Page 15 of Half Blind

“You’re about the same age,” Ayanna said defensively.

“In years, dear Ayanna,” Micah replied, “in life experiences, not so much.”

“I think I’m offended,” Ayanna said.

“Do not be,” he told her. “My way of life is very different. We do not, you know, just on the random chance since it will catch me with my pants down so to speak. My brothers, have stepped outside of the boundaries of this rule, but I am not allowed. The potential to make children out of wedlock is a punishable offense with my father. It is not our way, but please, do not be offended, as if I have a lack of interest. My focus is not on dalliances. Besides, I would rather have your friendship.”

“Fine, if that’s all I can get,” Ayanna said as Jared looked at her with a frown. “What? He is finer than a baby mink, and either the Texas or that South American accent can get him some time.”

Jared pointed a finger at her, and Bria giggled. “He is fine though, Mr. Jared! Those accents just make a girl want to sit and listen to him all night. I might even be willing to fight that guard of his to steal a kiss or two.”

Micah did not respond to their words but put his shirt on and sat happily in new comfort. He waved his hand at Alita, who again went in her pocket to remove large amounts of cash to hand to Lemon, who refused.

“I’ll take it,” Ayanna said, “you know, to soothe my bruised feelings.”

Micah chuckled a bit. “If you truly need this for educational purposes, it shall be yours. However, I will not provide you with hard-earned money to gothe shopping. Is that why you want the funds?”

“Ah...maybe,” she said, smiling at him.

He nodded to Alita who provided both girls a $100 dollar bill. A yawn came from his mouth as thunder cracked overhead, and the heavens opened with a torrential downpour. “Rain, it sounds good. Do you require assistance with the clearing of the table?No? Then, I shall retire for the evening. It has been a long day,” Micah said. “May I be shown to our quarters?”

Lemon said, “I have two rooms upstairs. One with a queen bed, the other with two singles.”

“The two singles,” he said, fighting off the yawn while looking at Jared. “Tomorrow, before I leave, if you require help to patch the roof, I shall lend a hand.”

“Appreciate it,” Jared said, not knowing what to make of it. “Rest well.”

Micah nodded and he and the girl climbed the stairs with a small suitcase he hadn’t noticed before. Jared helped clear the table before heading to the barn. The uneasiness wouldn’t leave him, and he reluctantly made a phone call. It was answered on the fourth ring.

“State your need,” the voice said.

“Clarification is required.”

“What might I clarify for you?” the voice asked.

“Why the son of the Fer de Lance finished dinner in Lemon’s farmhouse and has climbed the stairs for the night with his bodyguard assassin?” Jared said.

“TheBocaracáis there at Lemon’s farm?”

“I don’t know what that is, but this kid has half a tattoo of a Colombian Bushmaster etched in his skin that he calledthe itchyand his little assassin bodyguard lathered him up with a jar of something lemon smelling the Doc gave him to ease the discomfort after dinner while the two teens who live with Lemon sat drooling over the teen South American assassin heartthrob,” Jared said in a whoosh of air. “What in the hell is happening here?”

“The better question is why is he there, Mr. Bane?”

Jared held the device close to his mouth. He wanted to curse the man out, but he had a point. The creepy tat covered teen was here because of him.

“He makes me nervous,” he said. “What if, in coming here, he sees a way to worm their family into Lemon’s life?”

“Perhaps you being there is a deterrent for them not,” the voice said. “Has he presented any mal-intent? Why is he staying the night?”

“Storm coming through, plus he asked Cranberry to make him, I am not joking, neck bones with collard greens andthe corny bread,” Jared said. “He also sat with the girls talking about colleges with a Texas accent. I’ve never seen anyone eat neckbones with the grace of royalty using a knife and fork and not missing any of the meat. He walked in the door slicker than snot, his back rigid, ready to kick ass and kill anyone in his path. When the girls arrived, he mussed his hair, removed the jacket and slumped his body into a teen that didn’t give a shit about anything adults had to say. He did it right before our eyes. He went from this bad ass ruthless South American Czar incarnate to a teen Goth who possibly listens to Billy Eilish on repeat. I’m confused. What is happening here?”

The voice on the line was quiet. He waited a beat, thinking very hard about the next response. The words came out softly. “We all get tired of being who we are sometimes, Mr. Bane. If, for one night, he could simply be a teenager and hang out with other teens that didn’t know who he was or his destiny, he took the opportunity. At times, isn’t that what we all desire, a day off from being what others expect of us, and being who we’ve grown into?”

“I don’t think I like you,” Jared said.

“Stay in touch,” the voice said and ended the call.

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