Chapter 6
It took another 5 minutes for security to usher the man out, and even after that Layla held Leaf and Bridget back, wary of the large man potentially overpowering security and storming back inside.
When another ten minutes had passed without incident though, Michael nodded to his sister, and pulled Harry away from him, taking stock of his red eyes and snotty flannel. He'd stopped crying though, thankfully, and green eyes peered up at him as Leaf made their way over first, carrying the kid's denim jacket with him.
"You good?" Michael checked, and Harry nodded, shifting so that he was also leaning against the couch instead of curled up against Michael. A hand swiped across his nose ineffectually, and Michael winced. "Don't get your hand all snotty like that, kid. Might as well have been gobbed on at a bar, an' we both know how much you hate that,"
The kid giggled, eyes still red, and Michael took that as a win. "Change out of your flannel, yeah? Leaf's got your jacket an' we'll work on cleaning it up later. Bridget's got some snacks 'n water too,"
Harry nodded, slipping out of his flannel, and while Leaf and Bridget fussed over him (well, Bridget mainly did. Leaf wasn't a very parent-y person), he stood up to go talk to his sister, who was standing behind the couch, glaring at the door.
"I'm gonna kill 'em. I'm gonna sneak into their stupid little house, shive that obese uncle of his, an' then I'll set their perfect house on fire," Layla muttered without preamble. Michael shook his head. "You think we got enough for bail, much less a lawyer? Don' go doin' stupid things, Layl. 'sides, looks like Harry'll be with us for a while anyways," he pointed out. Layla spun around and glared at him, which didn't really have much of an effect since he'd grown up with her. "He kicked the kid!" she spat. "Over what? A stupid letter from the chimney? Who in their right mind does that anyways? And then chased 'im! Like he owes 'im money! Fuckin' hell!" Layla shook her head angrily, her hands curled into fists.
Michael winced. Layla had every right to be angry- but they couldn't risk jail time for her right now. A bit of graffiti or arson might get you some time in juvie, or at least a holding cell, but straight-up murder? They weren't ever going to see Layla again. He looked behind him to see the kid crunching on an apple, a juice box in his other hand.
"Just. Don' do stupid shit," he advised, and Layla huffed in frustration as he went back to Harry.
They had to figure out how to keep the kid in school now.