Stuck with a Punk ✔

No. 37.: Saved

Should I or shouldn't I hide? It's in the afternoon, it would make sense to take a kid out for a stroll.

"Mr Price!" He yells and shakes my world with it.

I really, really, really don't want to engage in any kind of communication with him. I thought he just jumped in for that one time, not even remotely did I think that he'd show up again. Like I wanted him to...

With trying to think away the boner I got just by the idea of naked Annabelle, I open the door and make sure like legs and lower abdomen are behind it.

I don't try to force out a smile. Faking it would make it worse than being honest and let him see I'm not exactly happy "Mr Ritchie."

"Good. You remember me." He says like a robot that likes to beat small children in its free time and walks in by pushing the door into my face.

I want to object just to make him apologise for slamming the door at my nose but I know if he's here this is gonna just get more weird and hateful. No need to enhance that.

"I didn't expect you." What I want to add is to ask him to leave. Show up unexpected? Expect to show yourself to the door.

He spins around on the heel of his shoe which... looks a lot like something my grandma would wear. Old lady's shoes. "Why that's the point, Mr Price!"

Of course, it is.

It's not my intention to ask him how he is because I honestly don't care but I still find it rude when he cuts to the chase with his particular fake stern attitude and a broom up his ass. "Mr Price, where is the baby?"

"He's in the living room?" The moment I say the statement as a form of a rhetorical question, I regret it. I shouldn't have said that as a question no matter what my intention was.

"Are you indicating on that you don't know where your son is?" He sounds almost enraged but there's something in his voice that doesn't convince me. It's as if he's beginning me to kill him.

I have to use a lot of strength and most of what is left of my energy to answer kinda politely and not drop a sarcastic bomb on him. "Given that you are only a few metres away from him, I suspected you've already seen him."

Finally, Mr Ritchie shuts up. I count that as a small victory because I know he'll stay for a while and never stop nibbling on my nerves.

How do I show I'm a decent guy who knows my manners? The last time I offered him a drink, he accused me of trying to get him drunk! Which is true but that wine was meant for Sue anyway. In the end, I decide to do nothing, follow his ass around my place and never stop waiting for him to leave.

He doesn't think of any new insults or accusations so he marches to Devon. Or the couch, who knows. When he's standing right before him, the kid peers up. I imagine my brows crash into my hairline when Mr Ritchie bends down and picks the kid up.

Maybe there is no stick up his ass after all...

I'm not sure what's the purpose of this mini-freak holding him but I hope Devon will start to feel sick again.

"He's heavy," states Mr Ritchir in a manner you might as well use in a supermarket when looking for watermelons.

Yeah, no shit. I feed him!

He doesn't make any further observations and just stares at him like a perv in the bush. That thought is... a bit too unsettling and I shoo it away for now. Mr Ritchie is about to put him down when Devon reaches forward and grabs for his dotty bowtie.

Do me a favour and strangle him.

He starts entertaining himself by tilting and mushing it between his fingers. He seems to be extremely focused on it because of the way his eyes widen and jaw drops which often leads to him drooling. That's one of the things I noticed about him during the time he's been staying with him that is unique. Most of my knowledge of babies and just kids, in general, is based on watching May and Daniel grow up and seeing Danny struggle with his own son. None of the things I remember May, Daniel and Aidan did apply to Devon which is kind of to be expected but in a way, it's fascinating to see Devon being completely his own person.