Ask Me If I Care (SWAT Generation 2.0 4)

I caught his grubby little hand with mine, then stood up and looked around for his mother.

This part of the area wasn’t congested with people yet, so as I looked around, I had about three options. And all of those options were playing on their phones, not paying attention in the slightest.

I gritted my teeth and walked up to the only woman that was within thirty feet.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” I said. “Is this your son?”

“Orange balloons?” she asked, not looking up from her phone.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, getting pissed.

She finally looked up then stared me straight in the eyes for all of two seconds, then looked back down at her son.

The woman grabbed the little boy by the hand and started yanking him away, uncaring that his little feet couldn’t keep up with her fast pace.

The boy fell, hit the ground, then got right back up because his mother yanked him up by the arm.

I got angry and said, “Hey! Ma’am!”

The woman didn’t turn.

“Ma’am!” I tried again.

The woman turned, gave me a look that clearly said ‘stay out of it’ and kept walking.

So I lost my temper and threw the bucket.

It hit her in the back as I said, “You forgot your son’s bucket.”

She turned and picked it up, leaving all the stray candy on the ground, too lazy to pick it all up.

I narrowed my eyes again and walked over to it after she was about five paces ahead of me.

After picking up the candy, I ripped open a Snickers and glared at her back.

“Thanks for the balloons,” I snapped.

She froze and turned, her eyes flaring when she saw me with the balloons.

“I just paid five dollars for those,” she snapped. “Give them back.”

I rolled my eyes, turned on my heel, and kept walking.

I viciously tore into the Snickers and threw the trash into the trash can.

“Those are my kid’s balloons! Give them back!” she yelled.

I flipped her off and kept walking.

I also managed to not call social services and report that a dumbass had control of a child when she shouldn’t.

Then I realized that this kid’s ‘Halloween outfit’ wasn’t an outfit at all.

The mother had been dressed in head to toe designer and clean as a whistle.

Her son, on the other hand? I would’ve assumed he hadn’t had a shower in days.

***

Hayes

“That’s her,” my sister, Christiny, said.

I looked at Ares, who had her arms crossed over her chest with a mutinous expression on her face.

“What about her?” I asked curiously.

“She’s the one that stole Raj’s balloons,” Christiny snapped.

I looked over at Ares again, one of my boss’s daughters, and then looked back at Christiny.

I’d seen the entire encounter take place, and Raj didn’t give a fuck about losing his balloons. Christiny did.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked. “Arrest her?”

Christiny glared. “I want you to go talk to her. Get my balloons back.”

Her balloons.

The only reason she fuckin’ wanted them was to tie them around Raj’s wrist so if she lost him in the crowd, she could easily find him.

Honestly, I wasn’t sure why she was even here.

But I was already tired of it.

“Listen, Christiny,” I said. “I’m here working. I need you to move along. Go take Raj to play some games or something.” I looked down at Raj. “And for God’s sake, give the kid a fuckin’ bath. He’s filthy. I can’t believe you even brought him out like that.”

Christiny bared her teeth.

“Desmond is supposed to be here with his other family,” she sneered. “I want them to see what kind of life we’re having to live without his help.”

I blinked.

“Desmond isn’t going to fall for that line,” I said. “You have a professional baseball player for a brother. Who’d be willing to help you if you only asked. Not to mention I gave you five hundred dollars last month on top of Desmond giving you child support. Where are you putting the money if it’s not into Raj’s care?”

I looked pointedly at the new phone that Christiny was holding.

The old phone had a crack down the middle of the screen because she’d let Raj play with it to keep him occupied while she got her nails done.

“I don’t have to listen to this,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Where’s my kid?”

I nearly rolled my eyes.

“He’s by the hot dog cart,” I said. “Ares is handing him a hot dog as we speak.”

Christiny’s face turned mutinous as she practically stormed over to the stand, grabbed her kid, and hauled him away kicking and screaming.

Ares wiggled the hot dog at her, asking her if she wanted it.

“I’ll take it,” I rasped, holding out my hand.

She gave it to me, her eyes wide.

She hadn’t known that I was there.

“Umm,” she said. “Do you know her?”

I tugged on the balloons still attached to Ares’ wrist.

“She’s Ryan’s sister,” I answered.