Father

by Clarissa Wild

  “Pfft … that’s easy,” Carl huffs, showing me his scar again. “See this? This is a battle scar.”

  I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah, we get it. You fought off the baddies at church.”

  “Hey, at least I kept Margaret safe. Can’t say the same for you.” That smug bastard actually raises a brow at me.

  “How many people have you actually killed?” I ask, but when he doesn’t respond and just opens his mouth without a sound coming out, I say, “Exactly.”

  “Hey, that’s not fair. I’m not a criminal.”

  “Yet.”

  “I don’t plan to become one.”

  “Oh, really?” I narrow my eyes. “Last time I checked, you asked me for my contacts.”

  He sighs, looking away. “That was before … you know.”

  I nod. I understand. He’s changed his mind, and that’s nothing to make fun of. It’s a decision he should be proud of, and I am.

  “I’m proud of you,” I say.

  His face lights up. “You mean that?”

  “Of course. As long as you keep taking the good jobs. Not the bad ones.” I eye him down. “Got it?”

  “Got it.” He smiles.

  Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door, and we both look up to see who it is.

  My face lights up when I realize it’s Laura, Diego, and Bruno. “Hi!” She waves while walking in with the boys.

  “Oh, you’ve got visitors … lucky you,” Carl muses, winking at me. “And a beautiful lady too, might I add.”

  “Thanks.” Laura shakes her head as she turns a bit red.

  “He’s right, though. You do look beautiful.” I smirk like a motherfucker when her face turns even more red.

  “Stop,” she murmurs, grinning.

  “Never.”

  “Oh, please,” Diego grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Not this again.”

  “Great to see you too, Diego,” I say. “Been taking good care of your brother and sister?”

  “Of course.” He folds his arms.

  Laura pokes him with her elbow. “Didn’t you have something you wanted to say?” she whispers in his ear, but I can hear loud and clear.

  He looks a bit uncomfortable as he rubs his lips together and stumbles through his sentences. “I wanted to … say thank you. For you know … rescuing us and shit.”

  “And shit,” I repeat, chuckling a bit.

  “Yeah, you know.”

  “Well, it was my pleasure.” I grab his hand and give it a good shake. “You’re a good guy, Diego.”

  “Thanks. And … I’m sorry for being shitty to you.”

  “It’s okay. Comes with the territory of being your sister’s boyfriend.” I wink, which makes Laura’s eyes almost bulge out of her face.

  Bruno giggles. “Boyfriend?”

  “We’ll explain it all later,” Laura quickly says, clearing her throat.

  “Okay … I’ll give you four some space.” Carl grabs his crutches to get off the bed. “Don’t break down the whole place while I’m gone.”

  “I promise I won’t touch your stack of magazines, I mean porn,” I yell as he goes through the door, and he sticks up his middle finger at me, making me laugh.

  Laura sits down on my bed and grabs my hand. “It’s so good to see you well.”

  “Yeah, I just have a couple of bruises and tiny slash in my lip. No big deal.”

  “You could’ve died, Frank. It was a big deal.”

  “So? I’m alive, and you are too. That’s all that matters,” I say with a smile, and I let my hand roam free across her face, caressing her cheeks and lips. I don’t know why. I just have this tendency whenever I’m close to her … I wanna touch her … memorize every inch of her skin.

  “So … what about me?” Bruno suddenly says with a high-pitched voice.

  We all look at him, and Laura says, “Oh, right … I promised you something, didn’t I?”

  She lifts him up from the ground and sets him on the bed beside me. “Frank … I think you want to tell him something, don’t you?”

  “Right …” I nod, licking my lip. I grab his arms and rub his back. “Bruno … I just wanted to say—”

  “You’re my dad,” he interrupts.

  Confused, I frown and smile at the same time. “Did you …?”

  “I heard it with my own ears,” he states. “Is it true?”

  I nod.

  And then the most unexpected thing happens.

  He just falls into my arms and hugs me.

  Like a real, genuine, soul-crushing hug.

  I wrap my arm around him and hold him tight, finally feeling his heartbeat against mine.

