Page 87 of Redemption (Brazen Bulls Birthright 1)

“He’s ten. He’s not getting a cell phone yet. I’ll text his teacher, and she’ll let him know.”

Right then, it really struck him what was happening. Marcella was letting him have Ajax on his own for the first time. He saw his kid a few times a week, but always with Marcella. Whether it was just watching his soccer practice or a game, and pizza or burgers afterward, or hanging out at their apartment watching movies, Eight was starting to feel like he actually did have a family. But he hadn’t even trustedhimselfenough yet to think of having Ajax on his own, let alone wondered if Marcella trusted him that much.

And here she was, trusting him.

Sure, she was in a jam and wouldn’t have otherwise, but the fact remained that she’d come to trust him enough to be in charge of their son.

It still knocked him over to think things likemy sonorour son.

“I can get him. No sweat.”

“Thank you. I might be a while. He doesn’t have practice or anything tonight, but can you get him dinner and make sure he does his homework?”

“I can do that, yeah.”

She breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Eight. You got no idea how much this helps.”

“Thank you for trusting me with him.”

Her reply was slow enough that if not for the background noise on her end, he’d have checked to see if the call had dropped. But eventually she said, “I do, you know.”

That painful kick in his chest settled. “Okay.”

“I gotta get back to it. You know how to get to his school?”

“Yep.” He doubted there was location in Tulsa he didn’t know how to get to.

“Okay. Thanks again. And Eight—not the bike, okay?”

He chuckled. “I’m already planning to swing by and get the truck.”

“Good. Good. You’re my hero today. I’m gonna give you somethingrealgood next time I get you alone.”

“I’m gonna remind you of that.”

~oOo~

The school covered preschool through high school, and the campus was huge. Each level of school—preschool, elementary, middle, and high—had its own area. The high school—they called it the ‘upper school,’ like they called elementary ‘lower school’—had several buildings. There was a theater and a whole building devoted to ‘fine arts.’ And there was a ‘sports and fitness center’ and several full-on sports fields, for more sports than Eight could name. It was like a college campus.

And nothing at all like the schools he’d gone to.

Lots of signage offered directions for visitors, but here at the end of the school day, the many parking lots and travel lanes were packed with parents picking up their kids, and older kids escaping in their own cars.

The students here obviously came from seriously loaded families. Eight wondered how Marcella was managing the tuition. Probably her family was helping. He thought she’d said something about her father making good bank.

She shouldn’t have needed her family’s help, of course.Heshould have been helping. Long before now.

It took Eight long enough to find the ‘lower school’ and figure out a place to put his truck that he was worried Ajax would be waiting and think he’d been forgotten. God, he hoped he wouldn’t be sitting there on some bench, all alone—or worse, have been pulled inside to sit in the principal’s office.

Eight did not want to meet any teachers or other school officials, that was for damn sure.

He climbed out of the truck and stood there, peering into the side mirror, smoothing his shirt down, tucking the tails in, shifting his shoulders inside his leather jacket. He always felt wrong without his kutte. Too light, as if he’d forgotten his armor.

Okay, well, this was as respectable-looking as he got.

He headed through the parking lot to the lower school.

Ajax was waiting, but he wasn’t alone. He stood in a cluster of kids, near the entrance, off on the grass, under a big maple awash in red leaves. This school clearly didn’t require uniforms, but the kids were all dressed more or less alike, in jeans and sneakers, brightly colored jackets or hoodies. There did seem to be a preponderance of royal blue hoodies and jackets with the school logo on the front or back. Ajax wore one of those.

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