Page 93 of Knock Knock

At the farm.

“Icannotevenbelieveyou get to work here!” she shouted, her fingers getting sucked into a calf’s mouth and her other hand petting two dogs, a donkey, and a kid. Of the goat variety. “This is epic! I sort of wanted to be a veterinarian!”

“You can play fake doctor here all you want,” I told her. “Until you become a real one.”

Shehaha’d, but didn’t confirm or deny if that was a real dream or not. “I’m gonna miss you at the shop, but you better invite me here all the time.”

“Obvi,” I scoffed. “You know we’re gonna be besties even after you’re done your co-op thing at the shop, right?”

“Obvi,” she mocked me, but it came out a bit lispy between her gap teeth. “Thanks for just being awesome, Xav. And for helping with my Karen Movement.”

“You did that all on your own.” I wrapped my arm around her shoulder. “Always be on board with your Karen movement.”

She hooked her arm around my lower back, laughed, and said, “Show me the dead oak!”

So, I did. I walked her down Maddox and Devon’s memory lane, and by the time I took her home that night, she was full of gummy worms, smiles, and promises that I’d go with her to see her dad. Was a great day. Pete even let her name a goat. She named itRammstein, like the band, and I learned a whole new level of respect for her.

CHAPTER31

NATE

“It’s not poison,”I told Evan, who stared at the container of treats like they were going to kill him. “She does this for everyone.”

“Why me?” he asked.

Gina had dropped off a batch of pastries with strict instructions that they were for Evan. I’d had to physically restrain Xavi from eating them until I could find the kid.

“Because. She does nice shit like that. Not everyone here is an asshole.” I squinted at him. “Except you. You’re an asshole.”

“My dad is an asshole,” he corrected.

So proud of him for being brave enough to say it.

“And you’re an asshole,” he added. “But in a different kind of way. I just don’t… Why are people helping me? I don’t need help.”

What a stubborn little prick. “Look around, kid.”

“Don’t call me kid.”

“This place is poor, but guess what? Poor people are the most selfless. You can knock on any one of these doors and get help. Except Old Man Hank. Don’t go there unless you want a shotgun fired at you. But anyone else? We take care of our own. You’re park family now. It’s a thing. Get used to it.”

“It makes me weak. I should be able to take care of myself.”

“You’re eight.”

“I’m ten.”

I thought he was a liar, but what did I know? “You aren’t supposed to know everything at your age. You need help. We all need help. If it weren’t for these people, I’d have probably died when I was eight.”

“I’m ten.”

“So you’re already older than I would have been!” I stole a tart from his box and chomped into it. It hurt like a bitch because my teeth were sensitive, but I ate it to make a point. I needed a dentist so bad. And an eye doctor for my night vision. “You know you can come to us anytime, right?”

He picked up a flaky pastry and nibbled. “Maybe.”

It’d take some time for him to trust everyone in the park, but I wasn’t deterred. I was a stubborn old mule, and as long as he knew he had options for protection and help, that was good enough for me.

Harris had done more than rough up his dad. He’d threatened him. Apparently, Evan’s dad went to Harris for loans every now and then, and Harris had said he’d be completely cut off if he ever so much as heard a whisper that he was abusing the kid again. It gave me a whole new respect for Harris, who had lost his own son, and I never knew about it. That shady, yellow-aviator-wearing gangster was a good man under all his tracksuits.

---