Page 4 of Straight, No Chaser
I glance at Molly, checking to see if she's getting as much of a kick out of him as I am. But, her entire focus remains on Eli. That weepy, 'oh my sweet baby' expression that women get when their kids impress them with their ingenuity. The look my mother used to give me. The look I haven't earned in a very long time.
"Like this?"
His face pinches in concentration as he presses against her skin with more force than necessary.
"Yeah, it's perfect."
A huge, snaggle tooth grin lights up his face from my approval. So proud to be taking care of the woman who always takes care of him. He pats her again, his little nails curling against the edge of the cotton, peeking to see if the bleeding has stopped. "She needs a Band-Aid."
"Well, go ahead then. Put one on."
I swear to fucking god his narrow shoulders square back, determination filling his tiny fingers as they manhandle a bandage decorated with his favorite cartoon character and clumsily pull off the protective papers before placing it crookedly over her gash. This time his gaze flicks to her, seeking her acceptance of his handiwork.
"Thank you, Eli." She twists her foot side to side, inspecting his efforts with a thoughtful exaggeration that makes him beam with pride. "You did a great job."
His almost iridescent blue eyes glow even brighter and scarlet stains his cheeks. "You're welcome."
"Good job, little man." I toss my head toward the mess in the entryway. "You clean up in here, and I'll take care of the glass."
"Okay!" He fists most of the discarded packaging and grabs the kit before running back down the hallway. Little pieces of white paper swirl in his breeze like confetti.
Once he's out of sight, I turn back to her. "You okay?"
Short white nails pick at the adhesive, quickly straightening the dressing to properly cover her injury before he returns. "Yes, thank you."
She fiddles with the latex more than necessary, unwilling to look at me. Fucking great. Things are more awkward than ever, if that's even fucking possible. Now we need a fucking preschooler to chaperone us. "I'll get the broom."
Yeah, I'm a fucking pussy. Easier to avoid the tension between us than try to resolve it.
Her head finally flies up. Uncertainty lining her stunning face. "Th-that's okay. I can do it."
Even worse. She thinks I'm too fucking spoiled to even sweep my own god damn floor. "I got it."
A hesitant nod to my harsh tone. Taking my anger at myself out on her. Bastard. I shake my head. "I mean, it's no problem. You rest."
Hopefully that didn't sound as lame out loud as it did in my head. This girl fucks with me more than I can stand. I mean I'm the motherfucking king of Chicago, and I'm trying not to upset my fucking baby-sitter. At this rate, I'll be passing out fucking sorry notes instead of bullets to the motherfuckers who try to cross me.
This is why.Sheis why. Easy pussy on a Friday night keeps your dick satisfied and your head in the game. Worrying over some sweet angel's delicate feelings gets you fucking dead. I need to leave her the fuck alone.
It only takes me searching in three cabinets to find some weird mini vacuum that I guess Mrs. Benson uses to clean in here. I plug in the cord and get a sick pleasure from the machine gun sound vibrating through the tubing like shrapnel flying through the plastic. So much more satisfying than the silencers we have to use most of the time. My trigger finger involuntarily curls.
Sometimes I miss the old days when I was the one running and gunning for my father. Now I'm sheltered from most of the real stuff. Haven't broken a jaw or snapped a neck in years. Which means I'm getting soft. Sitting on a throne makes you an easy target. Probably time to be out on the streets again. Put a bit of fear back into the motherfuckers who might think I'm getting complacent.
I turn the sweeper off and Eli's disappointed voice fills the air instead. "He won't go. He has to work. He always has to work."
Fucking motherfucker. He doesn't even want to ask because he already knows the answer. Fucking jaded at four years old.
"Well, we can tell him all about it when we get back. Maybe even bring him some cotton candy. He'll really love that surprise."
That's not the surprise from her that I'd love to receive, but I've got to stop thinking with my dick and take care of my brother. And make her stop having to fucking defend me. I shove the vacuum back into the little cleaning pantry and step into the kitchen. "Let me get in a quick run and then I'll be ready to go with you guys."
Eli's face lights up like fucking Christmas morning, and I fucking love it. "Really? You're going?"
"Of course. But I call dibs on the jaguar on the carousel."
Could I sound any more fucking lame? But the kid loves it.
His competitive streak kicks in, and he thumps his chest with two fingers before head bobbing me. "It's all mine."
