Fourteen
As Grace waited outside a containment cell for the second time that day, her mind wandered to Davion again. She thought of the way he had looked as he stood before the transparent living room wall and watched Kaiden ride his bike along the sidewalk outside. She remembered visually tracing the line of his broad, dark shoulders, tight beneath his bamboo shirt, down to his loose hemp pants.
She’d come up behind him and encircled his waist with her arms. “How’s our boy?”
“Determined to tear the skin off both his knees,” he’d said with a low chuckle.
“I like determined men.”
“And independent.” He’d placed a cool hand over hers. “He refused my help three times. He insists on teaching himself how to ride it.”
In her periphery, her son wobbled on his bike. His shoes slipped off the
