Chapter 6 - Clear Title
The blonde woman slowly stands up, her hand still glued to her throbbing, purple-red cheek.
She looks at the bodyguard, but the guard stares straight ahead at the open driveway.
"That's my car," she whispers, her voice raspy, her pride cracking under the glare of the morning sun.
"My name is on the registration, Julian. You gave it to me."
Julian reaches into the inner pocket of his vest.
He pulls out a small metal fountain pen and a white slip of paper.
He places the paper on the hood of the car, right beside the boy's small patent leather shoes.
He signs his name with a single, quick stroke of black ink.
"It's not your car anymore," Julian says, his voice flat and absolute.
He hands the pen to the tiny boy sitting on the hood.
The child looks at the heavy silver pen, then up at Julian’s face.
"Hold it like this," Julian instructs softly, guiding the child’s small, cold fingers around the barrel.
"Draw a line right at the bottom, kid."
The boy hesitates, then presses the nib to the paper, dragging a squiggly black mark across the line.
Julian picks up the paper, folds it once, and tosses it onto the lap of the kneeling woman.
"The title belongs to his mother now," Julian says, turning his back on her.
He scoops the boy up off the hood, cradling him against his chest inside the navy coat.
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"Come on," Julian tells the child, walking out into the bright driveway.
"Let's go buy you a hot breakfast."
