
"You don't have plans?" Jericho asks.
I shake my head. "No place I'd rather be."
It's not exactly the truth, but what I want is impossible to get. Hanging out with Eli will somehow be a balm to my soul as well as one of the more painful things I could choose.
I'm not the first person to lose someone who I loved, and I know I won't be the last, but some days are worse than others. Eli caught me on a better day, but honestly, I don't know if I could've told him no, even if it was a horrible day.
I don't know that I could live with seeing the disappointment in his eyes, not after already failing so many people I was tasked to keep safe. Letting others down might be exactly what it would take to send me off the deep end.
"I'm ready when you are," Jericho says, heading toward the coffee pot. "We have an hour and a half before your friend comes."
I know that “friend” is code for his therapist. Jericho mentioned that Eli has been seeing someone since he was rescued several weeks ago.
"Since you have the big muscles," Jericho says to me with a devious grin. "Grab that box at the bottom of the stairs and carry it up to Eli's room for us."
"Am I the pack mule around here?" I ask as I stand and carry my coffee cup to the sink, but I leave the room with a grin on my face, wondering how long I can keep up the act that nothing in the world is bothering me.
I've used the pain of my past more than once to help me get into character for certain jobs.
Before joining Cerberus, I worked for Immigration and Customs Enforcement, with a specialty in human trafficking.
My crossover job was keeping an eye on Hemlock, the man who was recently named the president of the Gatlinburg, Tennessee chapter.
I sat at the bar, drinking and looking pitiful, while I whined to the bartender, Zara, about my wife leaving with my kids. Zara believed me because my pain was real.
It may make me a solid asshole for drawing on tragedy to get a job done, but there are times in which people believing or not is a matter of life and death.
I still think Hemlock hates me because there were times I flirted with Zara, but we haven't had any serious issues. I imagine there will come a time when he punches me in the face for one reason or another. The man has a temper like I've never seen. He's different only when Zara is around. I'd never make the mistake of thinking that he's weaker because of the woman, but his sanity is easily questioned where she's concerned. His past behaviors are proof of it.
The box at the bottom of the stairs can't weigh more than twenty pounds, but I imagine that's incredibly heavy for Eli, who is undernourished and small-framed.
Sensing the child and his father behind me, I grunt with faux exertion when I lift it so his possible attempts to carry it don't give him some sort of complex. The child is fragile as it is.
I can't imagine Nyx faking something like this, but maybe he'd surprise us all.
I wipe at my dry forehead when I put the box down in Eli's room, smiling at Aspen when she enters just ahead of Jericho and Eli.
"I'm going to draw so many things," Eli says as he walks in carrying a couple of tools.
"I bought extra rolls of paper just to make sure you don't run out," Aspen explains.
I was told last night that the easel we're putting together is to help with his therapy, that kids often draw the things they fear, and that it opens the door for him to discuss them with his therapist. It also allows the therapist to track his progress, as the scary things should transition to less scary things as he improves .
I get to work on opening the box as Eli helps his mom open a roll of paper. There's also a bag with nearly every medium the kid could ask for to draw with—crayons, markers, paints, and even a pallet of watercolors.
"We'll have to get one of those drop cloths before we use these," Aspen says, putting the paint and watercolors to the side.
Eli doesn't argue. I don't know if that's because he easily accepts his mother's rules or if he's too scared to argue or complain.
I pull out all of the pieces of the easel, noting just how easy this is going to be.
"That won't work," Eli says, humor in his tone when Jericho attempts to use a flathead screwdriver on the first section. "See this?"
Eli points to the end of the Phillips head screwdriver.
"They're different?" I ask, playing along with Jericho.
"This one makes a cross. Those things there also have a cross," he says, pointing to the screws. "They fit together. Watch."
I watch intently as Eli mocks using the right screwdriver with the screws.
"Now, Jericho, you hold it in place, and I'll do this part."
I don't have to look up at the man to know he's affected by his son using his road name and not calling him dad, but I keep my eyes down to give him the privacy of working through that without a witness.
"Ah," I say as a distraction as Eli works. "That makes sense now."
Eli looks like he's won a prize when the screw is fully seated.
"Is that upside down?" Jericho asks. "Damn it."
"Damn it," Eli mimics, and I have to roll my lips between my teeth to keep from cackling .
I look up at my friend and notice he's struggling not to laugh as well, his face growing beet red.
The man glances at Aspen, and I can see the motors running in his eyes as if he's worried Aspen is about to lay into him. Aspen seems to be having the same reaction I am as she tries to hide a smile.
"Hey, bud," Jericho says to get Eli's attention. "I shouldn't have said that. Damn it are grown-up words, okay?"
"Okay," Eli quickly agrees as he begins to back the screw out of the pre-drilled hole.
We move on as if nothing happened, working to complete the easel, allowing Eli to do most of the work and use his words to teach us how to do it.
"That's fantastic," I praise once the thing is complete, and we stand it up.
Eli beams as he takes in his hard work. "Do I have to wait to use it?"
"No. Of course, you can use it now," Jericho says as Aspen hands Eli a box of crayons.
We all stand back as Eli gets to work, the child being very methodical in choosing his colors and positioning the drawing.
I tilt my head to the side, trying to figure out the brown blob of color that's taking up the majority of the paper.
"Did you see that bear outside of your window?" I ask. It's not at all uncommon for bears to come sniffing around looking for unlocked trash cans.
Eli frowns as he looks back at me over his shoulder.
"Do you need glasses?" he asks with his little nose scrunched before turning around and jabbing the brown crayon at the paper. "That's a puppy."
"Do you want a puppy?" I ask to take the sting away from getting his drawing wrong.
"Jersey," Aspen snaps under her breath .
"That's actually not a bad idea," Jericho says, looking at his woman. "Caitlyn mentioned a service animal last week."
Aspen glares at him, but she doesn't argue. I can only imagine the conversations they'll have when they're alone.
"This is like the fifth time one of you has mentioned this woman. Is she like a goddess or something?"
The therapist has been the talk of the house and how great she has been with Eli since I got back last night.
"She's my best friend," Eli says, and I can't help but look at Jericho, who doesn't seem all that happy about him, considering Caitlyn a best friend.
I don't know much about attachment theory, but it sounds like this might be a case of it.
"Do you think she has a dog?" Eli asks his mom.
"I don't know," Aspen answers. "We can't even think about getting a dog until we make sure it's okay with Hemlock."
Eli frowns, and I know that look is going to get the child everything he's ever asked for. It's only a matter of time before there's a puppy in the house.
"Some people have allergies," Aspen explains. "And we don't want to make people sick."
Eli's nose scrunches. "Hemlock is my friend. He'll say yes."
"He says let him check with everyone first," Jericho says, holding up his phone.
Eli's smile spreads across his entire face.
"I think that means you're getting a puppy, bud," I say, ignoring the glares his mother is giving both Jericho and me. I point toward the drawing. "If that's a puppy, what's his name?"