The End
Next up in the Boyle Heights series!
Orlando
(Boyle Heights #4)
By
Elizabeth Reyes
Read a sneak peek here!
Orlando
The loud pounding on what sounded like the shop’s door downstairs woke Orlando and had him sitting up in his bed. He waited for a moment because he thought maybe he’d been dreaming. The sun was just beginning to rise, so it was still fairly dark out. It was nowhere near time to open up the shop. That couldn’t be a customer knocking. When he didn’t hear anything else for too long, he lay back down with a groan.
Once awake, there was no way he’d be falling asleep again, damn it. Still, he closed his eyes in an attempt to sleep in just a little longer. It wasn’t until a few moments later as he lay there in vain, trying to catch some more Z’s, that he heard it. A tiny whimper. He opened one eye and listened intently for a few moments longer. Nothing.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered, bringing his pillow over his face.
It was the only thing he hated about his place. His apartment sat directly above the auto shop he and his two best friends owned. While it had everything he needed and was in close proximity to several bars he frequented, it was in the middle of a commercial district, not in a residential area. So when it wasn’t delivery trucks or street-repair crews making noises early in the morning, it was people from store-top apartments like his own nearby, walking their dogs.
He heard the whimpering again of what he assumed was someone’s annoying little dog tied up while they went into the coffee shop across the street or something. With a grunt, Orlando swung his legs off the side of his bed and sat there for a moment, yawning. He was seriously going to have to consider what his friends had begun to suggest: that he start looking into investing in a real home, especially now that business was really taking off. He’d need the write-off, and bringing women back here was beginning to feel like he was sneaking them into his place of work. Technically, it was his place of work, but he was a grown-ass man who was part owner of the shop, not some horny kid using the upstairs living area at his job to get laid.
The whimpering started up again, only this time it sounded different—closer. He almost ignored it as he got up on his way to take a leak when something clinked loudly at his window, making him flinch. “What the . . .?”
He turned to the window, walking toward it. Remembering the pigeons that sometimes made themselves at home just outside his window sill, he frowned, ready to scurry them off. Until he saw an actual rock this time hit his window and bounce off. Rushing to the window now, he pulled the blinds all the way up and caught a glimpse of someone hiding just around the corner of the building across the street.
Whoever it was ducked out of sight quickly when Orlando pulled the window open. He hadn’t been able to make out whether it was a girl or a guy. They’d worn a hoodie that covered most their face.
“Hey!” he yelled out, after glancing down at the good-size rock that had landed on the awning just below his window.
It was then that he heard the whimpering again, and it was closer than he’d thought. It sounded like it was coming from directly below the awning, but he couldn’t see because of it. “Someone down there?”
The whimpering turned into crying—a baby crying. Confused, Orlando glanced around, up and down the street, but saw nothing. It was early. Too early for even the coffee shop to be open, so it wasn’t coming from there.
He peered out at the corner where someone peeked around again but ducked back out of sight when they saw him look up. “Hey!” he yelled out again. “You throwing shit at my window?”
There was no response, but then he saw it. Whoever had hid just around the corner of that building was still there. He could see the tip of a shoe sticking out at the bottom of the building’s corner.
Rushing around his room, Orlando slipped on his jeans and his running shoes without socks, nearly falling in the process. He grabbed the bat he kept by his bedroom door, and started out but then remembered. He darted back to his nightstand and grabbed his beanie, put it on, then rushed out of his room and down the stairs on a mission.
“Little fuckers,” he hissed as he made it to the bottom.
Since they’d bought this place a little over a year ago, they’d had some issues with the punks in the area tagging up the walls. He thought they’d taken care of the issue, but apparently, the punks were still up to no good.
He flung the front door of the shop open, ready to sprint down the street, but came to a screeching halt when he saw the bundle at his front door. That baby he’d heard crying was a lot closer than he thought. The crying was now coming from under the blanket that covered what looked like a baby car seat. There was an overstuffed bag next to the seat.
