Hear Me Sin

Chapter Nineteen

It immediately made French rigid, grinding his jaw. He wasn't opposed to hurting a kid. He'd never done it, but with the loss of his wife he'd become a shell of a human.

Inola and French were left in the kitchen. Inola stared at his back as he moved around, cooking as if nothing happened. She had her notepad and pen in her hand already and placed it down to write something. She tapped him when she was done but he didn't take it right away, focusing on flipping his eggs over in the pan. Once he did that he lowered the fire and read her message.

My son is not retarded, please stop saying that. It's dehumanizing and it's morally wrong. He's mentally impaired or special needs.

French snatched the pen out her hand and wrote back, before giving her back her pen and pad.

I'll let you know when I'm working for the government and give a fuck about political correctness. If you're retarded, you're retarded. If you're a faggot, you're a faggot. If you're a slut, you're a slut and if you're ugly, you're ugly. I'll say what the fuck I want when I want. Especially when it's the truth. Take that liberal bullshit somewhere else.

Inola looked up and saw his back was facing her again as he moved all over the kitchen. She didn't say anything else and walked away. She wasn't as angry as she should've been at the fact he had disrespected her child, in a weird way she could tell he wasn't doing it to be deliberately mean. It just seemed that he had a lot of issues. He was so angry, so bitter. She wondered what happened to make him act this way.

French collected his plate that had a healthy amount of eggs, sausage and four pieces of whole wheat toast with butter. He ate for two people, but this was a habit from usually being outside all day on missions and not being able to eat, so he ate a lot in the morning to last him for the whole day sometimes.

He sat at the other end of the table, far away from Inola. The kitchen was quiet but he was aware she was there because she was making some kind of soft rhythmic pattern with the back of her knuckles. It was actually really irritating. He was chewing his eggs but had to stop and glance up at her.

She was looking across the room, but he could tell she was aware he was looking at her. She held her notepad and pen loosely in her hand. Her body language suggested she wanted to say something else, but he wasn't going to ask. Inola finally looked in his direction and saw the annoyance on his face, so she stopped drumming her fingers and twisted her lips to the side.

It was quiet but awkward because she was just standing there watching him eat. After a while French let his fork drop in his plate, making the metal slap against the ceramic dish. He grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth, "What?" He said, he was sure she could understand that.

She scribbled something down in her book and slid it all the way on the other side to him. He found the newest page and read it quickly.

I'd like my children and I to visit my fiancé today. He's in the hospital in a coma.

French simply looked up at her. "No." He said, sure she was able to tell what he said, again.

Inola clasped her hands together and pushed her bottom lip out.

French sat up and made a motion with his hand for the writing utensil. Inola sent it skidding across the table and he caught it. He wrote something down for her and sent it back across the table, continuing to eat.

Look, I know you're "special needs" like your son, but you seem to be the high functioning one. So I'm going to need you to use your high functioning brain and understand we're being targeted by the Mafia. This is not a game, so unless you wanna try and go visit him and end up deaf and dead, I highly consider you think about reality for a minute. Visiting your boyfriend is not top priority right now. You'll get to do what you want when this is all over.