Page 9 of Hiding In the Dark (The Righteous 4)
“Hey,” Kes said as Zumi yawned and stopped a few feet away.
“Hey.”
“Is your mom alright?”
Zumi nodded but didn’t offer any more information, and he was the sort of asshole that didn’t really care if the woman lived or died, so he didn’t bother to push the topic.
“You still want breakfast?”
Those big brown eyes that always reminded him of a deer looked up at him. “You really don’t have to.”
He cocked a brow at the kid. “What did I tell you about being stupid?” He turned and walked away, digging into his pocket for a smoke. “Come. Don’t come. It’s your call.” He knew she would follow and smiled as he heard the soft footfalls of her jogging to catch up.
“What about my mom?”
“What about her?”
“Should I just leave her?”
He took a drag on the smoke and glanced at the kid. “Will she notice you’re gone?”
“Harsh, even for you.” Zumi crossed her arms over her small frame. “You shouldn’t smoke. It’ll kill you.”
Kes laughed hard. He then promptly started choking on the smoke.
“Serves you right. That shit stinks.”
“You’re one to talk. When was the last time you showered?”
“Shut up. That’s rude.”
“And how would you know what is rude, Kid?”
Her lips pursed as her eyes narrowed up at him. If she wasn’t the size of an overgrown six-year-old, she might actually be scary. “I may not go to school on the regular, but I pay attention, and unlike you, I actually have social skills.”
“Ouch, that one stung.” He took another drag from the little cancer stick and then butted it out on the palm of his hand, putting the rest in his pocket for later. “Better?”
“Not really. You’re just putting off what you plan on doing later.”
Kes stared at her as they wandered along the still quiet sidewalk to the diner. “You should really be in school, Kid. You’re smart, smarter than most.”
“Yeah, like that’s ever going to happen. Every time I get caught sneaking into classrooms, there’s another teacher that knows my face to kick me back out. I’m running out of schools to sneak into. Doesn’t that seem stupid? I mean, they want kids to learn, and I want to learn, but I’m not allowed in because my mother’s a bit—.” Zumi crossed her arms over her chest.
She didn’t finish the sentence, but Kes knew what she was going to say.
“Face it. The world has me destined to be a nothing forever, an insignificant bug that no one sees and those that do wish they hadn’t.”
He grabbed her arm and gave it a squeeze as he brought them both to a halt. “Don’t you ever say that—you’re not a nothing. I see you.” He let go of her arm but continued to give her a hard stare. Zumi played with the cuffs on her sweater but kept her eyes on the ground. “I mean it, Kid. Don’t you let your mother or anyone else tell you differently. You hear me?” Kes bent over so that she was forced to look at him.
“Yeah, I hear ya.”
“Good, now come on. I hate crowds and want to get a seat before anyone else.” The rest of the walk was silent aside from the sounds of the city waking up. Metal security shutters rattled as they were lifted up on storefronts while the rumble of cars slowly filled the street. The odd whiff of sewage from the grates reached his nose, but the stench was nothing in comparison to the stink of the Dwellers or the lies that rolled off of his father’s silver devil’s tongue.
The diner was as old as the city and looked it. The sign that once proudly displayed the name, The Piccolo, no longer glowed and hung at an odd angle, but the food was some of the best in town. Every generation had elected to keep the original recipes—they left them the fuck alone, unlike a lot of failed businesses that constantly changed. The Piccolo had stood through war, riots, and one natural disaster after another.
The little bell over the door announced their arrival.
Larry’s voice boomed from the back. “Take a seat, and I’ll be with you in a minute.”
