Page 67 of Keeping Penny

“Goody! I like hanging out with you.”

This girl. She could make any rotten day better with only a few words. She wiggled in his embrace, and he leaned down to put her on her feet. She immediately took his hand in hers and began to babble about what a great day she’d had at school.

Pyro nodded his thanks to the aide, eased the backpack from Bowie’s back, and shrugged it over one shoulder. He couldn’t give one little shit that he was a big bad Night Stalker carrying a Pokémon backpack. If Bowie wanted to paint his nails and put barrettes in his hair, he’d do that too. He’d do anything for this precious little girl.

She skipped alongside him, trusting that he’d tell her if anything was in her path that would trip her up, and continued telling him all about her day. About how Abigail laughed at something at lunch and snorted milk all over the table, and how she’d felt drops of it on her arm, which just made them both laugh even harder.

Bowie then told him all about the trip to Disney World that Abigail and her mom had planned. They were huge Disney fans, and Pyro knew from earlier conversations with Bowie that her best friend had over twenty pairs of Micky Mouse ears.

He made a mental vow to take her and Penny to Disney sometime in the near future. He wanted to get Bowie her very first pair of Micky Mouse ears.

He nodded at the crossing guard as they passed, and other than, “Really?” and, “Wow” and, “That sounds fun,” he didn’t need to really participate in the conversation. Bowie was content to talk, and he was content to listen as they walked toward home.

Realizing it wouldn’t be the best idea to bring an excited Bowie home while Penny was trying to work, he sent her a quick text letting her know he was taking Bowie to the park, and they’d be home in an hour.

He turned in that direction as his phone vibrated with a return note from Penny that simply said “OK.” She was obviously busy with her calls, but Pyro appreciated the acknowledgement of his plans.

There weren’t many kids at the park, probably because it was overcast, though that didn’t matter to Bowie. She went down the slide about forty times in a row, and then asked Pyro to push her on the swing. He did so without complaint for about twenty minutes straight.

But after just half an hour at the park, Bowie was officially bored.

“You want to walk to the ice cream place?” Pyro asked.

“Yes!”

He hadn’t expected her to say no.

They walked over to the bench where he’d left her backpack and jacket, and Bowie pulled something out of her pocket and held it up to him. “Will you put my hair in a ponytail for me?”

Pyro stilled. He stared at the piece of fabric in her hand for a beat. He’d never done that for anyone before. It didn’t look hard, but this was completely new to him.

“Kylo-Pyro?” she asked, with a tilt of her head.

“Of course, Bowie-Bear. Turn around.” He took the scrunchie from her hand and sat on the bench. Intellectually, he knew putting someone’s hair in a ponytail couldn’t be difficult, but he didn’t want to hurt her. Pull her hair too hard or something. Because hurting this little girl would be like taking a knife to the heart.

He slowly gathered her hair, noting how silky smooth it was, exactly like her mom’s. His first attempt was a complete failure, as he suddenly felt as if he were all thumbs. But Bowie stood there patiently, with complete confidence that he’d be able to accomplish the small task.

The second time, he was more successful. The ponytail was a little crooked, but not too bad for his first attempt. Bowie turned and held her arms out for a hug. Pyro complied, and as it did every time he hugged her, his heart seemed to grow ten sizes.

“Come on, girlfriend, I’ve a hankering for some chocolate mint ice cream.”

“Bubblegum!” Bowie exclaimed.

Pyro smiled. That was her favorite, probably because there were tiny little chunks of gum in the ice cream that she carefully saved to chew all at once when she was finished with the rest of the treat.

Standing, Pyro helped Bowie into her jacket, as it had gotten a little windy out, and shouldered her backpack once more. Then he took her hand and they headed out of the park toward the strip mall where the ice cream shop was located.

They’d walked only a block when the hair on the back of Pyro’s neck stood up.

Looking around, he didn’t see anyone…but he couldn’t dismiss the gut feeling he had that they were being watched.

He tightened his hold on Bowie’s hand as they began to cross a smallish parking lot next to an out-of-business and run-down taco joint. It was on the backside of the strip of businesses that held the ice cream store.

The sound of a car coming at them fast had Pyro turning his head in that direction. Then another car appeared as if out of thin air from their other side. It seemed almost as if before the cars had even stopped moving, two men leapt out and were running toward them.

Pyro pushed Bowie behind him as he turned to face what was obviously a threat.

If he was alone, he would have acted faster. But with Bowie clinging to his shirt, huddled as close as she could get behind him and asking what was going on, he was a beat too slow.