Page 3 of Brutal Savage

I peek over at his pretzels as though I don’t know, and he tilts up the bag so I can see the front.

“Ah, pretzels. I love pretzels.”

He throws one into his mouth, not looking at me. Then, slowly, he moves the bag in my direction and jerks his hand like he wants me to take one.

My mouth presses tightly, and I fight not to cry because it’s the most he’s done since I joined the class.

“I can have one? Thank you! That’s so nice of you.” Reaching in, I catch one and toss it into my mouth. “How about we share? Maybe you want some of this popcorn?”

I know popcorn is one of his favorites. It’s why I brought it today.

The bag crinkles as I pull it open and move it toward him.

At first, it doesn’t appear as though he’ll actually accept my offer. Then his hand moves just a little until he’s reaching inside.

Silently, I do a happy dance. This is progress. This is something to be excited about.

Glancing at him, I wonder what he’s thinking right now. Does he wish he could talk? Is he afraid to? I can’t imagine that kind of trauma on any person, let alone a child.

I should call and make an appointment with his father’s cousin, the man who adopted him. It’d be good to discuss what steps he’s taking to help Brody.

I don’t know much about him. Never even met the man.

But maybe it’s time that I did.

TYNAN

I make it a point to pick him up every day after school. His mother or father would be there every single day, and I want him to know that’ll never change with me.

The therapist said Brody needs consistency and trust, and I’m doing everything in my damn power to give him that. I have to.

His father, Aiden, and I were close. Hell, he was more like a brother than a cousin. We grew up together, along with his brother, Ryan.

Brody was supposed to go to Ryan, except Aiden left a will, and he wanted me to have him.

Fuck if I know why. Maybe because Ryan has been to prison more times than I can count. Maybe it’s because he’s not really into kids.

Then again, what the hell do I know about them? Never had any.

I think Ryan was relieved when he found out Brody wouldn’t go to him. Not because he doesn’t love his nephew. He does. Though he’d rather do work for my father than do things like this: pick up Brody, do homework with him, or cook him a meal.

I could let Ruby take care of all that—she already does a lot—but I want to show Brody I’m in it. That I’m here. That I’m not going anywhere.

Ruby has been invaluable, though. She cooks for us when I can’t. She does everything around here. A live-in housekeeper. Sitter too. I wouldn’t be able to work and raise Brody if it wasn’t for her.

Standing outside on the grass, right across from the school building, I wait for Brody to get out.

When I see him, he’s the first in line, walking out with her.

Long black hair is coiled up in a classy bun, a few strands falling across her right cheek, those crystalline blue eyes twinkling like damn stars when she whispers to Brody.

And I hate that I notice.

That I see how beautiful she is.

Yet I’ve started to notice other things too. Little things when Brody’s around her. Like the way he doesn’t recoil when she puts her arm around him. Or the way he stands just a little closer every time he’s beside her, waiting for her to let him cross over to me.

He never does that with me. He pushes me away like he despises me.

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