Beneath the Scars (Masters of the Shadowlands #13)(38)
“Be right back.” When the boy followed, Holt halted. “Nah, it’s best if you stay outside.”
Carson looked confused, then hurt.
Shit. Jesus, this kind of warning should come from the parents, shouldn’t it? But teaching was what a nurse—and Dom—did, even if the subject matter was difficult.
Holt leaned a shoulder against a patio pillar. “You’re not a girl, Carson, but there are perverts who’d hurt boys your age. Outside, where people can see you”—Holt waved at Stella who was puttering in her garden—“you’re pretty safe. However, if a man asks you into his house, say no.”
Carson turned red.
“Your mama ever talk to you about this?”
More red. The kid looked at his feet. “Yeah. She did.”
Not a surprise. Josie seemed like a mother who’d tackle hard subjects. “See, this, right now—that’s what she meant. I’m a good guy, but you don’t know that for sure. Assholes are easy to label when they act like the two last night. But some bad guys are sneaky. They’ll seem nice—might even be friends or relatives.”
With luck, the kid would never learn how a friendly personality could conceal ugliness beneath. “Learn to be cautious until you’re sure. Which means you take a seat out here and keep safe, yeah?”
After a second, Carson nodded with a half-smile. “Yeah.”
When Holt returned, the kid was slouched in a chair. He took the Coke with a muttered, “Thanks.”
“You bet.” Holt settled into his own seat and put his feet back up on the empty chair. His belly and back were sore today—not surprising after the way he’d tossed the mugger into the car last night. Didn’t feel like he’d ripped any internal stitches open though. He should be good to return to work at the hospital on Wednesday. “How’s your mom? Is she doing all right?”
Carson’s surprised blink showed he’d expected questions about himself, not his mother. Ah, boyhood. “Um, sure. She’s fine.”
“I’m glad to hear it. She was pretty distressed last night when she couldn’t find you.”
“I know.” Guilt chased over Carson’s face. “I shouldn’t have taken off like that. If I got hurt… She doesn’t have anybody but me an’ Oma.”
Good, the boy did have a heart and conscience. “So…did she ground you for life?”
Carson’s lips curved up. “Not that bad. She said she considered it but figured I’d already suffered the consequences…been punished.” The boy’s smile faded. “Because my father turned out to be a dick, and I got kinda beat up.”
“Yeah, those are definitely consequences.” And Josie was a great mom to leave it at that.
“But she said I owe you two hours of free labor.”
Holt lowered his drink. “What?”
“Because you lost time because of my in-con…con-diserate-ness”—Carson frowned—“I forgot the word, but I’m supposed to pay you back. Mom says you’re not supposed to do heavy work, and I’m strong. I can mow your lawn. Clean up around the bushes. Wash windows. Whatever.”
Well, damn. Holt started to refuse and stopped. Josie wouldn’t give her boy the assignment unless she’d thought it out. “Well, Stella would probably appreciate it if you mowed and cleaned up my half of the backyard. Every time she looks over at my side, she gets this…look on her face.” Imitating the elderly gardener’s expression, Holt pursed his lips, frowned, and shook his head.
“She does.” Carson laughed, then sobered. “Thanks, though. For getting rid of those guys.”
The kid’s eyes showed he hadn’t forgotten the terror of being helpless. Holt wished he’d had the freedom last night to beat the assholes senseless. It was a sick world where children weren’t safe. “I enjoyed having something to do. It’s boring sitting around on my ass.”
Last night, he’d felt useful for the first time in over a month. Huh. Maybe he had some bizarre hero complex buried in his subconscious. Actually, considering his choice of jobs…yep.
As if following his thoughts, Carson said, “Mom says you’re a firefighter.”
“Sometimes.” Holt gave him a wry smile. “I started out chasing fire. These days, there are more medical emergencies than fires, and I ride the ambulance some days, fire engine on others.”
“So you’re like an EM…something?”
“EMT—a paramedic.” Holt took a sip of his soda. “I also have an RN license, so I work the fire station on Mondays and an intensive care unit in the hospital later in the week.”
Carson wrinkled his nose. “A hospital isn’t very exciting, is it?”
“That was the point.” How to explain to a starry-eyed boy? “I’ve been a firefighter since I was eighteen. A human body can get pretty mangled up, and seeing that can make it tough to sleep. I found it’s good to get a break.”
The kid thought it over before voicing a comprehending, “Huh.”
Yeah, Josie had a smart lad. And a brave one. He’d done well during the fight. And now, much like his mother, he took responsibility for his mistake without trying to blame anyone else. Too many so-called adults weren’t as mature.