Chapter Five

Kitt

I woke up when a sliver of sunlight came in the closed curtains, slanting right across my face. I was lying up under Rio, somehow, and it felt so good I never wanted to move. I lay there just remembering how he made love to me and basking in that memory. I hoped he wouldn’t wake up and push me away. I dreaded the idea that he might say it had all been a mistake—it would kill me if he did.

I lay still for a while, seeing if I could go back to sleep, but I had no luck at all. My mind was racing, and I finally got up to go to the bathroom and splash water on my face. I brushed my teeth while I was in there, just in case there might be more kissing later, and then I went back out to the bedroom.

He was still deeply asleep, so I pulled on some sweatpants and a t-shirt and decided to go in search of food. This was one of those hotels that served complimentary breakfast, and they usually had waffles and some of those sounded pretty good about now. I took the key to the room from the pocket of Rio’s sweatpants and decided to go downstairs before it got too crowded. I picked up his phone, while I was at it and downloaded another ringtone for him, just to mess with him later. This one was O Holy Night as sung by Conway Twitty. I tried to give him a variety.

I meandered downstairs, taking my time and found the little side room where they were serving breakfast. I loaded up on pastries and butter and made some waffles and got lots of syrup packets. Oh, and bacon, because I loved that stuff. I even got a milk, because Rio said it went well with sweet syrupy stuff, and then I took my haul back to a table and dug in.

I was about halfway through when Rio came rushing in, still unshaven, his hair all crazy and his eyes looking a little frantic. When he spotted me, his face got even redder, and I could tell he was mad. He came charging over to my table.

I noticed several people looking at us, so I grabbed his hand and pulled him down next to me before he yelled or something.

“Why did you leave without telling me?” he asked right away, obviously making an effort to keep his voice down, though he was still a little loud.

“I don’t know. You were sleeping and I was just going to let you rest. I didn’t think.”

“No, that’s obvious,” he said, his words clipped and sharp.

“I’m not a criminal, you know. And I was hungry.”

Rio blew out a breath and lifted his eyes to the ceiling. “You should have tried to wake me. Did it not even occur to you that I’d think you’d run away again?”

I could feel my face getting warm. “No,” I said. “I’m sorry. I should have thought, huh?”

“Kitt, it’s dangerous for you to be here alone. You have people looking for you. Dangerous people who don’t have your best interests at heart.”

“Oh.”

He took my hand in his. “I don’t mean to scare you—or maybe I do. You might need to be a little scared. Until you testify and put those guys in prison where they belong, it’s just not safe for you. I need to get you back home, so we can put all this behind us.”

“Us? I thought you’d be sorry this morning and in a hurry to get rid of me.”

“No. We’re in this together now. I told you. But you have to do as I say and start being good. You have to mind me, and you need to let me look after you.”

I grabbed for his hand and held on tightly to it. “I’m sorry…Daddy.”

He looked at me a long time and then finally sighed. And he didn’t correct me. “Don’t be sorry—just start thinking a little more and not taking off without letting me know.”

“I won’t do it anymore. I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Are you finished eating?”

Yes, but you need something too. Can I make you some waffles?”

He actually shuddered. “No, I’ll get some oatmeal and fruit. I don’t know how you eat like that and stay so slim. It must be your metabolism.”

“I guess,” I said, smiling at him. “Whatever it is, I’m glad for it.”

“I don’t like you eating all that junk. From now on, you eat healthier.”

I laughed and he looked at me oddly, probably thinking I was crazy. But I wasn’t used to anyone caring about what I ate, and it made me feel warm inside and started up those crazy butterflies again in my stomach when he said things like that.

After he finished his breakfast, we went upstairs so he could shower and get dressed. I got in the shower with him again, so it took us a little longer to actually get ready to go. He pretended to be mad, but I don’t think he really was. We went outside around ten o’clock to leave, with Rio bitching all the way downstairs about how we got off to such a late start. In the car parked beside us was a woman with a cute white poodle. The little dog was friendly and happy looking and came up to the window to dance around and give excited little yips to get out. I waggled my fingers at it but got in the car so we could leave.

