Page 15 of Risky Fight

“We’ll be fine,” I say, to a frowning Roark.

“No bullshit, Lou,” he says seriously, “we can discuss how your brothers’ debt can be cleared later on when I get home.” It’s then I catch sight of the armed guards hovering around the periphery. This is a pretty, comfortable, lush as fuck prison. The food is good and I bet we have Netflix too, but it’s still a prison. He kidnapped me, even if the sex was earth shattering, this isn’t a love story. I am here because my brothers fucked up, and if they keep fucking up, I might end up somewhere worse.

I should be grateful it’s Roark, but a part of me can’t forgive him — he should have talked to me then. Instead, he just ran away and left me wondering what I had done wrong.

“Have a good day, honey,” I say with all the sarcasm I can muster up, “can I please go home and fetch some clothes?” I try my luck, but Roark steps into my personal bubble, and my heart skips as I look into his angry eyes.

“No,” he says, “honey,you’re not going anywhere, at all. I will arrange for you to order some things for you and Nolan.” His stern tone is enough that even the little boy looks afraid. “This is where you stay until your shit-for-brains brothers pay up. They’ll be notified of your current situation later today,” he pauses and frowns, “and the accountant, but I don’t want his money. He’s in my way. I might have to remove him if there are any problems.” I swallow. ‘Remove’ — that word is a death threat. It’s a subtle warning that Will best get out of his path or there will be consequences.

Roark leaves without elaborating any further. I’m standing in the dining room with a little boy looking at me and the awkward silence is uncomfortable.

“He is grumpy,” Nolan remarks innocently, “that’s why he is a fighter, I think.” His childish logic is cute. I help myself to breakfast from the server next to the long table, then sit down opposite him.

“He is a grumpy sod,” I say, forgetting my language and that he is a kid.

“You will have to pay the swear jar now.” He folds his arms and looks at me with a serious little frown.

“I’m broke buddy, I couldn’t pay anyone anything, even if I wanted to. Besides, I am a grown up, I can cuss. You’ll get your cussing license when you turn eighteen too. Then it’s legal, like driving and drinking.”

“You can’t drink and drive!” He sounds horrified.

“Not together at the same time, no. But you can do both if you’re old enough.” He looks at me and I can almost see his mind working.

“I don’t want to get old, I can just never cuss,” he says getting up from the table, “do you want to play with me?” he asks. “Roark bought me some toys and things here, but it’s not so much fun on my own.”

“Let me eat this, then I’ll come and play with you for a while.” What else am I going to do here all day? Might as well play cars and color in.

***

We’re surrounded by matchbox cars and coloring pages all over the small pajama lounge where the TV is tuned to play Disney shows all day long. The songs are that catchy I am singing along with him. Nolan chats nonstop, most of it is incoherent babble about his cars, and which is the fastest. His vocabulary blows me away — he is damn smart for a four-year-old.

“Why don’t you want to get older?” I ask him, remembering how all I wanted was to grow up, stay up late and do what I wanted, not what I was told.

“Because birthdays are not fun now,” he says, “and you have to have a birthday to get old. I don’t really want more birthdays.”

I’m confused. Most kids live for their birthdays, parties and cake — it’s their day.

“You don’t want a birthday?” I ask him, “how come?”

“I can’t have a party,” he murmurs, his little voice tinged with sadness. “My mom died, and we moved away, so I don’t have any friends to come to my party.” My heart aches as I hear Nolan talk about his birthday, his words carrying the weight of loss and loneliness. I know the first birthday after my mam died was fucking horrible. “It’s not a party if no one comes, and I don’t think grumpy pants even knows when my birthday is.” He might be right there.

“When is your birthday?” I ask him, eager to see how long Roark was gone before he just forgot me and moved on with another woman. Did he wait? Or was it out of sight, out of mind.

“I will be four in twenty-seven days,” he says confidently. “Four is big, you know. I was going to be in the Lion class after the summer because I am big then.” He has been ripped away from everything familiar to him, and I can only imagine how he feels.

“Four is big,” I smile, “I am sure Roark will get you signed up to start school in September. There may not be a Lion class, but you will still be with the big boys.” The school here will be another culture shock for him, uniforms and mass instead of recess and lunchrooms.

“I guess so, I still won’t have any friends for my birthday.” I’m sure if Roark allowed me to leave the house I could rustle up some nieces, nephews, and cousins to come to a party. I will have a word with him.

I can’t help but feel a pang of sorrow, reminded of my own childhood when I lost my mother. Wanting to offer some solace, I lean in closer and say, “You know, Nolan, I lost my mam too when I was little. It was tough, but you’re not alone. We can help each other.” I truly do know how he feels, nothing can explain the pain of that loss.

Nolan gazes at me with wide eyes, searching for understanding. “How can we help each other?”

He is a smart tike, I love the way he has more questions than answers and wants to know everything.

“We can make your birthday super special,” I suggest, trying to infuse enthusiasm into my voice. “We’ll plan an awesome day, just you and me. Maybe we can do something special, maybe we can convince grumpy pants to let us do something where you can meet some new friends. How does that sound?”

His eyes light up with a glimmer of hope, and a faint smile graces his face. “New friends? Have you met Roark? He doesn’t like people, and he really doesn’t want them to know about me. He called it a ‘media scandal’, that the press would eat me alive if ‘we were out in the open’. I don’t want to be eaten, Lou.” There is a sweet innocence about him, and I know what Roark is trying to protect him from. They have been viscous about him in the media before, and this will be a juicy story they’d spin to get the biggest reactions.

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