Clashing Hearts - Nicky James Page 0,25

my brother, but what I wanted was to flush out my trespasser.

“Don’t shoot, East. It’s just me,” came a small, child-like voice from the dark.

The tension left my shoulders, and I let out a relieved breath. “Christ,” I muttered.

I peered back at my brother whose brow was cocked. “Tell Elaina I had somethin’ to take care of. I’ll be back, and I’ll dance with her in a little while.”

“All righty. You got this?”

“Yeah.”

JR wandered back to the party, and I faced my not-so-daunting talking bush. “C’mon, Percy. It’s just me now. Outta there. I ain’t gonna shoot you. It was a joke.”

The leaves on the bush rustled, and a small body crawled out from underneath. His jeans were worn through in the knees, his T-shirt was stained, his toes poked through his runners, and he had mud on his face. But what bothered me the most was his lack of a jacket. It was ten degrees Celsius outside and dropping fast as the night deepened.

Little Percy Gilbert might have been eight years old but was the size of most five-year-olds. He was rail-thin with shaggy hair a few shades lighter than mine and big front teeth he hadn’t grown into yet. He blinked wide eyes up at me. Eyes that would have been blue if the sun was up.

“Where’s your coat?”

He shrugged.

“What’re you doing ’ere?”

Another shrug.

I pressed my molars together and asked the question that mattered most. “Where’s your daddy?”

The final shrug boiled my blood. His father was a piece of work. “What about Eric? Is he supposed to be takin’ care of you tonight?”

“No. Eric went to his mom’s on Friday.”

I glanced at the reception then back at the kid. “You hungry?”

His eyes widened, and he couldn’t nod fast enough. With a sigh, I held out my arms and gave him a smile. “C’mon, kiddo. We’ll get you somethin’ to eat and find you somethin’ clean and warm to put on.”

Percy ran toward me and hopped up into my arms with the biggest smile on his face. He weighed nothing and sat on my hip, hands linked around my neck like he belonged there. “Is that a wedding?” He stared at the gazebo in the distance, playing with the curls at my nape.

“Yup. My sister’s. You know Austin? They got married.”

“Looks like a fun time.”

“It’s all right if you like lots of people and dancin’. You ain’t goin’ over there though. Not like this. Gotta be fancied up for weddings.”

“Is that why you’re wearing them clothes?”

“Yep,” I mumbled, heading toward the house.

Inside, I sat Percy on the kitchen counter while I made two big peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. He took one in each hand while I rifled through the hall closet in search of a fleece blanket. The kid’s skin was like ice.

Once I found something suitable, I wrapped it around his shoulders while he filled his face, eating like a starved man.

“I’ll be back, okay? Gonna go get the little room set up for you. Wanna sleep over?”

He nodded, his hair flopping in his eyes. He pushed it back with a hand, smearing peanut butter onto his forehead.

The kid needed a wash.

I disappeared into another section of the house and tugged my cell phone from my pocket. The little room didn’t need preparation. Lately, it was always set up and ready for spontaneous company.

I had the chief’s number on speed dial, thanks to this family. I tapped it and waited while it rang, listening with half an ear for Percy. He didn’t need to hear me chatting with the chief.

“Don’t tell me you’ve got wedding brawls I’ve got to come and break up,” Windsor said in lieu of hello. There was humor in his tone.

I chuckled. “Nope. But I’ve got an eight-year-old runaway again.”

“Shit. Are you serious?”

“Says he don’t know where his daddy is. I suspect I know, but I thought it best I didn’t go haulin’ his ass outta that bar or I may not be able to control myself.”

Chief Elkhart sighed. “You’re probably right. Lemme handle it.”

“If that man is gone with drink, I ain’t sendin’ Percy home.”

“I’d rather you didn’t anyhow. His old man’s got a bad temper when he’s lost in his cups. You don’t mind keeping him for the night?”

“I called so you knew where he was. Let that old ass know his kid’s not missin’, and I’ll bring him home in the mornin’.”

“You bring him to me in the morning. I’ll take him home, all right? I’ll bet your temper is

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