“You like poodles?” he asked me.

“I just like any kind of dog. I love them. They’re all so sweet and so much nicer than people. Dogs really are too good for people.”

He made a little scoffing sound, and I turned to scowl at him. “Well, they are! Dogs are loyal and good. They never say mean things to you or make you feel bad about yourself.”

He glanced over at me and his eyes went dark. “Who made you feel bad about yourself, Kitten? Was it your father?”

“Why do you think I was talking about myself?”

“Just a hunch.”

“Oh. Well, sometimes he did. And my brother sometimes. When my dad spoke to me at all, that is. I don’t think I was the kind of boy he wanted for a son when I was younger. Well, ever. I think he wanted the kind of boy you probably were—the kind who likes sports and playing outside and going fishing and hunting and all of that. I bet you did that kind of thing, huh?”

He shrugged. “I guess so. But that doesn’t make me any better than you or anybody else. There are all kinds of people in the world, honey, who like all kinds of things. I’m sorry no one told you how special you are just by being yourself.”

“I’m not, though. I’m weak and I like girly things, like jewelry. That’s what I heard him say one time, right after my mom died and I went to live with him and my brother. He had found my friendship bracelets in my room, and he looked disgusted and threw them in the trash. That was just after I went to live with him. When my parents divorced, my mom took me, and we went to live with my Pop. My father took Jazz and kept him. Even then, he liked Jazz the best.”

“You were the youngest, though, right? Quite a bit younger than your brother. I’m sure Jazz was easier for your father. That’s all.”

I lifted my head and glanced over at him. “I think you might be prejudiced because you like me a little.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I guess maybe I am.” He winked at me. “You’re know, you’re wrong about dogs though. I mean, they’re cute and all, but they can also be a giant pain in the ass.”

“Why would you say a thing like that?” I said, feeling outraged, though I’d never even had a dog of my own. I knew he was just trying to distract me, so I was playing along. “Did you ever have a dog?”

“I did. Once. As a kid, I got a little mixed puppy—I was like ten or maybe eleven years old—she was just a little mutt my mom found somewhere, with long, reddish hair. She named her Pippi.”

“That’s cute.”

“I thought it was dumb as hell. It was after some fictional character in a book my mother read once. The character had red hair.”

“It’s original, anyway.”

“Is it, though? I’d hated the name—thought it sounded lame and refused to use it, and I just called her ‘Red’ in front of my friends. She didn’t mind though. She really wasn’t all that smart.”

“Oh, don’t say that. I bet she was really smart.”

He laughed again. “Not really. But she was a good girl. My mom picked her out of a box of free puppies from the back of a pickup truck in the Walmart parking lot, and she brought her home for my birthday that year. Pippi was a giant pain in the ass right from the start, following me around everywhere and sleeping at the foot of my bed at night, biting my foot if I moved it under the covers, like she thought there was a cover monster under there. She peed everywhere, except, of course, on the newspapers I put out for her. She’d was damn near impossible to housetrain, and sat beside me at the supper table, begging for food by putting her paw on my knee every few minutes, just waiting for me to do the right thing and slip her a bite.”

“I hope you did.”

“What do you think? And she got fat, too, because she loved to eat so much. My mom gave her cookies, no matter how much I complained about it. I saved up some of my allowance money to buy her a black leather collar to make her look a little tougher, but she had this unfortunate tendency of crawling up in my lap and licking my face every chance she got, and that didn’t look so tough. It was something I was never able to break her of. That and peeing on my bedroom rug and tearing the hair out of my little sister’s dolls. She ruined a bunch of them, not to mention that damn rug, so I had to eventually throw it out.”

“Did you keep her until you went into the Army at least?”

“No. Pippi died right in front of me when I was fifteen.”