“The fuck?” he said, stepping out cautiously, still wielding the bat.
There was no one in sight, and that foot he’d seen from upstairs near the bottom of the building’s corner across the street was gone. Walking around the baby seat, Orlando jogged over to the side of the building where the person had ducked behind, but there was no one in sight.
“Anyone there?” he called out anyway.
Turning full circle in the middle of the street, he looked around everywhere, even up on the roofs of the buildings as if maybe someone was filming this. Maybe someone was punking his ass. Could there really be a kid in that thing?
He rushed back to it, kneeling down slowly, almost afraid to lift the baby blanket. Slowly, he lifted the blanket, and sure enough, the pouting baby let out a cry and lifted its little arms the moment it saw Orlando.
“Holy shit,” Orlando gasped, nearly falling back on his ass, but managed to keep his balance and glanced around again. “Who . . .?”
He shook his head, afraid to even touch the kid much less take him inside. He’d just begun to consider his options. Calling the cops was definitely at the top of the list. Then he saw it. He’d been in such shock, when his eyes had met the baby’s, he’d completely missed the piece of paper sticking out from under the other blanket he was snuggled in.
Lifting the paper carefully with his fingertips so as to not mess with any evidence of a possible kidnapping, he opened it slowly and read it.
His name is Orlando, like his daddy. He’ll be four months old on the 8th.. Aside from his heart murmur, he’s in perfect health. No allergies that I know of and up-to-date on his immunizations. You’ll need to get him on your insurance ASAP so they can monitor his heart. I can’t take care of him anymore, so it’s time for you to step up. Everything you need for now is in the bag. He just ate, but he’ll probably need to be changed soon.
He’s yours, Orlando. Have him tested if you want, but PLEASE don’t give him up! He needs his daddy.
For a moment, Orlando thought he might faint. He didn’t even realize he’d stopped breathing until he gasped in a much-needed deep breath and touched his hand to his clammy forehead.
“No fucking way,” he whispered, staring at the piece of paper, then glanced back down at a pouting little boy.
As dazed and shaken as he felt, his expression eased up when the baby reached out and grabbed his finger. His little grip was a strong one, and once latched on, he didn’t appear to be letting go. His other little hand reached out for him, opening and closing.
“Orlando?” he heard himself whisper.
The pouting ceased at the sound of his voice, and then there it was: a perfect little toothless smile that inevitably had Orlando smiling too.
“This is fucking insane,” Nine said, staring at the baby. “Can you really just keep him?”
“I don’t know.” Orlando ran his fingers through his hair, pacing around the room for the millionth time. “I’m waiting to hear back from Slater. But he’s on a flight to Colombia right now. It’ll be at least another hour before he lands and calls me back. I did leave a long text explaining this. So hopefully he’ll call me as soon as he reads it.”
&
nbsp; That seemed to confuse Nine until his eyes went wide. “Slippery Slater? He’s a contract lawyer.”
“I know that, but I don’t know any other lawyers, and if he doesn’t have answers for me, he can hook me up with someone who might.”
“What’s going on?” Beast asked, walking in the back door. “Why are we still not open for business?”
“We’re not opening today,” Orlando said, moving out of the way so he could see the baby in the car seat. “I gave all the guys the day off.”
Beast slowed when he saw the baby and took his sunglasses off. Orlando glanced down at the baby nervously then back at Beast.
With his brows furrowing, Beast met Orlando’s eyes. “Whose baby?”
Nine chuckled, bringing his fist to his mouth. “Mine, I think,” Orlando said, even as insane as it sounded hearing it out loud.
“Yours?”
Orlando explained quickly about the knock at the door that morning and everything that followed. He handed the note to his friend, hoping for some words of wisdom since Nine had zero so far.
“And this was at what time?” Beast asked.
“Just before six in the morning.”
Beast looked at his watch. “Who’d you call?”
