Page 62 of Keepsake

“Remember the kid you fought last year? Little blond kid from Muriel’s gym. You ended him.”

I grunted. That was enough for Paddy. “He has been training like a maniac since. Muriel is up my arse, saying her kid wants a chance.”

“No, thanks.” I went to end the call again.

“Hey, come on. You’re El Toro. Everyone wants a chance to defeat you. The kid wants to prove himself.”

“I’m not in the business of helping anyone’s self-esteem.”

“You’re not in the business at all.”

“Exactly. Don’t call me.”

“Shit, Castillo, it’s like you’re a happy man now, huh? Life is that good you don’t come over to work frustrations out on another man’s face?”

I didn’t want to give in to Paddy, but with one sentence, he messed me up. My hands strangled the wheel, my teeth ground into one another like I needed them pulverized.

No.

I wasn’t a happy man. I couldn’t be ever happy because Sofia was dead. I was a guilty man, a shitty man. I was a shitty brother and a bad influence for her kids.

Slamming the wheel, I cursed under my breath.

There was no happiness for me for as long as I lived. Everything good in me died the same day as Sofia.

“I’ll think about it,” I growled out. “Don’t fucking call me anymore, Paddy.”

I hung up before he could say one more fucking word. The heaviness in my chest staying with me the entire day.

Iwasgoingtokill him.

That was all I could think while I drove through the streets of Chicago, my knuckles white and my heart full of rage.

“I can’t believe he would do that. Two weeks, you get that? Two weeks.”

Lachlan didn’t reply, not even when I made eye contact through the rearview mirror and I knew he could understand me. In the last two weeks, I learned a lot with the littlest Castillo. He was quiet, but the kid was smart.

I got a bunch of memory games for him since our first visit with Dr. Maya, and he was amazing with them. Not just good for his age. I played with him enough times, never letting him win, and still Lachlan was cleaning the floors with me every week.

He also disliked certain foods. He wouldn’t tell me what they were, but by trial and error, I knew if I put a pea on his plate, he would refuse to eat it.

So, I had to accept while he wasn’t talking to me yet, he was listening.

Lachlan was a superb listener. I kept rambling, telling him how many ways I’d kill his brother. Not my best parenting moment, I knew I could do worse.

“A fight. Can you believe that?” I glanced at Lachlan, but he looked so cute dangling his little legs from the seat, my heart melted. “Of course you don’t. You are a sweet boy, aren’t you, Lach? You are never going to fight and get me called to school.”

I parked at Lone Pine, my pits sweating and staining the blouse under my jacket. I hated being in trouble. Even though I wasn’t directly in trouble, I was responsible for the teen in trouble. Which made me in trouble by association.

I opened the door and then got Lachlan, undoing his seat belt and helping him out of my BMW. He left his pacifier behind, but not before sending me a look like he wanted to bring with him.

“You know the rules, buddy.”

He knew them, so he left it in his car seat, giving it a longing stare before grabbing my hand. Poor child endured my sweaty palm and my brusque walk without complaining. I opened the front door, forgetting for a second that school was still in session.

Lone Pine Academy was full. Kids in front of their lockers talking and messing around in the halls. I turned and took Lachlan into my arms, afraid he wouldn’t like cutting through the crowd.

I was steaming. Everything I did was to make life easier for them. Dash tried again and again to antagonize me, and I turned the other cheek. But fighting at school?

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