“Oh no, what happened?”

“She got excited and ran out in front of a car when she came to meet me at the bus. I held her in my arms as she bled out on the pavement. I buried her in the backyard. I wrapped her up in the blanket from my bed, and I put in all her favorite little dolls and toys. And she was wearing her black, leather collar.”

“Did you cry?”

He glanced over at me and shrugged. “Yes. I wasn’t sorry about it either—she was a good girl, and she deserved to have someone cry over her. After that, I said I’d never have another dog. It hurt too much to get close to an animal that wouldn’t live all that long anyway. It was better to just avoid the pain altogether than to go through that again. My mom said I was wrong, and that I had to take chances on love. Because love didn’t come with guarantees.”

He glanced over at me when I didn’t say anything and widened his eyes when he saw my face, because I was sitting there with tears streaming down my face for poor little Pippi and that boy who lost his little red puppy and was afraid to love again. I knew it was a long time ago, but damn, it was a sad story.

“Kitt, don’t cry. What’s the matter, baby?” he asked me, his voice full of concern, and it only made me cry harder.

I waved my hand and wiped my eyes, embarrassed and hoping he wouldn’t think I was a “wuss” like my father used to call me. “Nothing. It’s just sad. But don’t say Pippi was a pain in the ass. Please. I know you don’t mean that. You loved her.”

“I know. Of course I loved her. I shouldn’t have said that. Stop crying. You’re right. I didn’t really mean it, and it was a long time ago.”

“But you really never got another dog? That’s so sad. I wish I could get you one someday.”

“I don’t need a dog, but once you get all this mess straightened out with the cops, maybe we can get you one.”

“Jazz won’t let me have it.”

“It won’t be up to Jazz. It’ll be up to you by then and no one else if you want a dog.”

I looked over at him so fast I almost got whiplash. “But he’s in charge of me and what if he says no? He’s my guardian and he won’t let me stay by myself.”

“I’d like to help you with that. You’ll be over legal age soon, and as soon as I can, I intend to help you fix this fucked-up guardian situation. It’s not right.”

“But why?”

“Because I care about you. I thought I made that pretty clear last night. We’ll get you a good lawyer. You can get out of Georgia if you have to. Out of the country, if it’s necessary. Now blow your nose and don’t wipe it on your sleeve—there are tissues in the glove compartment.”

“Okay.”

“Does…does this mean you’ll be taking care of me?”

“I…let’s wait and see about that, Kitt. We’ve just met, and so far things have been rocky between us. But I’d like to get to know you better. Much better. Now be a good boy and get some rest. We have a long way to go today, and I’d like to get as far as we can. Maybe Arkansas, if we make good time.”

“It’s getting pretty close to Christmas. There might be a lot of traffic.” I stared out the window and then sneaked a glance over at him. I was trembling a little. He hadn’t said no when I asked him if he’d take care of me. Not exactly, anyway. That must be a good sign.

“I guess you have big plans for Christmas.”

“Not really. I don’t have any close family left. My boss’s family has invited me over for dinner Christmas day, if I decide I want to go. You’d like them, I think.”

“I-I would? Me? Am I going?”

“If you can go, I’d like to take you. They won’t mind if I bring you. They have a huge place, and they always cook way too much food.”

I sat back in my seat and didn’t think about what he just said. It was too much to hold in my head.

Still, I wanted to clarify what I thought I’d heard.

“So, are you saying that you would take me…because …why exactly?”

He glanced over at me. “I don’t like the idea of you spending Christmas alone or with people who aren’t nice to you.”

I smiled to myself and thought about a real Christmas dinner at a house decorated especially for Christmas—I hadn’t had that since my granddad passed away. I started to tear up again but stifled it because I knew he’d fuss and tell me to stop it. He might even tell me to “man up” like my brother did sometimes. I didn’t think he would, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to take words like that coming from Rio. And I’d been disappointed by people before. I just didn’t think I could stand it coming from him.