Page 14 of My Daddy Is An Ex-Con

Mattie crosses his arms over his chest. "Y’all need sensitivity training."

"Y’allneed Jesus," the young daughter hits back, marching away from us.

Mattie’s eyes bulge when he spins back to me. "Unbelievable."

"We should’ve brought the sandwiches onto the helicopter," I admit.

He shakes his head. "You wouldn’t have been able to fly while eating yours."

"Good point," I say.

He looks at his shirt. "Were they mad because of my Little clothes?"

My heart thumps as I look him up and down. No—he must not think that. There’s nothing wrong with wearing those types of garments in public.

"Doyoumind wearing them?" I’d better be blunt. "If so, we can grab you a T-shirt from a 'regular' store."

Mattie blushes. "I’m actually a Little. I like it."

My head spins. "You’re kidding."

He sets his cloud stuffy on his lap. "This is Cloudy. I’ve had him since I was eleven—he wants me to apologize for acting like such a brat. I’m usually not a brat—only when I feel threatened. Most of the time, I’m Little."

"What’s your Little age?" I wonder.

"Four."

I make a mental note that he’s not like his friends who have super specific ages such asthree-and-two-months—i.e. he’s lower maintenance.

A grin forms on my features. "I’m glad to hear that. I promise to make your time in Sicily as Little-friendly as possible."

"Really?"

"Yes. You won’t have to worry about big boy activities. You can wear Little clothes, play with stuffies, and recover from your kidnapping trauma."

Mattie’s eyes well with tears. "That’s wonderful."

"Come on, sweet boy." Standing up, I walk to his side, then slide my arm around his waist. "Let’s head to the chopper."

Mattie rises to his feet. His breath hitches as he locks eyes with me, then bites his lower lip.

I can't help but notice howstunninghis irises are. They’re not mere blue orbs like so many other boys' blue eyes.

They shimmer like liquid sapphires.

Mattie rests his head against my chest. "Thank you."

A few people stare as we leave. "The Lord will send you two straight to hell."

Mattie whips around to glare at them. "Okay, bitch. You wanna fight?"He’s so feisty.

I clear my throat as I push him out the door. "Calm down, Little one. Time to go to Sicily."

Before we start our cross-Atlantic journey, we head to his apartment to grab his passport.

It's one of the new ones with atracking chipin it.

I peek at his picture, then try not to laugh.

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