Ray returns to his house after leaving the kids with Clay. Chaos had reigned during his absence.
Mentions current plotlines in SEAL Team, be wary of spoilers!
Fell Asleep on the Job
Ray had handled more than his fair share of firefights and near death experiences. Hell, he'd even been tortured!
"This day could not get worse," Ray sighed, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as RJ babbled on about how amazing Uncle Clay's adventure had been.
Across the room, Jameelah and Mikey had the good sense to look bashful. Though the grins on their faces when they ducked their heads was more than enough evidence that they regretted nothing. Ray took a breath, flung his head back to look at the ceiling, there was no amount of prayer that could fix this.
"Are you seriously just gonna stand there?" Clay's voice was only slightly muffled. Ray's nostrils flared and he lowered his chin.
Clay was tied to his couch. And not just a little. Oh no. Those were slip knots on his wrists, and by the red welts forming he'd been failing to get out for a while.
"Did you seriously not wake up when they dog-eared your wrists?" Ray raised his hands into air, eyes narrowed. Mikey snorted from where he stood in the center of the room, his hockey stick still in hand. Ray turned his head, "Oh, don't think I can't tell this was your handy work, Michael Hayes."
RJ giggled and bounced on his feet, "No, daddy! It was Meelah who tied the knots!" Jameelah was bright red and trying very hard not to look proud of herself.
"I was just practicing the ones you showed me last week?" Jameelah offered in a quiet voice, her lips twitching.
Ray pressed his palms into his eye sockets, "Your mother is going to kill me."
Clay wiggled on the couch, the pink clips in his hair finally fell out and landed on the floor. The plastic made a loud crack as it hit the hardwood.
There was powder and chalk all over the floor, several impact marks on the wall above Clay's head.
"Don't worry Uncle Ray, I used chalk as my pucks!" Mikey pointed to the impact marks, "They'll be easy to clean, I swear!"
"Will you get me out of this already?!" Clay growled from the couch.
Ray cleared his throat, nodded, "Yup, and then you're going to help your captors clean up this mess." Ray gestured to his once functional living room as Clay sputtered out his protest.
Floral curtains were nearly tie dyed, the rug would have to be power washed, and Ray was genuinely afraid to ask how Jameelah's barbies had staged their tactical assault on the ceiling fan, but they definitely had the high ground now.
"What. Happened?"
Naima's voice was still and neutral, Ray's spine straightened on instinct, "Oh, hey baby…"
"Raymond Perry," Naima's hands went to her hips, "Did you leave Clay alone with the kids again?"
With pursed lips, Ray nodded. Naima breathed in through her nose and Ray's hands shot up to wave her down, "Now hold on now, there were extenuating circumstances."
"Were not!" Clay yelled out, scowling, "I totally could have gone to help Sonny!"
Naima arched a brow and looked to Ray, "Sonny got the paternity test back?" Ray nodded. Naima turned to Clay, "There is not a Hell No big enough dear, Sonny's raging just fine with out you acting like his kerosene."
"He's passed out on Trent's couch, Darcy has him firmly in hand," Ray reported with a smile. Naima hummed and then looked up at the ceiling fan.
A groan escaped her lips, nearly a growl, "Next time, call Jason."
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