Shay Savage - Bastian’s Storm

When I came back into the main living area, Raine was in the kitchen with bread and peanut butter on the counter in front of her. She stopped and looked at me as I came out.

“You were right,” I said. I couldn’t stop the smile on my face. “He’s awesome.”

“He really is.” Raine’s expression mirrored my own. “I see more and more of you in him every day.”

“What does he know?” I asked. “I mean, he said a little, and you must have told him I was his father…”

“I didn’t tell him; Landon did,” Raine informed me. “When he brought me here, and Alex came out of his room, Landon told him I was going to take care of him until his dad got here.”

“Fuck,” I muttered. “How did he react?”

“I think he already knew Jillian’s husband wasn’t his father,” Raine said. “He didn’t seem surprised, just took it all in stride. I tried to talk to him about his mother a little, but he doesn’t say much. He knows they’re both dead, but I can’t get much of a reaction out of him. I kind of think he’s in shock about it all.”

“Why don’t you know who your parents are?”

“I don’t remember them.”

“How can you not remember your own parents?”

“I just don’t, okay?”

“Everyone remembers their parents. Are yours dead?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know that?”

“Just shut the fuck up!”

I tried to shake the memory from my head, but it lingered a while. If anything, it solidified my resolve to win this tournament and give Raine and Alex some kind of normal life—the kind of life I never had. There was no way I’d let Alex be bombarded with the kinds of questions I always had to deal with as a child.

No fucking way was that going to happen to my kid.

“Bastian? You okay?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Just thinking. I don’t want him to grow up like I did.”

Raine lowered the knife full of peanut butter and walked over to me. She coiled her arms around my back and held me against her. I brought my arms up and returned the embrace.

“He’s so smart,” Raine said quietly. “You won’t believe how smart he is. I think as long as he knows we’re going to take care of him, he’ll be just fine.”

I wasn’t sure if it was going to be that simple or not, but I was willing to believe it. I wanted to believe it. I wanted to know he was going to be all right when all this was over.

Assuming any of us were all right.

I heard the sound of the lock at the door and turned to find Landon motioning me outside. I told Raine I’d be right back and went out into the bitter wind to speak with him.

“It’s set,” Landon said. “The tournament will begin the day after tomorrow.”

“What’s the plan?”

“Stay here tonight,” he said. “In the morning, we’ll get on the plane and head up there. The usual pre-tournament party for the elite is tomorrow night, and then it’s on.”

I nodded.

“I’m staying with her.”

“I figured as much,” Landon responded. “Don’t let it distract you.”

I ignored his tone.

“Give me your phone,” I said to Landon.

“Why?” he asked with narrowed eyes.

“This little party has fucked up Raine’s semester at school,” I said simply, “and I’m going to fix it.”

He debated only a few seconds before handing me the phone.

“I don’t have to tell you to use caution, do I?”

“Nope,” I responded.

I browsed the university website on the tiny screen until I figured out how to reach the first of Raine’s professors.

“Doctor Michaels?”

“Speaking.”

“This is Detective Masterson from Miami Dade,” I said smoothly. “I’m calling regarding one of your students, Miss Raine Gayle.”

“Yes, sir,” he replied. I could hear from his voice that he was already intrigued. “Is she in some kind of trouble?”

“I’m afraid I can’t discuss the details with you at this time,” I replied. “I just need your understanding and cooperation. Miss Gayle will be in protective custody for the next few weeks pending an important trial out of state. Needless to say, she won’t be finishing her semester, but she’s concerned about the hard work she’s already done in your class specifically.”

“Of course!” Michaels said. “Anything I can do to help. Miss Gayle is an excellent student. I’ve been wondering what happened to her.”

“She’s perfectly fine,” I said. “We just need to do what we can for her right now. Would you be willing to collect all her remaining schoolwork for the class and forward it on?”

He agreed completely, as I figured he would. Her remaining professors did the same, and Landon helped me arrange to have her work picked up at the university student center by a courier under Franks’ control. She’d have it all within a few days and had until the first of May to complete and return it. That gave her plenty of time.

