Mimi's Demons

Chapter 18: How Not to Welcome a Child

 The little girl had a wad of cloth tied down into her mouth by a long sock. Glancing down at the one naked ankle peeking out from the man's black Oxford shoes, Duke had a good idea where it came from.

"Why is she gagged?" he asked, not at all pleased. The hospital bed wasn't as comfortable as it should be and it didn't put him in the greatest of moods to be in one in the first place.

Omen, his bodyguard and perhaps the closest thing he'd ever have to a friend, shifted uncomfortably. He kept his dark head high, though, the top of his red turban brushing the ceiling.

"She's a biter. Yeller too."

"Have you done nothing to help her feel comfortable?"

Omen did a good job keeping a blank face, even as he adjusted his grip on the girl now stomping on his foot. Duke didn't like how puffy and red her eyes were.

"I didn't know what you intended for her, sir."

"I thought that would be obvious." Duke sniffed, affronted. She didn't smell too good either. "Am I a pedophile?"

"No, sir."

"Do I have any interest in trafficking children?"

"...Not generally, no, sir." Omen sounded more firm near the end of that statement under Duke's hardening glare.

"And it's readily apparent that this girl saved my life, yes?"

Said girl must have realized the foot she was stomping was five times the size of her own, for she'd gone to throwing her head back as hard as she could. Her head butts only came to Omen's waist.

He blinked in confusion that was obvious to someone who was as perceptive as Duke, but wisely said nothing. Though that was as much as admittance as anything else.

Duke bowed his head and rubbed his forehead hard.

God, why did people always have to be so stupid. Even the less stupid ones like Omen. There was nothing he hated more than having to spell it out, and here he was having to do it fresh out of surgery with his head buzzing unpleasantly from pain killers. He hated anything that muddled his thinking. It was his brain that had got him here, after all, and it only took a moment of distraction for all that to end, as it almost had by the chunk out of his gut.

"Get her a bath and some new clothes. Feed her too. Make her comfortable."

"Yes, sir."

And because he was beyond irritated. "Comfortable implies safe. Anyone touches her inappropriately, they die, including you."

"I'm fully aware, sir." The crows feet at the corner of Omen's eyes tightened. He was offended. Despite behind his bodyguard, Omen had more staunch morals than most and had probably taken offense by his boss implying he'd ever molest a child.

"Good. Now scram. Make sure everyone solves their own shit instead of bothering me, I'm tired."

"Yes, sir. Rest well."

With that, Duke was finally left alone to the quiet hum of the heart monitor and morphine dispenser.

Rather than sleep, though, he found himself glaring up at the ceiling and thumbing the prickle of incoming growth on his jaw. He'd been out for at least a day. Had that kitten-like girl still had the strength to try stomping on Omen's feet? If she'd been gagged and fighting the entire time, she most likely wouldn't have eaten or slept. Surely she'd be exhausted, yet still she fought, and against bulk as massive as Omen, even.

He found himself smiling despite himself.

Adorable. And smart too. The doctor's report about his injury had attested to her capabilities, and just by the way she held herself and talked showed a bright mind. She had already been running away the moment Omen had been informed, at a distance, that Duke was below. Unfortunately for her, Omen happened to be a Sikh who knew how to use bolas. Duke hoped Omen was smart enough to tend to any wounds capture had left on the girl, but, well, people were stupid.

At some point, his body and the morphine caught up to his racing mind. He drifted back into darkness, dreaming of ratty one-room apartments and a too-small closet.