Page 72 of Dock

“Lĕk n̂xy.” He holds his fingers up to show the amount. “Very little.”

Bewilderment bursts throughout my expression. “You came from fucking Montana.”

“And living next to a city that’s Christmas year fucking ‘round gets tourists from all the fuck over.”

Huh.

Makes sense.

“I speak a little of a a lottle,” he mirthfully shrugs.

In spite of him shitting on his abilities, they’re good enough to grab the girl’s attention.

Perk her head up.

“What’s she saying?” immediately leaves me.

“Home,” Flames translates with a sympathetic grin. “She wants to go home.”

“I’ll do my best to get her there,” Tags promises. “You know that.” He adjusts his hold on the boy. “Tell her that. Tell her I’m a cop, and I’m gonna try to get her home.”

“Tảrwc,” Flames says with a terrible accent. “Phā khuṇ klạb b̂ān.”

Her snickers shift a bit of the pressure from my chest. “Yæ̀.”

“She’s agreeing with you?” I ask, hope apparent in my tone.

“Nope.” His own grin grows wide. “She’s telling me my accent is bad.”

Laughter leaves him sparking it to leave her and me to breathe a sigh of relief.

“You should hear my French one. It’s wayyyyy worse,” he playfully pokes. “And I’m like part French.”

Additional giggles hit our ears indicating two things.

One?

She’s feeling safer.

Two?

She speaks or understands some amount of English.

Flames cranes his face a little closer to the situation. “English?”

“Little,” she whispers in return.

“We,” he motions his finger in a circle, “save you.” Afterward, he points to Tags. “He protect,” a karate hand motion is made, “you.”

“That was some racist ass shit,” Kegger amusedly murmurs.

“Yeah, not all Asians do karate,” I join in the playful poking.

“Fuck you both,” he laughs again, getting the little one in my arms to do it too. “I’m tryin’ here!”

“And now a bad Brooklyn accent?” my best friend sneers. “Get out of here with that shit.”

“Are they the children or you?” Tags humorously complains and stretches out his arm for the child. “Come on, little lady.” The warm hand motion precedes his insistence. “Let’s try to get you…” An unfortunate wince is wedged between attempts. “B̂ān.”