check them out at home. Normally, he’d flick over to loud speaker, but with Kit in the car, well…the boy had had enough trauma for one day. He didn’t need to hear how the authorities were dealing with his stepfather.
When Breck elbowed open the apartment door with his arms full of shopping, he got the shock of his life.
“Where the hell have you been?” Baz stood with arms akimbo in the hallway. Breck’s tiny living room was full of cops.
“How did you get in?” Breck asked inanely.
Baz looked at him and cast his eyes up.
“Stupid question,” Breck muttered to himself. Walking through to the bedroom, he dumped his shopping on the bed. Kit hung back, holding tight to his books and his bottle of OJ. He stared at all the people and blinked.
Breck realized that Abel’s wife was here too. “Sorry, Jace. Didn’t see you amongst all the navy blue. What are you doing here?”
“Finding a temporary solution to your problem, I hope,” she said, smiling.
“Okay!” Baz shouted. “Now he’s here, we’ll start the debriefing.” The buzz of cross-conversations toned down.
Breck’s eyes went to the whiteboard set up in the corner of his living room next to a laptop that was flicking through a video of this morning’s operation. Shit, Kit shouldn’t be watching this. “Uh, Kit, how about a nap? Or you could read those books we bought. Bunk down on my bed until yours is delivered.” Did four-year-olds take naps? He expected mutiny from the boy but his son obediently turned away and headed for the bedroom. Breck guessed Kit was no keener on rehashing this morning’s events than he was.
“I’ll look after him,” Jace offered.
“Thanks, Jace. You’re a real trouper,” Breck said gratefully. As he shut the bedroom door behind her he heard her say, “Cool books, Kit. Let’s read about how everyone gets sad sometimes. Even mommies and daddies. And children. Especially children.”
****
Two hours later, the debriefing finished. It was the most efficient debriefing Unit Four had ever held.
“Brilliant!” Baz exclaimed. “Forget Central. In future we’ll meet here and do without all the paraphernalia.”
Breck hoped not. It had just dawned on him that his apartment was full of hungry, thirsty people and he didn’t have a scrap of food in the kitchen. His shopping expedition with Kit had been for clothes and toys to make his son feel comfortable. He’d have to race out and buy some food. Kit would probably wake up from his nap ravenous. This fatherhood thing was damned hard.
“Munchies!” caroled Jace, and in she strode with a tray of savory bites. They were gone before she set the tray down. She laughed and sent Breck to fetch more from the kitchen. He stood there, open-mouthed, at the sight of wall-to-wall food and drink in his kitchen. Jace and Abe, he thought. What fantastic friends they were. And the rest of Unit Four weren’t far behind, even if they were treading crumbs into his carpet and yelling out for more beer.
“Here’s to good results!” Baz shouted. “And here’s to Breck Marchant, the new leader of Unit Four!”
Breck damn near dropped the tray he was carrying. He set it down carefully. “You know something I don’t?” he asked Baz.
“Maybe,” Baz grinned, his round, good-humored face creased into wrinkles of amusement. “I’m off, boyo, and as of next week, you’re the man.”
He’d got it! He’d got the promotion to team leader! A tentative grin began slowly, and then spread across his face from ear to ear. He punched the air. “Yes!!”
The whole Unit cheered. “Go, Marchant!”
Someone touched his hand and he looked down. “Daddy?”
Oh, God. His heart plummeted. For a few seconds he’d forgotten all about Kit. He could feel his grin cracking into a thousand pieces. “Hi, son. Come and eat something.” Breck stretched out a hand to his son.
He would never take over as leader of Unit Four. Today he’d become a solo parent and Kit was his main
When Breck elbowed open the apartment door with his arms full of shopping, he got the shock of his life.
“Where the hell have you been?” Baz stood with arms akimbo in the hallway. Breck’s tiny living room was full of cops.
“How did you get in?” Breck asked inanely.
Baz looked at him and cast his eyes up.
“Stupid question,” Breck muttered to himself. Walking through to the bedroom, he dumped his shopping on the bed. Kit hung back, holding tight to his books and his bottle of OJ. He stared at all the people and blinked.
Breck realized that Abel’s wife was here too. “Sorry, Jace. Didn’t see you amongst all the navy blue. What are you doing here?”
“Finding a temporary solution to your problem, I hope,” she said, smiling.
“Okay!” Baz shouted. “Now he’s here, we’ll start the debriefing.” The buzz of cross-conversations toned down.
Breck’s eyes went to the whiteboard set up in the corner of his living room next to a laptop that was flicking through a video of this morning’s operation. Shit, Kit shouldn’t be watching this. “Uh, Kit, how about a nap? Or you could read those books we bought. Bunk down on my bed until yours is delivered.” Did four-year-olds take naps? He expected mutiny from the boy but his son obediently turned away and headed for the bedroom. Breck guessed Kit was no keener on rehashing this morning’s events than he was.
“I’ll look after him,” Jace offered.
“Thanks, Jace. You’re a real trouper,” Breck said gratefully. As he shut the bedroom door behind her he heard her say, “Cool books, Kit. Let’s read about how everyone gets sad sometimes. Even mommies and daddies. And children. Especially children.”
****
Two hours later, the debriefing finished. It was the most efficient debriefing Unit Four had ever held.
“Brilliant!” Baz exclaimed. “Forget Central. In future we’ll meet here and do without all the paraphernalia.”
Breck hoped not. It had just dawned on him that his apartment was full of hungry, thirsty people and he didn’t have a scrap of food in the kitchen. His shopping expedition with Kit had been for clothes and toys to make his son feel comfortable. He’d have to race out and buy some food. Kit would probably wake up from his nap ravenous. This fatherhood thing was damned hard.
“Munchies!” caroled Jace, and in she strode with a tray of savory bites. They were gone before she set the tray down. She laughed and sent Breck to fetch more from the kitchen. He stood there, open-mouthed, at the sight of wall-to-wall food and drink in his kitchen. Jace and Abe, he thought. What fantastic friends they were. And the rest of Unit Four weren’t far behind, even if they were treading crumbs into his carpet and yelling out for more beer.
“Here’s to good results!” Baz shouted. “And here’s to Breck Marchant, the new leader of Unit Four!”
Breck damn near dropped the tray he was carrying. He set it down carefully. “You know something I don’t?” he asked Baz.
“Maybe,” Baz grinned, his round, good-humored face creased into wrinkles of amusement. “I’m off, boyo, and as of next week, you’re the man.”
He’d got it! He’d got the promotion to team leader! A tentative grin began slowly, and then spread across his face from ear to ear. He punched the air. “Yes!!”
The whole Unit cheered. “Go, Marchant!”
Someone touched his hand and he looked down. “Daddy?”
Oh, God. His heart plummeted. For a few seconds he’d forgotten all about Kit. He could feel his grin cracking into a thousand pieces. “Hi, son. Come and eat something.” Breck stretched out a hand to his son.
He would never take over as leader of Unit Four. Today he’d become a solo parent and Kit was his main
Similar Books
Learning
Karen Kingsbury
The Last Confession of Sherlock Holmes
Kieran Lyne
Birthdays Can Be Deadly
Cindy Bell
Old Men at Midnight
Chaim Potok
Craving Flight
Tamsen Parker
Tempo Change
Barbara Hall
This Old Souse
Mary Daheim
Rain Music
Di Morrissey
Waking Kiss
Annabel Joseph