It also gave her something else to think about besides what I had to do.

Tomorrow’s activities were set. At least for now, I’d spend my time with my family.

Back in the apartment Franks had set up for Raine and Alex, I sat awkwardly at the table in the kitchen while they ate sandwiches. Raine offered me one, but that was junk food in my book, so I declined.

“Can’t you give him something healthier?” I mumbled.

“He’s just a kid, Bastian. It’s peanut butter and jelly, not candy bars.”

I looked over the sugar content on the label of the jelly jar and cringed. The bread Raine had used for the sandwiches was that squishy white stuff, too.

“Jesus, Raine,” I said, “this is pure shit!”

“Watch your mouth!” she said with a hiss.

I rolled my eyes, but I knew she was right. I looked over at Alex, but he was face-deep in peanut butter and not paying any attention.

“He didn’t hear me,” I said.

“Maybe not this time,” she countered.

“It’s still crap food.”

“Well,” Raine continued, “this is what they give me. It’s not like I’m doing the shopping myself. You know I don’t usually buy this kind of stuff because you always throw a fit.”

All right, I couldn’t argue with that. I could tell the assholes in Franks’ employ to get her some better quality food though. Of course, I had no idea what kids liked to eat—weren’t they supposed to be picky eaters or something? Was I going to have to spout a plethora of arguments about why vegetables had to be eaten?

I’m so unprepared for fatherhood, it’s not even funny.

As I sat there and thought about it, I realized just how correct that statement was. I didn’t know what I was doing. Raine seemed so natural with Alex, and I didn’t even know what he’d want to eat for dinner. I’d spent years of effort pushing the memory of his existence as far into the back of my mind as possible; I never even considered needing any information about children. I couldn’t exactly use my own past as a delinquent skipping from one foster home to another as a model.

I had no clue what a six-year-old was like. I didn’t even know where to start.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath.

“Bastian!” Raine snarled. “Stop it!”

I was about to take myself out of the room to let out a good string of cuss words when Alex spoke up.

“You aren’t supposed to say bad words, Dad.”

That single word melted me. It flowed over my flesh like warm bath water and sunk into me so deeply, I could feel it in my core. My throat felt like it was closing up on me, and there was burning pressure building up behind my eyes. I felt Raine’s fingers brush over my thigh, and I forced myself to swallow.

“You’re right, Alex,” I finally said. “I shouldn’t.”

Alex and Raine finished their sandwiches, and we spent the rest of the day sitting on the living room floor with Alex, placing little plastic bricks together in such a way that they ended up looking like little spaceships. There were astronaut figures to add to the cockpits, and Alex flew them around the room, sparking memories from my own fucked-up past.

With a plastic airplane in my hand, I make buzzing sounds as I hold it high above my head and run in circles around the room. It’s the very best plane from the box. All the others are scratched up or rusty.

Jared, the new kid in the foster home, finishes the wooden puzzle he’s been working on and looks over to me.

“It’s my turn to play with the plane!”

“No, it isn’t,” I say. My skin quivers through my body as I hold the toy close to my chest. He’d played with it all day yesterday. I’ve only had it for a few minutes, and I’m not about to give it up now.

It is a something. It is a something important, and if I give it to him, I have nothing.

“It’s my turn!” Jared insists. He looks over to Miss Janet and yells to her. “Sebastian’s not sharing!”

“Share the toys,” Miss Janet says without looking up from the crossword in the newspaper. She scribbles in a word then purses her lips and erases it again.

“She said you have to share,” Jared says with a sneer.

My hands shake as I hold the plane tightly in my fingers. I won’t give it to him. I won’t.

Jared reaches out and tries to grab it from me, but I push him away. He lands on the carpet and cries out.

“He pushed me!”

Miss Janet tells me to stop in the same, tired voice.

Jared stands and comes at me, and I shove him again—harder this time. The plastic wing of the plane is cutting into my fingers a little as I hold it tightly. I take a step forward and kick him in the side.