  “My son,” I mutter, tears welling up in my eyes.

  Bruno looks up and asks, “But if you’re my daddy … does that mean I have two daddies?”

  “No.” I chuckle. “Julio is Laura and Diego’s daddy. But I’m the only daddy you’ve got.”

  “Oh.” He shrugs. “Well, I like you a lot, so this is better.” He returns to hugging me, making me wanna cry and laugh at the same time.

  “Aww … I like you a lot too, Bruno,” I say.

  Laura also seems to be unable to hold back the tears as she puts her hand in front of her mouth and struts around uneasily. Meanwhile, Diego’s looking out the window, clearing his throat and pretending he doesn’t care, but I still notice the glistening in his eyes.

  Bruno pushes himself up from me and looks me dead in the eyes. “If you’re my daddy … then who’s my mommy?” he asks with furrowed brows.

  “Well, it’s not Laura and Diego’s mom,” I answer, brushing his tiny cheeks. “Your mommy … isn’t here anymore. But she loved you so very much.”

  “Why did she go? And where?”

  “To heaven, Bruno,” Laura answers. “We already talked about that, remember?”

  “Oh … so she died?”

  I nod, feeling bittersweet.

  “But it’s okay … Mommy is where she’s supposed to be, looking down on us and watching over you.” I poke his chest with my index finger. “And she knows you’re finally where you’re supposed to be.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “With me.” I grin, grabbing him to tickle him hard.

  His giggles fill the room with laughter and smiles, and I can’t stop … I don’t wanna stop feeling this way.

  Happy.

  For the first time in years, I feel happy.

  “Stop, stop!” Bruno says, giggling like crazy.

  “All right … but only if you promise to always listen to Laura, understand?”

  “But if you’re my daddy and her mommy isn’t my mommy … then she’s not my sister either, right?”

  “She is …” I raise a brow at his smart comment. God, how do I explain this? “Your sister… is still your sister in here.” I point at his heart. “You don’t have to be related to be family.”

  “Oh …” he hums and then smiles. Guess it’s that easy with kids.

  “So you’re part of my family too now,” he says.

  “Yup,” I reply.

  “Does that mean you’re staying with us now?”

  “Oh, well … we’ll have to see about that. Have to ask your sister what she thinks.” I look at Laura, whose jaw is wide open, and her cheeks have the same color as a strawberry.

  “Well …” She folds her arms. “Your dad and I will have to discuss that. In private.”

  “Aw …” Bruno scrunches up his face, so I kiss him on the forehead.

  “It’s okay, kid; it’ll only take a while. Besides … you’ll see me again in no time.”

  His face brightens up. “Really? When?”

  “When I get outta here … First thing.” I wink.

  Diego approaches us and helps Bruno off the bed. “C’mon. Let’s find a vending machine. Maybe we can get you some Skittles.”

  “Skittles? Yes!” Suddenly, he’s happy again. God, it’s so easy with kids. They change moods in less than a second. I wish I could do that.

  When
the two are gone, Laura sits down on my bed again and puts her hand on my arm. “How are you really feeling?”

  “Better, now that I’m alone with you.”

  Oh … so smooth.

  I can’t help but grin from my own comment, but she rolls her eyes.

  “I’m glad you’re feeling like your old self again.”

  “Oh, no, I’m not going back to being a drunk-ass bitch again. No way.”

  She hides a laugh behind her hand. “Good. Your talents are wasted with all that alcohol.”

  “What talents? Or do you mean my tongue?” I dip it out and roll it around my lips, making her groan and smack my arm.

  “Frank!”

  “Sorry, sorry,” I joke.

  “So … are you okay with the fact that my dad’s not dead? Despite everything he did to you?”

  “To us, you mean,” I say. “He hurt you too.”

  She nods, looking down at the sheets.

  Maybe that was a bit insensitive of me. “I’m sorry about your dad,” I say.

  “Oh, no, you don’t have to be sorry. He deserves to go to jail for the rest of his life. I mean I’m glad he’s there. At least he won’t be able to cause any more pain.” She smiles softly. “I just wanted to say thank you for saving us.”

