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“Why?” I cut in with more challenge.
He stares me straight in the face and says, “You remind me of a kid I knew when I was little who needed help and none came.”
“You?” This challenge causes a wry expression to cross his face.
“No, not me.”
“So what happened to this kid no one helped, and why does that make you want to help me?” I still think it’s him, but I just don’t say it.
“He became one of the baddest motherfuckers you’ll ever meet with no help. Sometimes I wonder what he could have done had he gotten any. But both of you are clever and have what a lot of people don’t, what I didn’t for a long time.”
“What’s that?” I’m more curious about what he thinks he lacks. He has beauty, money obviously, and brains—hello, law school.
“Courage,” he says, pushing away from the table like he doesn’t want to meet my eyes.
Silence drops between us as he brings me a breakfast of bacon, eggs, toast, and grits.
“Alright.” I cave, looking at the plate so hard, my eyes sting. “Wh-what…” I have to pause and clear my throat to start again. “How are you going to help me? What do I have to do?” I know there has to be something. Never is kindness for kindness’s sake.
“Nothing.” His voice is hard. “I don’t expect you to believe me—hell, you’d be a fucking idiot if you did, no matter what I say. But I promise I’m not like that. I—I’d never…” He swipes his hand through his thick curls, looking away, this jaw working something terrible. Finally, he looks back at me with fierce determination. “I’m going to let you stay here in this house and help you get your education.” He smiles at me like it’s a gift and not the scariest thing in the world.
“I’ve only been homeschooled.” I tell him so he won’t get his hopes up about being able to enroll me in any kind of school. “I don’t have a birth certificate or any of that stuff. We lived totally off the grid.” I lift my chin, waiting for disdain and judgment.
“You’ll be surprised to know that’s not all that uncommon down here. Areas like this are where folks come to live off the grid. We can get you papers. That’s also not hard for us, since we have a lot of migrant workers without the proper documentation.” He means fake papers.
I look at him like he’s nuts, but a little well of hope springs up as I watch him take out a pen and notepad from the counter drawer.
“Full name?”
“Nicolette Miranda Love.”
He pauses a long time like he’s trying to decide something before he asks, “The nameShelbymean anything to you?”
I shake my head. “You mean other than the huge sign above the gate we passed last night? No.”
He expels a breath. “Not that it matters, but our families don’t like each other.”
“All my family is dead.” My voice sounds hard.
“You might change your mind about that one day.”
“All my family is dead, Mathias. I grew up in the circus with my daddy after he and my mom ran away from their families. The only reason I came down here was because he begged me to. But the minute I saw some of them, I knew I’d never belong.” Shrugging as I try to shove off the harsh bitterness of my words so they don’t sting so much. I start shoveling the food in my mouth just in case he changed his mind about letting me stay.
“We can’t pick our family.” He sighs, like being part of a rich family and having everything he could ever want was a burden. Rich people, I swear. My parents gave up those comforts for the freedom to live like they wanted but it wasn’t without some hardship. Their families have a little money, but nothing compared to the generational wealth of his. Still, I know money is not the key to happiness or love.
Picking up the pen, he starts back with the questions. “How old are you?”
“Sixteen,” I say between bites.
“You look twelve,” he mutters.
“I was on the road, man. Daddy always said Love women run small.” I roll my eyes.
“Yeah, Mimi, my friend Leon’s fiancée, is a tiny thing.” He arches a speculative brow my way before looking back down to his sheet of paper.
I perk up at the mention of a possible cousin. But if she knows Mathias, then she’s probably highfalutin and has no use for a girl like me no matter if we are related.
“That would put you as a junior in high school.” He scribbles more. Just as I finish eating, he stands, having gotten all the information he needs. “Just hang out here. I’ll be back later, and we can get the ball rolling on your new life here.”