“Nobody,” Nine said, answering for Orlando with a shake of his head and another chuckle. “Oh wait. He called Slippery Slater.” This time he all-out laughed, making Orlando frown.
“He’s a lawyer okay,” Orlando said, giving Nine a murderous look when the baby started fidgeting. “He can at least tell me what I shouldn’t do.”
“Are you nuts?” Beast asked, handing him back the note. “You gotta call the cops. Cover your ass. What if this kid’s been reported missing?”
“But what if he is mine?” Orlando asked.
“Even parents get arrested for kidnapping their own kids, O,” Beast insisted, getting a closer look at the baby. “For all you, know this is a set-up. Some jilted chick you fucked and never called back.”
The words “watch your mouth” nearly jumped out of Orlando’s mouth, but he caught himself. He’d been around this baby less than three hours, and already he was feeling protective. It’s why he hadn’t called the cops yet. After rocking the baby to sleep and holding him for a while just staring at him, he’d instantly felt a connection.
“I’m giving it another hour,” Orlando said then panicked when he saw Beast calling someone. “Who you calling?”
“My lawyer,” Beast said, bringing the phone to his ear. “This is some serious shit, O. If this isn’t really your kid and his parents are looking for him, they’re probably losing their fucking minds right about now. I know I’d be.”
“Can you”—Orlando paused, catching himself again—“not be so loud?” He glanced down at the baby, who wasn’t just fidgeting anymore; he was making faces. “Took me forever to settle him down and asleep.”
“Well, looks like he’s gonna be up soon,” Beast said, glancing down at the baby, who was making noises now. “It’s what babies do. If he is yours, I hope you’re ready for it. I don’t know what the hell I’d do without Ali.”
Beast started talking into his phone, and as if on cue, the baby began to whimper. Orlando walked over and picked him up as awkwardly as he’d done the first time.
Nine, who was standing closest, winced, bringing his hand to his nose. “Ooff!” he said, and at that very moment, Orlando smelled what he was referring to. Practically running away, Nine was already several feet away. “That’s nasty.”
It wasn’t pleasant. That was for damn sure. But Orlando didn’t know about nasty. He had shared a place with these two guys not too long ago, so he knew all about real nastiness.
“Relax. He just needs to be changed. The note said he would, remember?”
He grabbed the bag and headed upstairs, gulping because he’d never changed a baby in his life. He had no idea what he was in for. Thankfully, everything in the bag he’d gone through so far had been labeled in detail. It seemed odd to Orlando as he thought about it, walking up the stairs. This was only the second time he was holding Baby O, and already the little guy had grown on him so much he wasn’t dreading the diaper change as much as he thought he might.
Aside from the heart murmur, he was otherwise healthy enough and well taken care of. From the looks of all the labels in the meticulously organized bag, whoever had him for the first few months of his life seemed to care about him. They certainly made sure everything was unmistakably labeled and even left a typewritten list of the foods he’d need to shop for. The note on the baby formula firmly stated, “This is the ONLY formula he can have. NO EXCEPTIONS!” Clearly, someone cared about him. So how could they just leave him at his doorstep?
Already, Orlando was in love with the pacifier. That thing was godsent. The moment he stuck it in little man’s mouth, it shut him up and calmed him. Even that was labeled, “use sparingly.” Fuck that. Until he got a hang of this dad thing, he was using every cheat he could find.
“Dad,” he whispered as he laid the baby down on the bed.
The more he thought this might actually be a possibility, the more terrified he felt for two reasons. For one, he was in no way ready to be a dad—much less a single dad. Already, he had no idea what to do next. But the second was a dread that was growing with every passing minute he spent with the kid. He crinkled his nose. No matter how stink-ass he was, what if they did take him from him? He shook his head, deciding he wouldn’t start worrying about that just yet.
“Beast!” he called out, staring down at the baby’s wiggling legs. He held his nose as the stench got a little stronger. “Yo, man, can you come up here when you get a minute?” He glanced down at the smiling baby. “You stink.”
