RHO

 

 

For the most part, Adam was like a happy little puppy who got overly excited about the simplest things. He was excited about leaving the hospital, and driving around in my brand new BMW and he was excited about my luxury apartment. I gave him a tour of the layout. Showed him the kitchen, with the orange and gray painted cabinets and custom made powder coated steel shelves. He looked impressed. “Did you design this yourself?”

I laughed. “No, but I bitched about it constantly to the people who did design it.”

We went to the living room. In the den the walls were painted a light gray with rustic elements. “Classic, mid-century, mixed with some industrial, and street style,” Adam said, surprising me a little. It wouldn’t be the first time. “It’s all kind of cosy. I like it.”

“Did you study interiors?”

“Just a passion. My childhood friend Marcelo, his father had an interior design business and they also sold furniture. I sometimes looked after it when his father was away on business and left Marcelo in charge. Marcelo never liked being there. His true passion was the guitar. That guy could belt out Bob Dylan like you’ve never seen.”

I couldn’t help smiling. Every tiny recollection, gave me insight into his beautiful mind. He could see a movie from a year decades before he was born, and tell me the exact release dates and how the director wanted it to be something else. He could look at a painting and get lost in it for hours.

He was ecstatic when he saw his room. It was a trendy wood floor, with white walls and a dark wood bookshelf. I wanted to make sure he’d be comfortable here. But he was more interested in the TV room and wouldn’t stop gushing over the big screen.

I watched him change the channels and sat next to him, but it wasn’t going to be easy.

Every time I saw him, I was filled with strange thoughts. All the time we drove up here, Adam was in the car, sitting next to me and constantly switching channels on the radio until finally he stopped at something that was playing Mozart. These things he did, revealed him slowly to me. He liked The Beatles and Lady Gaga. So, Mozart, Beatles and Gaga—it sounded like a puzzle I was supposed to solve.

Now, sitting next to him, so close, he looked so innocent, and those eyes, I wanted to drown in them and the hair that I wanted to grab in my hand… would it be so awful if I tried to kiss him? 

God, I was going to need a distraction. I stood and looked at him. “I’ll go get us some popcorn. Do you need anything?”

He shook his head at first then changed his mind. “How about a beer?”

“What about your medication? Won’t the alcohol interfere with your pain meds?”

“I won’t take them.”

“Absolutely not!” I had to put my foot down. “I’ll get you a soda.”

I went to the kitchen to get a bag of butter flavored popcorns, and popped it in the microwave. I set it on timer for two minutes and waited. But before the alarm came, there was the sound of the doorbell. I walked out of the kitchen and made my way to the foyer. I pressed a button on the panel next to the door. “Who is it, Alfie?” But the voice that responded didn’t belong to the doorman.

“Rho? It’s me.”

I quickly unlocked the door and opened it, greeted the suit-clad male standing in front of me. “Boss?” I said. “What brings you here?”

Marcus held up a box of Macallan 21 and winked. “Thought you might enjoy a drink with me.”

I was looking forward to finally spending time with Adam but I couldn’t refuse the man who paid my bills. I led him to the den, and Marcus saw Adam. It was the first time they met. In retrospect, it was the beginning of everything that went wrong.

“You didn’t tell me you had company,” Marcus said when he saw Adam.

“I was going to but I’ve been a little preoccupied,” I explained. “Adam here got into an accident. He was in the hospital. I had to stay with him for a few days.”

Marcus shook hands with him. “What kind of accident? Was it bad?”

“It was but I’m fine now,” Adam said, and I felt relieved.

“Boss, why don’t you sit down?” I gestured to the chair opposite Adam, but instead Marcus sat next to Adam. I couldn’t understand it. I went to the kitchen and took out two glasses from the shelf and took them back to the den. I set them down in front of Marcus on the table, next to the Macallan. I sat on the other chair, and tried to make sense of all this. For some reason, my senses were on high alert. I lightly touched the Glock sitting in my weapons holster, underneath my suit. I was glad I hadn’t taken it off, even though I sincerely hoped that I wouldn’t have any use for it tonight.

Marcus opened the bottle and poured me a drink. I nursed it quietly, when he glared at me. “Why are there only two glasses? Adam is drinking age, isn’t he?” He was making a joke, but I knew there was an ulterior motive.

“The doctor said he shouldn’t because of his meds.”

“Since when do you listen to authority figures?” Marcus was being passive aggressive. What did I do to piss him off now? Adam looked completely clueless but also a little bit on edge.

“Its for his own good,” I said.

Marcus interrupted me. “Nonsense!” he turned to the boy in earnest. “It’s a good thing I know my way around the house and I can get us a third glass!”

He disappeared into the kitchen. “Your boss seems nice,” Adam said, the minute Marcus left the room. You’re saying that because you don’t know him, I wanted to tell him but I didn’t.

Marcus was back with the glass that he set down in front of Adam, poured him a drink and we toasted to Adam’s health. I downed the drink in record time just to be able to deal with Marcus. I wasn’t even halfway through when Marcus stood again. “Rho, there are some matters we must discuss. I hope Adam won’t mind being on his own?”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

I realized it was time to face the music. Better to rip the band-aid right off and deal with whatever Marcus had on his mind. We went into the study and I had a hunch it had to do with Adam.

“Do you know who that boy is?” Marcus was interrogating me the second I closed the door. I took my drink and leaned against the desk.

“His name is Adam…”

“No, I mean, do you know who he is?

“Boss, he’s not part of any family, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“He’s not a part of the Russian family, Sergei has been pining for him for years. They’re not related but the boy used to be under Sergei's protection. He wouldn’t give the Russian the time of day. I think they tried to get him involved in some kind of debt situation so he would be more acquiescent. He’s practically got a target on his head, Rho!”

I hesitated before saying the next bit. “I gave him my word.”

Marcus shook his head. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

“Boss, he was in bad shape. When I took him to the hospital, he couldn’t breathe! They had to hook him up to those machines! He’s just a kid for fuck sake! You don’t do that to a kid just to get your rocks off!”

Marcus was silent. I had no clue what he was about to do, how he’d react. “ Boss, I’m sorry if I complicated things for you.”

He came toward me and placed one hand on my shoulder. “I’m glad you brought him here,” he said at last. “If you promised him protection, then the boy has nothing to fear. We take care of our own, okay?”

I nodded. He looked pleased. “Just don’t bring in any new strays without clearing it with me first,” he said. “You don’t know how much red tape bullshit I have to follow up on with the Superiors, when something like this happens.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

He thwacked my back and opened the door. “You should go back to your friend.”

We left the room together and stepped into the den once again, where Adam was busy watching a movie. Sacha Baron Cohen was dressed as a dictator and Adam was trying not to laugh too hard. He saw us and turned down the volume. “Are you leaving already?” he said to Marcus.

“Well, I have some business to attend, I’ll come back some other time and we can talk more,” Marcus said, and before he left, he turned to the boy once more. “Adam?”

“Yes?”

“Welcome to the family.”