Astrid The Devil


Astor’s momma told me to work for her if I wanted her. She said that shit when I was 6, honest to God. And I took it to heart. You’ll never see a little boy study as hard as I did, learn as much as I did, and fight as hard as I did.

I can wrap a mathematical equation around your face and then follow it with a mean fist. Know that.

My dad died early and my mom, well, foul shit happens sometimes. And I got my prize. Astor is the only constant in my life. I did the whole boy genius thing, even in foster care, and I made sure she couldn’t choose anybody else. I keep a clean cut. I keep my family fed, I keep Astor in all that luxurious shit she likes, on and on.

But it stings. I know there are things my wife knows that I can’t handle. I get that. You don’t get a Momma like hers and live a happy, carefree life. There are people after my wife that I can’t even look directly at, let alone protect her from. Every now and then she asks my best friend for help instead of me and I want to crack his face open.


But man, I’m super normal. I go out on the ocean sometimes and leave my family to fend for themselves. My pops didn’t prepare me for being the odd one out. The weak one.


I remember my son Moose used to look up at me like I was the hero. Everywhere we went, I was the hero. I fought the bad guys. I taught him to protect the women in his life, to protect himself. I taught him everything he knows about being a man, about growing into the type of man he should be.

Now he stands in front of me if he feels like something dangerous is going down. If he thinks we’re in trouble. Like HE’S protecting ME.

When did I become the ordinary one?


I did the whole kid genius thing. I can wrap a mathematical equation around your face and then follow it with a mean fist. I’m nobody’s weak kid. But sometimes I stand near my son, my daughter, and my wife and realize I’m the odd one out. They’re made of something different man.


But none of that prepared me for this type of failure.