Page 68 of Redeem Me

I frown at how she’s teasing me. “I thought that’s why you came over here.”

“No, I wanted to feel you up, not the other way around,” Natasha says as her fingers comb through my hair. “I’ll be back soon.”

Natasha is only gone for a few minutes before Hector wanders over, looking lost. I sit in my chair and watch him shuffle a little this way before shuffling a little that way. Though Siobhan and Petra clearly consider sweeping in to fix his problem, they decide to let me handle it.

Meanwhile, Hector looks around as if he doesn’t know where the hell he is anymore. Having seen my brothers act that way after a hit to the head, I say the boy’s name and draw him to me.

“Did you fall down?” I ask while Hector stares at me with glassy eyes.

“Where did he go?”

“Who?”

“Dad,” the boy mumbles and flinches like someone’s going to hurt him. “Where he go?”

“He was mean, so he had to go away.”

Hector looks around as tears fill his eyes. I nearly pick him up and run to Natasha before the crying starts. Instead, I lean forward and say his name.

“What’s wrong?” I ask in as quiet of a voice as I can manage.

“Mommy go away?”

“No, she’s in the bathroom.”

“Dad hurt her. She go away?”

“Your dad isn’t coming back, kid. I’m going to take care of you.”

His gaze remains glassy and tear-filled. He seems fucked up. Then, the answer smacks me in the face when he yawns with such ferocity he nearly ends up on his ass.

“You’ve been playing for a long time,” I say, and a sleepy Hector nods. “Do you want to go sleep in your new bed?”

Hector looks like I’ve punched him in the heart. He glances at the house and doesn’t hide his fear. I’d get offended if he weren’t so damn tiny. The more I see the kids, the smaller they seem to get.

I think to pawn him off on Siobhan and Petra or take Hector to the bathroom where Natasha deals with lady issues. That’s exactly what Zoot would do in this situation. Though I’d take a bullet to protect my president, I’m not blind to how he isn’t the type of man a child craves.

It’ll never be enough for Hector and Jacinda to just like me. I need the kids to look at me like the twins look at Sync or Pork Chop’s sons watch him. Neither of my club brothers would ever pawn off their kid to someone else. They’d figure out the answers themselves.

“Do you want to sit on my lap until your mom gets done in the bathroom?”

Hector looks like he can barely stand. He glances around and then back at me. When I see myself through his eyes, I doubt I’d want to get close to the giant, rough man. Hector is braver or more trusting than I was at his age. He shuffles closer and lifts his arms.

I set him on my lap and rub his back. The kid is tiny. I look at the size of my hand next to his little face. Less than a month ago, another man hurt Hector’s fragile body. His father was no good, but the boy loved him. I know I loved my dad who was a piece of shit. I also remember how it felt to walk around in pain because of my father’s angry hands.

Hector rests his body against me before sitting up and looking around. “Where he go?”

“He’s gone, kid,” I say softly. “I know you’re confused. Life is that way. It doesn’t make sense. But your dad hurt you and got in trouble.”

“Mommy go away?”

“She’s just going potty,” I say, and Hector loses his panic.

Eyelids heavy, he studies me, and I wait for his judgment.

“Jacinda get dress. I want dress,” Hector says, shaking his head and making his wavy hair bounce. “I wear vest. I look like you.”

I smile at how Hector’s fingers circle the patch on my vest. Exhaling deeply, he rests his head on my chest and just crashes into a nap.

---