me a bargaining chip.
“How about this? Let’s have breakfast first. I need to make sure you understand the rules and are willing to follow them. If I think you can, then I’ll let you call Donna later.”
“Really?” she says in a high-pitched voice as if she can’t believe I just made that offer.
“Really.” I watch as hope blossoms in her eyes.
Together, we walk back to the kitchen, where she takes a seat at the table, and I start to prepare breakfast.
“What was your dream about?” I ask, after a moment of silence.
“I don’t remember…” She must be desperate to change the subject because immediately after, she says, “You know I can cook too.”
“I know, but I like taking care of you.” I glance over my shoulder at her just in time to catch the tiniest smile tugging at her lips.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-three.”
“I’m guessing you know how old I am?”
“Twenty-one,” I say, matter of fact. Of course, I know that and much more.
“Is there anything you don’t know about me?”
“I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure I know more about you than you know about yourself.”
“How is that even possible?” she asks, squirming in her seat.
“I’ve watched you. I see things that you don’t. For example, you feel weak, and you think that you’re scared of everything. In reality, you are brave and downright fearless.”
She makes an adorable snorting sound and shakes her head. “If you think so. What about you. I know nothing about you. Is there anything you can tell me?”
“I grew up in foster care, like you,” I say, just as the eggs and bacon get done cooking. I place everything on two plates and take a seat next to her.
She doesn’t say anything to my foster care remark and just nods her head. She probably enjoys reminiscing about it just as much as I do.
“What else? Like what do you do for work… or did? I mean other than being a criminal? You must’ve had a job at one point, like a real job, right?”
“I’ve only had two jobs my entire life. One is killing people for the local mob—”
Her fork slips out of her hand, making a loud clanking noise as it hits the table. She jumps in her seat, scared by the sound, or maybe by what I just said.
“A-and the o-other?”
“Protecting you,” I say softly. She lowers her head and sighs deeply. I can see the conflict in her eyes, even though they are downcast.
She stays quiet for the rest of the meal. Must be out of questions for the day. When we’ve both cleared our plates of food, I take them and deposit them in the sink.
“You know if I let you call Donna, you have to lie to her. You can’t tell her where you are… not like you know where you are anyway.”
She frowns. “I’m not stupid, I won’t say anything. I just want to hear her voice and make sure she isn’t worried about me.”
“Okay, let’s call her then.” At my words, she perks up, shock takes over her face. She still doesn’t believe me, probably thinks it’s a trap, but it’s not. “Well, come on.”
Dove eagerly follows me into the library, where I reopen the safe and get everything out again. I set up a secure line and call the nursing home’s number. When I hear it ringing, I hand her the phone.
I watch and listen closely as she talks to the nurse, then to Donna. As soon as she hears her adoptive mother’s voice, a genuine smile spreads across her face. Dove is beautiful on any given day, but when she smiles, she literally takes my breath away.
Enjoying the view of Dove being happy and content, I let them talk for as long as she wants. After about twenty minutes, we hear the nurse in the background telling Donna it’s time for her morning exercise. The two women say their goodbyes, and Dove hangs up the phone before handing it to me.
“Thank you.”
“Anything for you.” And I mean, anything.
I let the hot water beat down on my tired skin after my afternoon workout. Steam has filled the entire bathroom by the time I wash my hair. Watching the water drain, my mind wanders to Dove. She was different today, more open to the idea of me not being the enemy. She is still guarded, but there seems to be less resentment coming from her now.
The image of her smiling, so happy when I let her call Donna,