  “Like I had any other choice. I’d much rather die than see you, Bruno, or even Diego hurt by his hands.”

  She smiles again and bites her lip, looking at me with those dreamy eyes. Gosh, I wanna kiss her so badly. And then I figure … why not?

  So I grab her face and pull her close until our lips touch and our mouths lock. I can’t help but smile as I kiss her because every second I taste her on my lips is another win.

  She’s everything I ever wanted, and I think I’m only just beginning to understand what this means for me. For us. For the future.

  When our lips unlatch, her face still hovers so close to mine. I can feel her hot breath on my skin, and it makes me wanna do all the dirty stuff I promised the nurses I wouldn’t. The question is: Would anyone notice if we did?

  “I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is no,” she quips, putting up a finger.

  “Aw … c’mon.” I sigh.

  “No! This is a hospital, for crying out loud.” She snorts. “But I’m glad your dick still works perfectly fine.”

  “You can break my bones and shoot me down, but nothing will ever stop this monster dick from getting stiff as a rod, trust me.”

  She snorts, and I kiss her again for good measure, tasting the sweetness that is her mouth so I can remember it while I’m stuck in this stupid hospital bed and she’s gone home.

  “Ugh … I wish I could stay,” she murmurs against my lips.

  “Can’t you?”

  “I’m not a patient, remember?”

  “You could be. There’s an empty bed. I’ll kick Carl out.”

  She sniggers from my comment. “You’ll be out in no time.”

  “And what then?” I ask. “Are you coming to live with me in the church or …?”

  “No, thanks. I don’t wanna get killed by Margaret. Or worse … give her a heart attack.”

  “Heart attack?” I frown.

  “She’d die of one if she caught us having sex one more time.”

  I laugh. “Well, she’ll just have to deal with that then. I mean, c’mon, a man’s got his needs, right? She knows that.”

  “Does she even like me?” she asks, toying with my hair.

  “Of course, she does.” I grab her hand and kiss the back. “You like me … so she likes you too. The two go hand in hand.”

  “Really?” She raises a brow. “Because I know what we did last time we were there, and it wasn’t pretty.”

  “We’ll be more … secretive from now on,” I muse, biting my lip. “And I can’t wait to defile the church all over again.” I grunt and pull her onto the bed with me, smashing my lips to hers, fiercely taking her.

  I can’t help myself. It’s just the way I am. A needy asshole who can’t get enough of her.

  “Stop,” she murmurs, grinning. “We have to behave.”

  “For now. But wait until I’m outta here. Then we’ll see how bad I can get.”

  “Who says I wanna?”

  “Don’t lie to yourself,” I tease, poking her in the belly. “You and I both know you want me.”

  “Fine.” She rolls her eyes. “I’ll take you back, but …” She pushes me back with a flat hand. “You still have some making up and groveling to do, Mister.”

  With a lopsided smile, I say, “Call me Father Frank … and I’ll make you confess all your sins.”

  She giggles and grins as I grab her and force my mouth on hers again, finally claiming what’s always belonged to me.

  She even kisses me back with the same amount of greediness, never taking her lips off mine. I literally have to grab her arms and push her away so I can ask the question that’s been on my tongue since forever.

  “So … we good then?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I guess,” she says with furrowed brows. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, Bruno asked if I was part of the family now, so I guess I had to ask.” I shrug.

  She playfully slaps me. “Of course, you are, silly.”

  “So does that mean I get to move in with you guys then?”

  She rolls her eyes, and her jaw drops. “You did not just ask that.”

  “Oh, yes, I did. I’m tired of living with old Granny Margaret. Got a spare room? No, no, wait. I can sleep in your bed …” I wiggle my eyebrows, and she makes a funny face.

  “You … I’ll make you regret the day you begged me to come stay at our house.”

  I smile and so does she, and I reply, “Oh, I’ll definitely take you up on that challenge. Starting tomorrow.”

