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The little boy clung to me when we stepped into one of the treatment rooms. “What’s his name?” he asked.
I glanced at Nevio. This was a mess. The boy needed a name, preferably his real name, if he even had one. The situation was horrible. Maybe his birth mother had never bothered to actually name him. My eyes burned, considering the possibility.
“Battista,” I said the first name that popped up in my head. Nevio raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue.
Of course, the boy didn’t react when the doctor called him by that name. He took his time weighing and measuring the boy, checking his body for injuries and how many teeth he had. Battista was calm throughout it all. Maybe he’d already cried all his tears before. I stayed right beside him, hoping my presence would calm him even though he didn’t know me.
Nevio perched on the edge of the doctor’s desk, watching everything with crossed arms.
My anger for him had taken a back seat, not because I wasn’t still furious, but because my brain was busy trying to figure out how I was going to take care of a child without anyone finding out the truth. I’d have to come up with a good story. My future would be filled with lies, all for Nevio.
I could already imagine what Carlotta would say. We’d fought so hard to move out from our homes and share an apartment, for this slice of freedom. Caring for a baby would definitely take away from the life we’d imagined.
“His weight is on the lower part of the chart but still okay. He’s dehydrated, though. You need to get him formula. He’s around nine months, so that’s still his best form of hydration.”
Nine months. Still a little baby. He probably still woke at night for his bottle. My life would be completely upended in the next few months. I didn’t believe in fate, but it was strange that I had decided to postpone college to have more time to figure out what I wanted in the future, and now I had a little human full-time job.
“The rash on his bum will go away if you change his diapers regularly.”
I nodded.
“Are you done?” Nevio asked.
The doctor nodded, but I could see that he had a myriad of questions he wasn’t asking. Nevio pulled out a wad of cash from his back pocket and handed it to the doctor. He began shaking his head, but Nevio simply shoved it at him.
I put a fresh diaper on Battista. Luckily, they had a stash in the room, but I still didn’t have any clothes. Or anything else to take care of a little child. I could have asked Dinara. She’d probably kept a few things, but that would have raised questions I couldn’t answer. My early leave of the racing circus would already be met with surprise.
Nevio and I left the practice with Battista in my arms. And for the first time, the question “what now?” really hit me. How could we return to race camp? Even if I had my own small mobile home, everything was close together and people might notice if I tried to sneak in a child. Not to mention that baby cries would definitely alert people.
Roman was the only other kid there, and he wasn’t that small anymore.
“This won’t work,” I said. This was too big for me. “We can’t return to the race circus, not even for a night, and I can’t move into the apartment yet. Dad has the codes for everything, and I don’t have any stuff there yet…” I took a deep breath, overwhelmed.
Nevio’s brows pulled together as he stared straight ahead, obviously lost in thought. “We could find a motel for you for the night. And tomorrow, we could make up a lie about why you have to return to Vegas and move into your apartment early.”
“People will ask questions,” I said. Mom and Dad, in particular, though they were probably glad that I’d return to Vegas. Still, another change in plans. Mom would continue her prodding, insisting emotional distress was a catalyst for my sudden behavioral changes. She wasn’t wrong of course. I hated the idea of having to add even more lies to my already long list of recent lies. I loved my parents and didn’t want to deceive them.
“I’m supposed to eat dinner with Adamo, Roman, and Dinara. They’ll wonder where I am.”
“You’re with me. Having dinner with a friend.”
The way he said friend made it clear he didn’t think that was what he thought he was, a friend. And he was right, we hadn’t been friends since that night. At times, it had felt as if we were enemies. “Frenemy, then,” I said with a shrug as if it didn’t matter to me.
Nevio touched the small of my back, surprising me. “We’re not enemies, Rory. Not friends either. Friends don’t want to do what I want to do to you.”
Heat traveled up my neck. “Eat me and make me watch.” I meant it in the Hannibal Lecter kind of way, but Nevio’s answering smirk said he didn’t.
“All night long,” he murmured. Goose bumps rose all over my body, and I took a step away from him so his hand dropped from my back.
“We need to buy stuff for Battista. It’s getting late, and he needs food and sleep.”
He looked at me with an expression that made sweat trickle down the nape of my neck before he gave a nod. “So it’s Battista now?”
“It’s the only name I came up with on short notice. But it’s your choice. He’syour son.”
Something passed his face, but it was gone too quickly for me to grasp. “Then let’s go shopping and find a motel for us.”
“Us?”
