“We can’t.”
“But he’s a kind man.”
“That’s why I don’t want anything to happen to him. It’s just us now. We can’t involve Clayton anymore.”
“Will Uncle Don hurt Matty?”
Bless the two boys. It was cruel of me to separate them, but I hope someday they can see each other again. “No, baby, he won’t. Uncle Don wants me.”
“So… this is why you’ve been practicing shooting?”
When it’s only the two of us, I can’t hide what I do from him. Raffi has seen me handling a gun, and that’s just the way it is. I have to be able to defend myself—and him.
“Yes, baby.”
“I want to learn too!”
I’ve seen that determined face before. It was when we decided to give it a go registering him with the Junior Clippers. He doesn’t know what danger really is, despite having been in the thick of it when he was really young. But I admire his determination to protect me.
“No, Raffi. You’re not old enough. And I won’t let you anyway. A gun is not a toy, understand?”
“But I want to protect you.”
“You can protect me another way.”
“How?”
“By standing by me and listening to what I say.”
“Okay.” He stares at his own lap, thinking.
“I love you. You know that, right?”
He’s the only one I’ve got, and I will protect him with everything of me. I tidy his hair, smelling it. “Go and take a shower. You smell like seaweed.”
Raffi rubs his head, laughing.
“Mom, can I call Dime? Just five minutes.”
Dime, his good friend, who I still like to call Eric.
“Not yet. I’ll tell you when you can start calling your friends, okay?”
“Just him.”
“Not yet.”
He sighs out his disappointment and goes into the bathroom in silence.
As I hear the water running, I see a shadow move outside on the west side of the house.
“Bree?”
It’s not my housemate.
I take my gun, rounding the house. If someone is looking for me, there are only two possibilities: the Reaper who won’t hesitate to swing his scythe, or the stranger in the dark who’s still insisting on me. Whatever his reason.
Either way, I’m going to confront him.