The baby smiled so big the pacifier fell out of his mouth, but he didn’t cry. Instead, he giggled, kicking his legs a little harder. “You doing that on purpose?” Orlando asked, pinching his nose even tighter. “You’re making the smell worse, dude.”
As much as the pungent smell made him grimace, Orlando couldn’t help smiling. He’d since been corrected. The little guy wasn’t as toothless as he first thought him. He had one tiny tooth—that Orlando could see anyway. He hated to jump ahead of himself, but something in the twinkle in the baby’s eyes reminded him a little of himself. Feeling the weirdest flutter in his heart, he swallowed hard. Could this really be his kid?
Beast walked in the bedroom. “Whoa, that’s bad,” he said, lifting his shirt to his nose.
“Can you do this?”
“Hell, no,” Beast said, lifting the shirt even higher over his nose. “I do everything for Elsa except change sloppy diapers. Well, so far. I’ve managed to avoid it anyway.”
“But you’ve changed a diaper, right?”
“Yeah, but only when she’s just wet.”
“Well, walk me through this, man. I’ve never even done that.”
Beast walked him through it, the whole time holding his shirt to his nose. He started laughing when Orlando gagged but then gagged himself and started to walk away. “Get back here, ass,” Orlando called out for him in sheer panic.
He grabbed a handful of wipes as Beast instructed and started wiping. It took a while with Nine getting curious and sticking his head in the room only to run back out of there cussing like an asshole. By the time he was done, Orlando was sure he’d used far more wipes than he was supposed to. But it was over. Beast offered to hold the baby while Orlando ran outside to throw everything out in the dumpster. Beast was coming down the stairs when Orlando walked back in. He looked way more comfortable holding the baby than Orlando had felt so far. But then the guy was a dad.
Before Orlando could take the baby from him, his phone rang. Remembering the call he was waiting on, his heart rate spiked. He rushed to his phone, and sure enough, it was Slater.
“Call child protective services” was the first thing Slater said when Orlando answered the phone. “I just got off the phone with someone who knows about this stuff. Even if it is your
kid, this needs to be reported. Do you know who the mother is?”
“I have no idea,” Orlando admitted. “He’s three and a half months according to the note, so this has to be someone I slept with last year. I don’t have a fucking clue.”
“Well, first things first, call child protective services, and they’ll take it from here.”
“Whoa, whoa, wait.” Orlando turned back to Beast still holding the baby. “What if he is mine? What do you mean they’ll take it from here?” Unbelievably, he was already feeling alarmed. “Are they just gonna take him from me?”
“Absolutely. They’ll take him straight to the hospital to get him checked out and rule out any illnesses or abuse—of any kind. Then he’ll be put in emergency foster care until they know for sure he hasn’t been kidnapped and the real parents aren’t out there frantically looking for him. Even if you can prove you’re his dad, just ’cause you made him doesn’t mean you’re fit to be a parent. A child is a very delicate thing. If you really want to keep him, you’ll have to prove you’re fit. It’s a whole process. They’ll check your background, test you for drugs, and even send someone out to check out your living arrangements. But you gotta call them, O, or you’ll be in a lot of trouble, and I’ll tell you this much: if they find the mother, she’s already in a world of trouble.”
By the time he was off the phone, he felt dazed. Beast’s contacts told him pretty much the same thing. Orlando had no choice but to make the call. Then he sat and waited. His heart was already telling him this baby was his. The whole time he sat there holding the baby he felt numb.
What Slater had said was no exaggeration. The police arrived first, followed by the paramedics who’d be transporting his son to the hospital where they said he’d be thoroughly checked out. The social workers were going straight to the hospital. But even more surprising was he was asked to come into headquarters for questioning. The idea that he might be a suspect in the case of this kid’s missing mother hadn’t even crossed his mind. Just like that, Orlando’s world was turned upside down.