Page 57 of London Inked Boys: The Complete Trilogy
“Yeah, and it’s not far from here.”
Not waiting any longer—we’ve already done enough arguing between us—I turn and run for the front door. I remember how Dylan told me he’d live in the park if he could, and the park is only a couple of streets from here, easy enough for a boy to walk to.
I set off at a run, feet pounding the pavement. I’m physically fit, more so than any of the people chasing after me, and I reach the park well ahead of anyone else. The place is dark now, but security lights illuminate the children’s play area which contains a couple of swings, a roundabout, and a slide. I don’t think Dylanwould be sitting in the dark somewhere, so it’s to this area I head.
The slide is positioned on an A-shaped frame. My ears strain, and I pick up on the quiet sound of muffled crying. Approaching the slide slowly, not wanting to spook the boy, I duck down so I can peer under the slide.
Dylan sits with his arms wrapped around his knees, a small backpack at his feet. His eyes are red from crying, and he glances up at me. Something in my chest tightens at the sight.
“Hey, mate,” I say softly. “Whatcha doing under there?”
“Getting away from Mum and Dad fighting.”
“They’re both really worried about you. The police are at your house and everything.” I’m aware of running footsteps approaching as the others catch up.
Dylan’s lower lip trembles. “Am I in trouble?”
“No, not trouble. You just gave everyone a fright, that’s all. They’ll all be really pleased to see you.”
“Dylan?” Holly cries out from somewhere near the start of the park.
I call back over my shoulder. “It’s okay, Holly. I’ve got him.”
“Oh, thank God.”
I put out my hand to Dylan, and the boy takes it, his small fingers gripping mine tightly.
I pull him to his feet. “Let’s go home now, yeah, mate?”
Dylan nods. “I was getting kind of cold anyway.”
“You didn’t fancy sleeping on the bench, then?”
Dylan gives a small laugh. “No, I think I like my bed better.”
Holly collides with us, pulling Dylan into her arms, crying with relief.
“Oh, God. Thank God you’re okay.” She kisses her son’s head, then smooths her hands all over him, checking for injuries. “You’re okay, aren’t you? No injuries? No one tried to hurt you?”
“I’m fine, Mummy,” he says, glancing away, embarrassed.
Mike arrives and repeats the process. The man might be a total dick, but he obviously does love his son.
“Let’s get you back home,” Holly says.
This strange little group, accompanied by the police officers, who also followed, makes our way back home.
“I should probably go,” I tell Holly when we reach the house. I feel like a spare wheel in all of this and don’t want to make things any more difficult than they already are. “I’m glad everything turned out okay.”
But she catches my hand, tugging me in towards her. “No, don’t go. I want you here. I need you here. Thank you for finding Dylan.”
Beside us, Mike clears his throat. “Yeah, thank you for finding him. I should have thought of the park.”
I shrug. “No problem. I’m just glad he’s turned up safe and sound.”
The police officers stand by, waiting for the right moment to announce they’re leaving.
“Right, we’ll be off then,” says the female officer. She looks between us all. “Might be a good idea if you all sit down and have a good chat, try to figure out a way to communicate without all the shouting.”
