Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
This time I do stop impatiently for the light. As I wait, I glance at the feed on the right side of my vision. Sammy rolls out of an elevator into what looks like an underground parking garage. He’s on the hoverboard I gave him for his birthday.
“Is that what he’s been carrying around in that duffel bag?” I mutter to myself.
Right away, I notice there’s something odd about Sammy’s posture while on the hoverboard. It’s like he’s mounted it at a strange angle or something. He’s also a bit slouched and he has Czar’s gray peacoat on over his shoulders as they’re slumped.
My brother and Maldonado step out of the elevator after Sammy, looking vigilant but calm. The feed focuses solely on my son. I note that he’s wearing sneakers.
Sammy is probably the only eleven-year-old I know who owns more dress shoes than sneakers and play shoes. When he left this morning, he was in a pair of black square-cap-toed oxfords. I know this because I whistled and teased him about how sharp he looked.
The smile on his face was so adorable and handsome as he fell into mocking the mannerisms he picked up from the Blacks—Ryan Black specifically—and began to preen and show off his fit. I laughed so hard while holding my belly and thinking about how much he’s growing up. I knit my brows, wondering what’s going on.
A horn behind me honks as I remain at the light, distracted by what I’m watching. I curse and pull off, gunning the bike once again. I’m trying to keep my focus on the road, but it’s hard.
With each passing moment, I’m starting to understand what it is like to live in Sammy’s head. No wonder some days he can’t give anyone his focus. I’m so overstimulated right now.
However, knowing my son is in danger, I focus and push forward to his location. He has said we’re not going to make it in time, but I will do everything in my power to get there to cover him. Even if that means breaking every single traffic law there is.
In this moment, I wish I had ridden on the back of LaSalle’s bike. We had thought it would be fun to ride side by side for our date night. It’s something we haven’t done in a while.
Now I regret the decision wholeheartedly. When sound fills my helmet from the live feed coming in, I regret it even more. My heart is pounding and I think I might lose my mind.
“Hey, buddy, you should be careful riding on that thing in here.” A male voice fills my ears.
“I’m not your buddy and you’re the one who should be careful who you talk to,” Sammy replies.
“What did you say to me?” The guy seethes.
“I said you should be careful with me; clean your ears out while you’re at it.”
“Come here, you little son of a bitch. I’m going to kill you.”
“Neither one of my mothers is a bitch, but the one who birthed you will sob over your dead body. I promise.
Then Sammy says. “Miss Lovie, my theme music, please.”
“Seven Nation Army” by The White Stripes begins to play, filling the helmet and adding another layer of stimulation. Sammy starts to hum the song to himself. It’s all happening so fast, yet in what seems like slow motion.
I come to another stop behind the truck in front of me just as Sammy flings Czar’s peacoat off, revealing his shoulder holster with two pistols. I snort because the guns look like toys with the Spider-Man Cerakote they were customized with. However, I know better.
Those are no water guns. My mouth falls open as the guy already has a knife out as he slashes at Sammy. Sammy ducks away as the guy keeps coming at him.
Suddenly, gunfire can be heard around them. However, what has me frozen in shock is my son. He glides back a bit, then dips back like a scene out of The Matrix and reaches under the hoverboard, grabbing a Mini Draco out of thin air. When Sammy rights himself on the board, he guns down the guy who’s slashing at him.
Then he moves through the garage like a mini soldier on a mission. Moving behind cars to take cover, then putting down the others who have guns drawn as they try to get to him.
I can’t do this. I have to pull over. I’m going to get myself killed trying to ride and watch this.
I blink back tears as the view switches and I see that my brother and Maldonado are covering Sammy, but Sammy is handling the situation like a beast. The two of them must have been the gunfire I heard earlier.
My tight chest loosens a bit as I can see with my own two eyes that my brother is there to protect my baby. Knowing this is how it is in Sammy’s head while he does this has me in more awe of the child.