Page 2 of Behemoth

Seeing Damien struggle, I can't hold it back. I lean my head back and let a laugh out. Damien observes me then smiles and lets out a little boy giggle. It feels so good just interacting with someone, even if it is a little kid, who isn’t intimidated by my size or scared shitless from my scarred face. As we get to know each other, I realize I've never been around many kids in my life—except for my brothers from the MC—when we would have family parties and their old ladies or bitches would bring their kids by. And when they got a look of me, they would distance themselves, or worse, ask me if I’m related to the monster, Frankenstein.

This little guy is a first for me. He is so bright and intelligent it shocks the shit out of me, and I am not getting anything from him; thoughts or emotions that indicate he is scared or frightened. We continue to shoot the shit and time flies by, unbeknownst to either of us, until the door flies open and a bunch of kids burst in, followed by a couple of my firefighter brothers.

"Damien, we have been looking all over for you. Are you hiding from us? Didn't you want to go on the tour of the firehouse with these fire dudes?"

"Wow, look at that big dude behind Damien. He has to be like seven feet tall. Look at his arms; his muscles are huge, just like he is. And…Wow, holy crap, dude, what happened to your face?"

Feeling all eyes turn in to look at me, the embarrassment rises immediately, moving up my neck to the apple of my cheeks, burning them a bright red. The absolute quiet in the room is overwhelming. All you can hear is my breath coming out in angry gasps as I fight to control the darker side of myself that wants to immediately hurt the big-mouthed kid badly for bringing all the group’s attention on me—even realizing the kid means no harm—not knowing at their young age the full impact words can have on another.

That is until I feel a change in the air, bringing a different vibe to the room. It’s a dark energy that is radiating from little Damien, aimed toward the kid with the mouth. He totally gets my reactions to the kid’s comments and doesn’t seem to like them at all.

"Tommy, mind your own dang business. That was totally ignorant, you need to apologize to Francis for being a butthead with a big trap."

Looking down, Damien is standing directly in front of me, arms crossed over his chest. His little face is flaming from his anger and he is breathing hard. All around him I see a crimson haze. This little dude is pissed on my behalf. Wow. Another first.

"Don't lose yourself, Damien. Jeez, I was just asking. Sorry, Francis, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I was being nosy, kinda mean, and shouldn't have been."

Looking at all the kids watching me, I struggle on how to reply. Before I can figure it out, my chief cuts in.

"All right, how about we let my guys chill out. I'm gonna show you the mess hall where these guys eat their chow."

Seeing the kids file out of our bunkroom, I look over to my partner, Gage, who is observing me closely. Out of all the guys here, he like Brick, my prez, knows just about everything about me, including my past, along with my abilities to truly read folks through their emotions and thoughts. He’s also met some of my MC brothers, and he gets why I need to be part of both worlds.

"How you holding up, brother? Kids can be so friggin' honest, to a fault at times. I’m sure the mouth didn't mean anything by it. He just didn’t think before he let loose. You probably spooked the shit out of him. The other kid didn't seem afraid of you at all, the one who snuck up here by himself. Did he bother you?"

"Gage, thanks, brother, I'm good. Damien and I were just getting to know each other before the rest of his class stumbled in. Did you notice his fucked-up hand? He is scarred and disfigured, so I don't think I scared him too much. He seemed like a good kid. Actually enjoyed speaking with him."

As we continue to shoot the shit, I feel like my chance meeting with Damien was one of the few good moments recently in my life. Little do I know how much that little boy will alter the course of my life, giving me something I have secretly desired since I became my own man.

A purpose in my life I never thought I’d have a chance at.

CHAPTER TWO

Francis

The remainder of my shift went pretty smooth. Once the kids had some grub, which included hot dogs, chips, and cookies—to their immense pleasure—they said their goodbyes and thanks.

Well, that was after lil’ Damien walked up to me with a piece of paper in his good hand. Extending it to me, with huge eyes watching me, I could sense he was nervous.

"Francis, this is my phone number, in case you ever want to like...I don’t know maybe talk or hang out. I kinda think we have a lot in common.” Then he winks at me. I’m totally at a loss for words. Apparently he isn’t as he continues on.

“And my mom won't mind either, and since I don't have a dad, she is super protective because she loves me because of...well, you know?"

He raises and shakes his burned hand so I can see it. He’s suffered from some severe third-degree burns. I can tell grafts were done but unfortunately didn't cover all the damage. But I get the feeling this is more than our physical scars. Even if he doesn’t get it yet, he is drawn to me because we share something most don’t even have a clue exists.

With that, he turns his little self around and walks out with his classmates. Holding the paper, I stare at it. I believe that little kid just kind of adopted me or some shit like that. The feeling is something new to me, and I kind of like it. A lot.

But I don't have time to overthink it as the siren goes off and we have a call to go on, which turns out to be a Class A fire. All this means to us is this is a fire that involves combustibles such as wood, paper, and other natural materials.

As soon as we arrive, the window in my mind opens as I hear the thoughts and concerns of the victims caught in the burning building. I reach out in my unique way, locating victims so our company is able to save them from burning alive. As always, using these power exhausts me, so by the time we have this bitch under control and get back to the house, it is early the next morning.

Exhausted, mentally and physically, I have a hard time getting off the apparatus. After getting my gear stored away, I start heading toward the bunk area when I hear one of the guys call my name.

"Francis, this came for you while you were out on the call, dude. She was a fucking looker; too, so now we know you are holding out on us. That kid, Damien, was with her."

I gaze down to see a large Tupperware container filled with some type of cookies, and a note card taped to the lid. Wiping my blackened hands down my sides, I reach for it carefully. As I tear it open, I see a cute puppy on the front, and when I flip it up, it is a handwritten note addressed to me.

Francis,

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