HUNTER
Cosmosatupon the bed with his legs crossed as I fed him. While he raised his head to the fork I held out to him, as soon as he had taken a bite, he ducked, the thick curtain of his hair falling forward over his face. The doll lay on the bed beside him, untouched. Each time he reached out his hand, he would pull back and look up at me with wide, fearful eyes as though expecting a reprimand.
His body language was telling—the way he fidgeted, hid behind his hair, and didn’t look at me too long. It was almost as if he was fighting his impulses, like a little kid who’d been told that something they had done was wrong. He made a face at the mashed potatoes, so I didn’t force him to eat them, but he gobbled up every bit of the vegetables. I placed the fork on the tray and reached for his bottle of water. Cosmo made a grab for the last carrot on the plate but pulled back his hand just as quickly.
“No, no. You can have it.” He snatched up the carrot and put it in his mouth. I’d never seen anyone eat vegetables with such gusto before. “Here, drink. I bet you’re thirsty.”
He took the bottle of water but held it out for me. “You want me to remove the cap for you?”
He nodded.
I did as he’d asked, then handed him the bottle. Over the years, I’d dealt with criminals of different backgrounds, but I’d never had anyone react this way before… so needy and dependent. We were all treading in unfamiliar territory, and no one else had gotten a reaction out of him. It told me everything I needed to know. If we were ever going to get anything out of this complicated boy, we couldn’t treat him the way we did most criminals. We’d send him right back into his shell.
Cosmo guzzled down the entire bottle of water. Some of the liquid dribbled down his chin, and he wiped it off with the back of his hand. A slender hand with long thin fingers and pink nails.
A soft sound dragged my attention away from those fingers. Cosmo handed me back the empty bottle.
“Thank you, Cosmo.” I replaced the cap. “I’m sure you feel better now, don’t you?”
He didn’t reply but took up his doll and gently stroked her long hair.
“That’s a lovely doll,” I said gently. “Who gave her to you?”
If I couldn’t get direct answers for him, I could ask roundabout questions that would provide the same result.
“Was Princess Poppycakes a gift?”
He nodded.
“From who? Your mommy?”
He shook his head.
“Your Daddy?”
He glanced up and inhaled sharply. “Daddy.”
“Yeah? Your Daddy gave him to you?”
“Daddy.” His eyes filled with tears, and at lightning speed, he threw himself at me and climbed into my lap. I stiffened at the unexpected move, but he didn’t seem to notice. He buried his face into my chest and sobbed between whispering “Daddy” that sounded like a curse.
I didn’t move, and even if I tried, I might not have been able to. He held on to me tightly. His soft hair tickled my nose. The tresses were vibrant and shiny—not like someone would have who hadn’t been looked after. It didn’t make sense. He was an intriguing mix of neglect and care.
Not sure what to do, I sat there and allowed him to cry. The bigger picture. I needed to keep the bigger picture in mind, and that should pull the focus away from this stranger who was on my lap, weeping his heart out into my shirt while god alone knew how many of the agents watched from the other side.
My cheeks flamed, but I curbed the instinct to set him aside and get the hell out of there.
When his tears subsided, I patted his back awkwardly. “I guess you miss your Daddy, huh?”
He nodded but then shook his head. Interesting.
“Maybe we can find him for you. If you give us a name, then we can track him down and let him know where you are.”
He loosened his hand from my shirt and slipped off my lap to the floor. He scooted under the bed, taking his doll with him as well as the blanket.
“Daddy. Bad man,” he whispered.
My heart skipped a beat. This was it. We were one step closer. “What did Daddy do to make him a bad man?”