Chapter 23
KILLA
I wait for one of them to stir and discover I’m here, along with all my offerings, hoping playing nice will get me the answers I desire.
A small part of me, the one I keep refusing to listen to, tells me I want this, that I’m just using my hatred as an excuse to act on how I truly feel.
“Who are you?” a little voice whispers, and I glance over my shoulder at the kid. “What’s that?” He points toward the bags. “Are they for Mama?”
Jesus, he doesn’t even give me a chance to answer before he fires question after question at me.
“What’s your name?”
“Killa,” I say, getting to my feet, then I wince when he takes a step back.
I must look damn intimidating to a little kid. So I kneel on the floor, hoping I don’t appear as much of a threat.
“That’s a different name. I’m Noah.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, it’s a road name. Like a nickname.”
“My road name isn’t very nice.”
My blood pumps wildly at his insinuation. “Someone calling you bad names?”
He nods, and his dark hair drops in front of his eyes. Some little fuckers will pay for hurting him, or at least their parents will, given we don’t touch kids.
“That ain’t a road name. That’s little pricks trying to hurt you.”
“I know.” He moves toward the kitchen table and takes a seat.
“You want breakfast?” I motion toward the bags on the table.
His eyes light up, and fuck, that smile hits me square in the chest, making it difficult to breathe for a split moment.
Then I clear my throat, refusing to get drawn in further, and remain on target.
“Your mama, does she have any friends over?” Hunter has been tracking her, and so far, nothing.
She appears to be completely alone. “Friends from where you used to live?”
His eyebrows pinch together, and he taps his finger to his lip.
“Mama doesn’t have any friends.”
“No?”
I take the seat beside him and pull out a box of cereal. He nods enthusiastically, and again, that pang hits me.
“She doesn’t have anyone she speaks to on the phone?”
“She speaks to Reggie.”
I snort. Reggie is in his seventies and definitely not someone who needs to be on my radar.
“He asks her to come into work on weekends, but Mama can’t because of me.”
The sound of the shower running has me pushing out of my chair and springing into action to sort Noah. Little Demon is washing me away, and I can’t have that. She’ll learn soon enough, though.
I’m not going anywhere.