Page 20 of Falcon

“One was my cousin Jed; the others are his friends. They’re meant to be watching me, but they don’t like me. Jed said I smell funny,” Jayes admitted.

“You don’t stink, kid,” I blurted, and he didn’t. Jayes’ clothes were clean but clearly hand-me-downs and too big for his slight frame. “How old are you?”

“Five.”

Fuck, my protective instincts were in overdrive. “And Jed?”

“Nine.”

“And he’s beating on you. You’ve gotta tell your dad.”

“Dad won’t care; he says I need to toughen up and be more like Jed,” Jayes said without thinking and then covered his mouth. It was as if he tried to snatch the words back out of the air.

“Yeah, Jed’s an asshole,” I replied, and Jayes’s eyes widened. “Okay, I’m going to take you home. What’s your parent’s names?”

“Dawson and Myka, and you can’t carry me back. If Dad sees you, I’ll be in trouble. Dad’ll say I’m weak like Mommy.”

Whoever this asshole was, I was disliking him more and more as Jayes kept speaking. Jayes shoved up, surprising me, and began limping away before he could react. I stood and hurried after him. No way was I the prick who’d let a small kid walk home alone.

“Hey, I’ll give you a piggyback and then when we get near your home, I’ll put you down, and you can go from there. Your dad won’t even know I’ve helped,” I said.

Jayes stared as if he was weighing that up. He nodded slowly, and I crouched down and let him climb up. Jayes’ sigh of relief hit my ear, and I knew I was doing the right thing. Poor fuckin’ kid. I hated shit like this.

Jayes was able to tell me how to get there, and I was surprised at his intelligence. Kai and Aponi couldn’t find their way out of a paper bag. The street he lived on wasn’t the best, but certainly wasn’t the worst. The houses were run-down, but one stood out, simply because of its neatness. Something told me that was Jayes’s home. I was right when Jayes pointed and moaned.

“Daddy’s waiting!” he sounded terrified, and I studied the man—Dawson—sitting on a chair in the neat garden. Dawson appeared a typical, nasty, bullying asshole. He wore jeans and a tee, which were clean and pressed, but held a beer bottle in one hand and a smoke in the other. This was a manual worker at home in his kingdom. A tired, run-down woman would support him in the shadows.

“Jayes, what the fuck!” Dawson exclaimed as he spotted us. There was a hint of anger in his voice as he checked me over. The fucker didn’t know whether to holler or hold back because I was an unknown.

“Jayes was injured,” I replied, approaching. Jayes held me in a stranglehold. Fear rolled off him in waves.

“Where have you been?” Dawson demanded.

“I found him at the river where your nephew was kicking the shit out of him with six other kids. Some fuckin’ babysitter he is,” I snarled.

“That’s a damn lie. Jed was playing with him. Anyway, if they were fighting, why didn’t Jayes fight them off? Kid needs to tough up.”

“Maybe because it was seven on one!” I snapped. “Shall I phone six of my brothers down here and we’ll see how you cope?”

“Jed came past, said some guy attacked them, and they ran off. That you? Attacking innocent kids?”

“Then we’d better call the cops,” I stated, folding my arms. “Because that had to have been half an hour ago. So, what the fuck are you doing sitting here drinking and smoking after you’ve been told someone assaulted your kid? Let’s get that little prick out here right now, and he can say it to my face.”

Dawson shook his head. “Nope, I sent Jed home where he’d be safe.”

“Oh, so you protected your bullying asshole of a nephew but didn’t come looking for your son?” I snarled as my temper began riling.

A soft voice spoke his name, “Dawson,” and I looked toward the door. A woman emerged, her eyes fixed on us. “I’ll take my boy, thank you. Where was he injured?”

“Jayes hurt his ankle when your nephew pushed him into the river and kicked the hell out of him,” I retorted. She stiffened and glanced at Dawson. Dawson held her gaze, and she dropped it.

“Jed plays too roughly,” she whispered, and Dawson’s fists clenched.

I was trying to gauge the situation because it was seriously off.

“Jed’s a real boy, not like the mama’s boy you’re raising. He’ll never toughen up clinging to your apron strings, Myka. Get me another beer,” Dawson demanded.

“I’ll take Jayes and go clean him up,” Myka said, stepping into the sunlight. Taking a deep breath, I held my temper back. There was a fading bruise covering her jaw and cheekbone, and her hand covered it as she caught me staring.