A Beast Among Gods (The Mac Tire Chronicles) by Garnet Davenport (have you read this book .TXT) 📕

The room went silent. They all looked at each other and then back to me. “Of course not. Why would you think he was going to hit me?”

“Because you disobeyed him,” I said, not understanding what was happening.

“Because I hit him?” she asked.

“Uh-huh.”

“Is that what your father did to your mother?” she asked, coming closer to me.

“Uh-huh.”

She turned and looked back at the officer and the other man. When she turned back around to me, she smiled and said, “No, sweet boy, that’s not how people treat people they love. I was joking with Mr. Dewills. We would never hurt each other on purpose.”

“So he’s not going to hurt you?” I asked.

“No, never,” the man said at the same time the woman shook her head. I started to feel a little safer.

“Come on and sit down. I made some biscuits and sausage gravy for breakfast.”

“Okay.”

She pulled the same chair out, and I sat. There was already a yellow plate on a dark blue cloth sitting in front of me. She pulled open a biscuit and left it open on my plate then poured a huge spoonful of sausage-pepper gravy over the top. It smelled delicious. “I’ve got fresh squeezed orange juice or milk. Which would you like?”

I looked up at her with a huge bite of gravy covered biscuit barely fitting in my mouth. She giggled as I tried to get it chewed and get it down so I could answer her. With a big swallow I said, “Orange juice, please.”

“You got it,” she said with a smile.

She poured the glass while I ate more of my biscuit. It was so good. But when she sat down, I looked up and realized all three of them were staring at me. I started to chew slower until they went back to their own plates.

“William, would you like another biscuit?” the man asked.

I looked up to him and nodded once. He got up to do the same as the woman had done by splitting open the biscuit and placing it on the plate before putting another big spoonful of gravy over the top. Then he went to sit back down. He had gotten close to me, but I hadn’t felt the same way I had last night. He wasn’t as scary as I thought he was, but I still wasn’t ready to trust him.

My attention was brought to the officer still wearing his uniform. He reminded me of Captain America and how he serves and protects. A man that can be trusted to do the right thing. And the only reason I know this is because my father hated any kind of police, and that means I can trust them.

“I’m going to have to get back. William, how are you feeling here? The Dewills are going to keep you safe,” he explained.

“Why can’t you stay?” I asked.

“I have to get back to my job and my wife. I live there,” he explained.

“Will you be back?” I whispered, already knowing the answer.

“No. I can’t. It’s to keep you all safe. I won’t ever see you again,” the officer said.

Tears started to build in my eyes. Everyone that has ever tried to keep me safe and take care of me leaves. He kneeled down to me and said, “It’s always to keep you safe. If I were to come to visit, someone could track me and find you. I would never let that happen. Do you understand?”

I did understand. That was the worst part about it. I nodded in understanding.

“I promise you’ll be safe here. If there is ever any time you truly need me, I will be there for you.”

Little did I know that was not only true, but the strange ways in which our lives were weaved would be discovered in a matter of time.

I watched as the officer got into his car and drove out of sight. I sat on the steps of their front porch for hours, wondering if he would return. Wanting him to return. I stretched out my hearing and tried to listen in to a conversation that wasn’t there. I turned around and watched as the man and woman moved their hands around in odd ways and were nodding at each other while they were doing it as if there was some sort of silent conversation happening. As I watched them go back and forth moving their hands in almost a repetitive motion, I started to see a sort of alphabet in their movements.

I heard a strange sound of boots scratching across rocks. The rhythm stayed constant as a man finally came walking out of nowhere. He was wearing a dark gray suit with a purple swirly tie. His cane barely touching the ground as he walked. When he came closer, I could see his dark brown hair and fine lines of age. He had a full beard that was neatly groomed and a comfortable smile on his face as his eyes met mine.

“Hello there. My name is Aodhan. What’s yours?” the man said.

“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers,” I replied, getting ready to get up off the steps and run.

He chuckled. “That is true, my boy. But…” he urged me closer as to tell a secret, “I happen to know exactly who you are, and you are definitely no stranger to me, William.”

My jaw dropped. How did he know my name? Who was this mysterious man? So many questions flew through my mind. The man who called himself Aodhan gave me a sly smirk and gently sat both of his hands on top of this cane planted between his feet. I could hear the man come from inside the house as he noticed this Aodhan man in front of me.

“O’Dorcha, I’m so glad you were able to make it on such short notice.” The man shook this Aodhan O’Dorcha’s hand.

“I’m honored you sent for me. I am always willing to help those who need it most. I