♤DEALS♤

Chapter 4 - 'So what do you say, Caleb?'

Dedicated to GBEMRESSSS

There is always a silver stripe in the grey clouds.

-THEO

Caleb Parks' POV

It felt like hours as I sat down in front of the alley and cradled Abigail in my hands.

I've always had a vendetta to this day, and this year proved no different. For as long as I can remember, today was the day I was found. It was also the day I became poor.

Today, every year I lose them.

And since this year was no different, thoughts of suicide flooded my mind.

I drew a sharp breath; as I felt Abigail kick against my empty stomach. It's as if she can hear my thoughts. I look down at her as she looks back with her bright green eyes.

To me there was no point in living, if I was going to be forced to live like this for the rest of my life. The only thing keeping me tethered to this world was the tiny human in my arms.

She looked like our mom, and I didn't want her to go through what I went through. The last thing I want is for her to get into a very abusive family.

"Hey, kid."

I look up to see a man in a casual button-up and slacks. He pulled the cigarette in between his lips and put it out by stomping on it.

"You've been sitting here, crying and singing all day. And I have come to the conclusion that you, boy, have a good voice."

I remained quiet as his words registered in my head.

Were stranger made to offer compliments?

"See, I need your help, but it seems like you need mine." he stretched out his hand for me.

I eye the man and hold my breath. Knowing better than to trust him, I grip Abigail closer to me. Admitted I own nothing more, and I am ripe for the pickings of the streets. That doesn't mean I'll go down without a fight.

Sensing my suspicion, the stranger smirked at me.

"From the looks of it, you'nve got nowhere to go. And it'll soon be rush hour. The period where very bad people can harm you and your sister." He motions his head to Abigail.

I bite back a reply.

"How about a deal? I'll offer you protection."

"What's in it for you?"

He stretches out his hand once again.

"You'll just have to wait and find out."

-

The next day, I got to learn that the stranger's name was Marcel. He was a top shot music producer who was looking for the next big thing. I happened to be it.

"I think you should sing for my daughter's birthday tomorrow, and I'll let you stay the night."

That was the bargain.

It seemed like an easy feat, with little to no issues attached to it.

"Sounds fair, but I still want to see my sister," I demanded.

He snorted and tapped away on his phone. Soon a young girl about nine years old walked in carrying Abigail; she was a carbon copy of Marcel.

I took Abigail from her and stared down at the last reason I have left to live.