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I wanted to keep him confined to the guest house, but Sydney felt bad for the young man. One night as we were laying on the couch watching a movie in my den, she brought up the subject about him.
“I think you should let Reiner out of the guest house. He’s been cooped up there for days. The only people he sees besides me when I go to check on him are your men when they bring him food and essentials. Shit, I know he’s probably tired of wearing the same clothes since he’s been in there. Hell, if it was me, I would’ve gone crazy by now. It’s no different than being in jail,” she said, caressing my arm.
I sighed, stating, “Don’t forget that it is his family that wants us dead. We’ve sent the message to his uncle, letting him know we’re holding his son and we have yet to hear anything back.”
“Exactly,” she said, raising her head so we were face to face. “Maybe his uncle doesn’t give a shit about either one of them since he hasn’t retaliated. All I’m saying is, Reiner hasn’t shown us anything for us to think that he is a threat to us. He didn’t want to come here in the first place. I’m sure if it was his cousin out there instead of him, his cousin would’ve tried to escape or fight your men.”
Sydney did have valid points, but I still wasn’t sure about letting him out.
“Let’s say I do give him a few liberties, what if one day he’s out of the guest house and uses that as an opportunity to flee? What if he hurts or kills one of my men in the process?”
Sydney regarded me before giggling, “Seriously, Dom? That boy wouldn’t hurt a fly. If anything, you should start grooming him into being one of your men. We already know of his dislike for his family because of the abuse. All Reiner needs is people around him who will give him structure and show him that they genuinely care. So, in retrospect sweetie you have the perfect specimen to mold into how you want him to be within your organization. But...if you’re not willing to do that for him, then he can always come and work for me.”
I knew Sydney had a liking to Reiner, so for her to suggest he went to work for her didn’t sit right with me. Of course, I knew there wasn’t any romantic connection, but it was just the fact she was willing to go to bat for him.
Could it be that the kid wasn’t like the others in his family? I didn’t know the answers at the time, but we would find out in time.
Squeezing Sydney tight in my arms, I told her, “Fine, I’ll do as you ask, but only under one condition.”
“What’s that?” she inquired.
“He will be with me, at all times. He is to become my shadow. Since I know he won’t do anything stupid with Batista or my men around, I’ll let him have a taste of fresh air. But...at the end of the day, he will go back to the guest house.”
Satisfied with my plan, Sydney kissed my lips before snuggling into my chest to finish watching the movie.
Over the next few days, I sent in my private tailor and barber. Reiner was outfitted with an array of clothing and shoes. The day I decided to let him leave the guest house happened to be on a Sunday; the day we have dinner with the Morgan’s. Not wanting to leave him out of my sight, I made the quick decision to bring him along with us.
When we made it to Ruby’s and went to the family table, Mr. Morgan was the first to ask about Reiner.
After he shook my hand, Mr. Morgan eyed Reiner, then asked, “And who is this?”
Sydney gave me a slight nod, letting me know I had to tell Mr. Morgan the truth.
“This is Reiner Maldau, his uncle is the one who is after us,” I divulged.
“Is that so?” Mr. Morgan returned, eyeing Reiner. “Well. Luckily for him Sydney has kept us up to date about what has been going on and more importantly about this young man. Have a seat,” he said, offering the one empty chair to Sydney’s left.
Once we were seated, Mr. Morgan continued, “Sydney has always been a good judge of character and if she says Reiner poses us no harm, then you need to listen to her. I can look at this boy and tell he’s lost. Now that you have him, it’s up to you to decide what you want to do with him and I don’t mean knocking him in the head, then throwing his body in the Red River.” Mr. Morgan leaned forward, placing his palms on the table. “I’ve said what I needed to say on the matter.”
As I was getting ready to speak, a familiar voice said, “Looks like I made it just in time.”
Looking up, it was my daddy. What the hell?
After making Batista and Reiner move down, he sat in the chair next to me.
Grinning at me, he greeted, “Hello, son.”
“Daddy,” I returned, standing as I grasped Sydney’s hand for support.
He sat in the chair next to me, then scooted closer to the table. He happily said, “Clint it’s so happy to see you after all these years. Chats on the phone don’t compare to seeing an old friend face to face.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Mr. Morgan returned.
While I looked at Sydney for answers, daddy picked up his napkin before laying it across his lap. Southern hospitality never leaves those who were taught.
“Clint, while I thank you for inviting me to join the family for Sunday dinner today, with all that I’ve been told, I have to ask why,” his eyes fell on Reiner “is he here?”
Before Mr. Morgan could reply, I stated, “Reiner is here because I want him to be.”
