A Blind Fall

chapter thirty eight

He probably, successfully and without a doubt appeared unhinged, his overgrown beard covered half his face and his hair had grown a good length shy of his shoulders. His head suffered trying to rack through his memory over when last he'd really shaved. Albeit he didn't stink - leave for the constant reek of alcohol in his breath - there wasn't a semblance of neatness about him, what with his faded denim pants and creased t-shirt.

Over the past months having to vent his pent up frustrations and exasperation, the gym had become congenial to his pertinent need to keep his incessant, punishing thoughts of his alienated son and his mother. He'd come near to death at the anguishing thoughts of never encountering them again and his solace had come from one Jack Daniels too many that he'd almost believed he'd forgotten everything.

And then that psychotic woman had popped at his door, right in his hotel. His suite. People failed to understand why he'd prefer residing in a hotel over a few bedroom house in the suburbs or a luxurious apartment in the acclaimed city of love, both which he could easily afford but he liked it this way. It was around people, as he was afraid liquor and some alone time with his dark thoughts would lead to a foolhardy decision he wouldn't even live to regret.

But because of that fear-inspired move to stay at his own hotel, he'd been reunited with his precious boy and in a most unusual way. Maureen Sylvester had meant to sell the boy to Leon for one million dollars and although she'd made a good job of having the upper hand throughout the transaction which the loony had insisted on being physical, Leon had read all the tale tells. Without a doubt, Maureen Sylvester was officially mentally unstable. She'd hammered the last nail on the coffin when she'd stolen her own grandson from her daughter and delivered him to a man so estranged with her daughter without an ounce of remorse.

As Mrs Sylvester left with a bag full of money, Leon had contemplated checking the next exit to an unknown destination where he'd start afresh with his son but a sense of déjà vu had overwhelmed him, the pained look of betrayal in those eyes as he'd blatantly denied harboring any iota of emotion for her and remorselessly denounced having ever considered loving her, oblivious to the fact that she'd been carrying the fruit of the love denied of a chance, an opportunity to blossom.

That, and not wanting his son to grow up motherless as he had, had persuaded him to pick up the phone and inform Warren and Rose who'd ulteriorly informed Oscar - who'd recently renewed his acquintance with Gabrielle - of his possession of Salvatore.

And since Oscar's and Debra's arrival at his luxurious suite, he'd paid them no mind unable to tear his unbelieving gaze from the boy. His boy. How they resembled each other, blue eyes and dark hair, albeit that smile was his mother's, absolutely cornered him. It defeated him for not being there as he'd been brought to life, as he'd sucked his first air into his sensitive, infant lungs and howled a cry of defiance for joining the despicable, complex place that was the world. He loathed himself for not being there for them two whole years. 

As he carried his son in his arms, the fear of detaching himself again curbing his lungs and limiting them of air, he felt the accusatory gaze on his back. Oscar Sylvester had always been the decent type but a man could only handle so much and after Leon's ordeal with Debra, he reckoned the last thing the protective brother wanted was him being a mile close to his sister. And ultimately, he understood because that stunt he'd pulled, had roles been reversed and a man disposed off his dearest sister Rose after knocking her up for a retribution, Leon would have committed nothing short of murder.

So he understood the hateful attitude,  the acrimonious energy from the man. What he couldn't decipher was Debra's emotions. From the few seconds he'd managed to feast his deprived eyes on her before shame overwhelmed him, she still looked divine. Beautiful and well put together and everything Leon had adamantly refused to acknowledge at a futile attempt to salvage his heart from completely falling for her. Other than that, he hadn't been able to read her, perhaps because he'd felt embarrassed to look into her eyes, meet her gaze. It particularly confounded him when she had less than bothered to pry their clueless son from his arms the second she'd arrived.