Page 57 of Shield and Savior

My gut screams that’s not true.

But my brain yells, it might be.

“Well, if we were only a job for him, at least he said we were his favorite.” I wrap my arm around my son’s shoulder. He’s getting too big to comfortably fit into the spot he used to nuzzle in. But he doesn’t pull away.

His little cartoon man on the screen tends to his sheep. I like sheep. I can tell what they are. “Why didn’t he want me? Am I not enough?”

His words hit like bullets.

“Oh god, Drew, this had nothing to do with you.” I was the one who fucked up because, well, I fucked. “Lance got moved to a different assignment. He’s not gone because he doesn’t want to be here.” My voice breaks as I fail to hold in my tears.

I feel Drew shaking his head against my ribs. “I know that. Lance texts me everyday.” Drew adds under his breath, “Specs gave me a burner phone, in case I needed to reach anyone.”

Oh, that makes sense. “How long have you had it?”

“A while.” Like any true Mafia family member, incriminating answers are always vague. He’s quiet for a moment, and I rub his shoulder. He pulls his knees to his chest and drops his head onto my lap, but turns away so I can’t see his face. “My father. Why didn’t he want me?”

The question guts me, feeling even worse the second time. I was never enough for my son. He needs a family. “It’s not you. It was never ever about you. He’s the one who missed out. You were a fucking adorable baby.”

He huffs, “Oh I know. I’ve seen the pictures.” His cheek tightens against my thigh. He’s smiling, laughing at his own joke. But the tightness fades, and he continues, “He’s the reason we left Alabama and came here.” Drew whispers, “I like it here more than I liked it back home.”

“Me too.” The truth catches me off guard.

“And he’s why we’re here.” He motions around the room. “Did he come to the apartment? He must’ve done something bad because Lance was scared.” There’s a damp spot on my thigh under his eyes. “I don’t understand how someone can be out of our lives and still hurt us so much.”

Fuck, kid! My eyes and throat burn. “You were always wanted. And there will never be a time when you aren’t loved and surrounded by family.”

He wipes his face with his shirt. And we sit here in our silence for a little while, watching his sheep walk around the screen.

Eventually, his stomach growls. “I am kinda hungry.” He lifts himself off my lap and reaches for the pizza. It hangs from his mouth as he takes the controller back in his hand.

“Love you, kiddo.”

“Ove ou boo,” he says with a mouth full of cheese and bread.

I walk back to the kitchen. Bracing myself against the counter top, the silent tears pool and overflow. I try not to squeak or make any sounds. Drew would hear and come running in to check on me. I allow myself cry for a few more minutes before sniffling and picking myself back up.

The phone rings, and I jump. It’s the emergency phone that’s plugged into the kitchen wall, always charged, always ready to go.

I rub my eyes with the heel of my hands and straighten my shirt. I don’t know why. Whoever is calling can’t see me, it’s a phone call.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” I don’t recognize the voice. It’s female, soft, with a heavy dose of concern. “It’s Alana. You okay?”

How did she know something was wrong? I scan the room and see the lens above the fridge. Cameras. She’s watching me.

Of course she is. She’s a professional. But I didn’t think emotional check-ins were a part of her job description. “I’m fine.”

“Liar.” Her voice doesn’t hold any malice, or judgment. She’s stating a fact. She knows I’m lying. “Two things. One, I’m bringing your family to the safe house. You shouldn’t be in the dark, but it’s not my place to tell you. I’ll be over in two hours.”

“Okay. What’s the second thing?”

She lets out a long sigh. “Um, Ian left something on the Minecraft server for Champ, er Drew.” She rushes the words together. “I don’t know, a chest or something. Entire backstory ofTheKnights of the Nightgoing back six generations, no problem, but whenever someone talks about Minecraft to me, ugh.”

I laugh, “Same.”

There’s a pregnant pause before Alana says, “We have more in common than I thought.”

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