CHAPTER TWO #3
I guessed it meant something deep and meaningful to swear on his mother's grave, judging from the sincerity in his gaze. I didn't know that type of love. But that didn't mean I couldn't recognize it.
"Fine," I grunted.
Satisfied, Leonard exhaled and turned his attention to a flabbergasted Shawn and Isaac. "Boys, would you mind excusing us? If you'd like, you can go to the room next door and watch TV."
"Wait, you have a TV?" Ike asked, his brows lifting.
His hopeful expression reminded me of how young he still was. Fuck, we all were. But then why did I feel so old?
"I do," Leonard replied happily. "With all the channels."
He didn't know that we didn't know what that meant, and to Ike, it didn't matter that he didn't know either. He jumped up and dashed from the kitchen in search of the TV while Shawn remained seated, his eyes on me.
"Bram, are you serious?" His bewildered gaze darted toward Leonard before dropping back on me. "What if he wants—"
"I will slit his fucking throat if he tries anything," I ground out from between clenched teeth, pinning Leonard with my glare, just to show him how very serious I was.
Leonard didn't flinch at the threat. He only sighed, his eyes clouding with sadness and a sympathy I didn't want.
"I'm good," I promised Shawn. “Go make sure Ike doesn’t steal anything."
Shawn didn't hesitate, though I know he wanted to. He got up and headed out of the room, leaving me alone with this old man we'd only just met.
"Have you hurt people before, Abraham?" Leonard asked, looking into my eyes.
He was testing me. Seeing if my threats were empty.
Leaning against the table, bringing my gaze closer to his, I said, "The last dude who tried to fuck my mouth needed stitches."
Leonard barely nodded. "What did you do?"
"I bit his nasty old-man dick." I let myself smile as I tapped my temple, though the memory sent the sandwiches in my belly swirling. "Sick motherfucker had to knock me out with a beer bottle to get me to unclench my jaw."
He pressed his mouth shut as his fingers twiddled.
I'd made him uncomfortable with the confession.
Good.
"And, um … your brothers?"
"What about them?"
He swallowed audibly. "They, um … they have experienced … that?"
I barked a laugh. "Oh, Shawn's dealt with way worse than that. It's his girlie little body. They can just close their eyes and—"
"Okay," Leonard interjected, flattening his palms to the table. "Okay. I'm … oh God, I'm so sorry you boys have had to live through that. That any kids have to … God …"
The way he kept talking about God made me laugh.
God didn't care about kids like us. The forgotten, abandoned, and unwanted. God didn't watch over us, and He sure as hell didn't protect us from bad people who liked to do bad things.
"Do you think God liked to watch?" I asked, leering. "Do you think He got off on—"
"Where are your parents?"
He caught me off guard, and I wilted back into my seat.
I blinked a few times at him as I poked the inside of my cheek with my tongue, and then I uttered a single word. "Gone."
"What do you mean, they're gone? Are they dead?"
"Mom, yeah," I replied, my tone clipped.
"How long ago?"
I swallowed and tried to do the math in my head. "Uh … twelve years ago, when I was four. Ike was one.”
"And your father? Is he gone too?"
"Who the fuck knows?" I shrugged nonchalantly. "He's out there somewhere, getting fucked up on something probably. He comes and goes whenever he wants. Sometimes, we see him; sometimes, we don’t."
"Hmm …" Leonard nodded slowly, as if putting together the pieces of the puzzle himself. "So, you boys have been … what, in the system this whole time?"
"Basically," I replied, my tone short. "What the fuck do you care?”
"Is there anyone looking for you?"
Frowning, I asked, "Why the fuck does it matter to—"
"God brought you here, Abraham," he cut me off softly. "God brought you to me."
My face fell as my heart kicked into overdrive. "What are you—"
"What if I asked you to come work for me? All three of you.”
His hands were folded on the table, his lips spreading into a hopeful smile that was maybe even a little conspiratorial. But not in a way that made me feel he was against us. No, he wanted to help us.
He wanted us to help him.
"You mean here?" I asked cautiously, tipping my head back and looking down my nose at this weird old man who lived in a funeral home and made grilled cheese sandwiches that were far, far, far away from being just okay.
"Here," he confirmed, nodding. "I'm all alone in this place.
My business partner died suddenly a few months back.
Heart attack, right in his backyard. Poor guy.
I feel terrible for his wife. Business was already slow, but it's only gotten worse, and I need help if I'm going to keep this ship afloat. "
He had caught me off guard. My vision danced around the little white kitchen as I opened and closed my mouth, searching for the words I intended to say.
"We … I …" I licked my lips and swiped my palm along my mouth and chin. "I-I don't even know how …"
"I will teach you," he interrupted, firm but kind. "And whatever I can't teach you, I will pay to help you learn."
"And you would do that for all of us?"
"All of you,” he confirmed with a curt, businesslike nod.
Questions and equations swam and spun through my head like leaves dancing along the wind.
Slowly, I shook my head. "Ike—Isaac … he needs to go to school. He's only … he's still—"
"I'll enroll him."
"How? You're not … you’re not anything to us.”