Page 14 of Holding His Hostage
“I got it first.”
“That’s not fair.”
“First come, first serve. It’s perfectly fair.”
Sloan’s eyes popped open, confusion permeating the thick haze of sleep. He stared at his living room ceiling. He was on the couch, and there were children in his kitchen.
Joanne’s children.
He sat up slowly, looking around. A pair of sneakers sat in the middle of the floor, one upside down. He scratched the back of his head and sighed, reaching for his prosthetic arm and securing it in place. His head ached a little from the scotch, and he longed for a cup of coffee to take the edge off the pain.
More screaming from the kitchen. “Give that back!”
“You finished the Cap’n Crunch, so I’m taking the Lucky Charms.” That was the girl… April. He got up and stretched.
“Mom!” yelled the boy.
“Just shut up and eat the Cheerios.”
“I hate Cheerios! And don’t tell me to shut up!”
Sloan had slept in his jeans, but he pulled on his T-shirt in an attempt to appear presentable as he dove into the fray in the kitchen. “Everyone hates Cheerios. I’d go for the Cap’n Crunch.”
The boy didn’t miss a beat.Lucas. “She touched it. I don’t want it after she touched it.”
April gestured dramatically. “I poured it from the box into the bowl.”
Lucas straightened his arms by his sides, fingers balled into fists. “I’m not eating that crap!”
Sloan held up a hand. “Watch your mouth.” He reached into the top of the pantry and dug behind boxes of macaroni and cheese, withdrawing a second box of Lucky Charms. “Here. I’m always prepared.”
A single clap behind Sloan made him turn around. Little Fiona stood in the doorway, beaming. “Marshmallows!” God, she was cute. “I don’t want milk.” She wagged a finger at Sloan and settled at the table.
“If you don’t give her milk, she’ll only eat the marshmallows,” said April.
Sloan nodded. “C’mon, we’ll all have them with milk. You want some, right, Lucas?”
“Yeah.” The kid pulled out a chair, the sound of chewing soon replacing the chaos.
Sloan poured his own bowl of cereal, momentarily torn. Usually, he just ate the marshmallows. He frowned. “Will you pass the milk, please?” He’d planned on doing some laundry and watching the football game at the bar this afternoon, but that plan was obviously thrown out the window. He picked the marshmallows out of their milky bath, careful to avoid the twiggy parts. “Where’s your mom?”
“She’s still sleeping,” said Lucas, his mouth full of cereal. “What happened to your arm?”
“Lucas!” snapped April.
Sloan held up a hand. “It’s okay. I lost it in an accident when I was in the Navy.”
The boy grinned. “Did it get sawed off?”
April smacked his arm. “Lucas!”
“No, it—”
Lucas’s eyes lit. “Was there an explosion?”
“No—”
“Did you get shot?”
