Page 103 of Hot Stuff
“I don’t think we should do that yet.”
My gaze darts to her. “Why?” I flinch at the volume of my voice, my eyes going back to the quiet little boy at the end of the table.
He doesn’t seem as though my near shout even registered. Is he used to people yelling around him?
God. I have so many questions. The first, how the hell does this kid look so much like me!?
Shelby and Gannon took off right after Henry delivered our guest to get supplies for a toddler. I have no idea what those supplies might be but I’m grateful someone is doing something.
“We need to find out his name.” Oakley pushes out of her chair and heads over to him.
Wary eyes watch her, zip to me then back again. His tiny body is braced, for what I don’t know, but if I find out someone has been mistreating this kid…
“Hey.” She crouches beside his chair. “You remember my name is Oakley and that’s Walker, right?”
She gets a nod. Not really progress because we received one of those when the ice cream was offered.
“What should we call you?” she asks softly. “Do you have a nickname? Walker calls me Oak but I used to get OJ when I was little because my full name is Oakley James.”
“Micky.” His voice is so quiet I barely hear him and can’t help moving closer, but I stop the instant he jerks back and fearful eyes meet mine.
Fuck!Some motherfucker has scared this kid!
“Is that a nickname?” I ask softly hoping to ease his worry.
He shakes his head, but his eyes don’t leave me. It takes all my restraint to keep my fingers from curling into fists. The terrified look on the boy’s face makes me want to punch something.
Someone.
“Okay, Micky. Do you know your mom’s name?” Oakley continues the questions.
Another shake of his head with eyes locked on me.
How does he not know his mother’s name? Then again, he’d call her Mom or Mommy, right? He’s still young.
“It’s my birthday next week, I’ll be thirty-three,” Oakley says. “And Walker’s birthday is next month. He’ll be twenty-nine. How old are you, Micky?”
He holds up three tiny fingers.
“Three? You’re so big! I bet you go to school, yeah?”
He shakes his head again and in the last few minutes his little shoulders have relaxed and he’s no longer looking at me as though I’m going to beat him with a stick.
“Do you know where you live?”
Before he can answer, Oakley’s phone rings. Glancing at the screen, I see the name Amos. “It’s the PI.”
“I need to answer my phone. Will you be okay if I go over there and talk to the person calling me?” She doesn’t move until Micky nods.
Then she pushes to her feet and looks at his bowl. The one half filled with melting ice cream.
“Would you like something else to eat?” she asks as her phone goes silent.
Micky shakes his head then pushes the bowl away so he can rest his forearms on the table and lower his chin to them.
He looks so sad it breaks my heart. I don’t know where this kid came from and I don’t know what his circumstances are, but I need him to be okay. And if I have to step in to make that happen, I will.
Oakley moves back to me and scoops up her phone. “I’ll stay in sight,” she whispers.