  32

  We’re finally going back home today, and as Ricardo had something to make up for, he came to pick us all up. His face immediately turns sour the moment we step out of the door and into the parking lot.

  “Hey, Ricardo,” I say, and both Carl and Margaret greet him too.

  “Hey, guys … look, I’m sorry,” he immediately begins.

  “Too late, bro,” I muse, laughing. “It’s already done and over.”

  He rubs the back of his head. “I hope it wasn’t too painful. Fuck. This is all my fault.”

  “Why? Laura and the boys didn’t do this to me,” I say. “It was Julio.”

  “No, but if they’d stayed at the house, maybe they wouldn’t have distracted you. I mean you could’ve died,” he says.

  “I’m alive,” I reply. “That’s all that matters.”

  I try to act cool because that’s just how we roll. I’m done feeling guilty, and he should be too.

  “How do you feel?” he asks.

  I shrug. “As good as I look.”

  He rubs his lips together. “I’m really, really sorry. I really am. I just couldn’t stop them from coming to the church.”

  “Dude, it’s not your fault,” I say. “She was determined to come rescue me or something. I dunno.”

  “She even stole my damn car,” he growls, pushing Carl’s wheelchair.

  “She did?” I raise a brow, impressed with her skills. Ricardo isn’t easy to bypass. He’s a big guy.

  “Yeah, well, after she locked me in the house, they all jumped into my car and raced off. Even left skid marks on the street. So damn lucky my car wasn’t damaged. I would’ve been pissed.”

  Guess I was wrong about the fool part.

  I look at him. “Fish, huh?”

  He raises his brows. “What? She was very … convincing.”

  I narrow my eyes as I help Carl into the back of the car. “Just admit that you’re thick.”

  With a straight face, he says, “Fuck you, Frank. You’re just as thick. Who the fuck goes into a shootout without a gun? Like, who does that?”

  I laugh. He’s right; it was stupid, but he didn’t know I had one hidden in my room. “I did get a gun, though.�
�

  “Where?”

  “In my room.” I shrug.

  “You keep a gun in your room?” Margaret suddenly asks as she sits down in the passenger’s seat.

  “Well, I did. Not anymore, of course.” I smile. “It was only to protect us.”

  “I guess it served its purpose well then,” she answers, taking a deep breath.

  “Exactly. I saved our asses. That’s all that matters.” I sit down beside Carl and close the door.

  Meanwhile, Ricardo gets behind the wheel and glances at me over his shoulder. “You’re one lucky son of a bitch; you know that, right?”

  I grin, feeling even more lucky as we drive away from this damned hospital. “You betcha.”

  When we get to the church, I hop out of the car and help Mother out too. We dropped Carl off at his home where he’ll be taken good care of by his family. Ricardo helps Mother back inside the church while I grab the bags from the trunk.

  “Thanks, dude,” I say as I walk in after him and drop them on the floor.

  “Don’t mention it.” We give each other a bro-hug. “But … I consider the debt fully paid now,” he adds with a wink. “More like overpaid.”

  I nod. “Got it.”

  He turns around, but before he leaves, he asks, “We still on for that cookout next week?”

  I grin. “Oh, yeah … it’s on.”

  He smiles and waves as he leaves.

  I bring my bag to my room. Meanwhile, Mother’s already waddled back to her room in the back. I bring her bag to her. “Here you go, Margaret.”

  “Margaret?” She looks up at me with big eyes. “You never call me that.”

  I frown as she approaches me and puts her hands on my shoulder. “You don’t like it?” I ask.

  She straightens my jacket for me like she always does when she’s worried. “I like it when you call me Mother. It makes me feel useful.”

  The warm smile on her face makes me happy, and I place my hand on top of hers and squeeze. “You’ll always be my mother.”

  “Are you sure? Because it looks like you gained another one on the way.” She chuckles, and then eyes the door like I’m supposed to look. When I do, I notice Laura’s peeking through it all the way from the hallway.

  “She’s quite the girl,” Mother whispers. “Feisty to the bone and sassy as can be.” She gently pats my cheeks. “Exactly my boy’s type.”