He is

“What?” Brenan asked after several seconds went by without Red saying anything more. Staring into Red’s face as she stared back at him, Brenan recalled how the sexual tension and emotional attachment which had existed between the two of them had finally resulted in a short-lived affair a little more than four years ago, when he had already signed up with another ship and both it and the Kranderkill were holed up in the same port due to the Veertorian navy conducting one of its occasional anti-pirate sweeps.

Their relationship would probably have lasted for a long time, if not for the fact that their serving on different ships and him being a hardened killer had prompted Brenan to end it by leaving her a note the night before his ship ventured back out again. Leaving Red like that had made him felt like a heartless bastard, but it had to be done.

“Brenan,” the fact that Red looked away from him as she said his name at first confused Brenan, until he realized that she was addressing the boy, “please go back inside.”

“But mom…” The young boy protests were met by his mother saying the words “Brenan, please,” after which he scowled and pouted his lips before turning around and heading back into the house.

“I didn’t know,” Brenan said, once Brenan Jr. had disappeared back inside.

“Of course you didn’t. But don’t worry; we’ve managed fine without you.” Red’s reply seemed to mirror the justified bitterness that she must have felt towards Brenan.

“Yeah, I suppose you would.” Brenan’s resigned response was due to the fact that he hardly considered himself an excellent candidate for fatherhood. Disregarding what he had spent the last fifteen years of his life doing, there was the fact that he had never had anything like a proper father figure during his childhood and adolescence. His own father had been a drunken swine, and about the only good thing he ever did was to succumb quickly to the stab-wound that Brenan had given him in response to him beating up the family’s youngest son. Colm had been four at the time when his father had decided to punish him for playing too loud, and his right arm had never mended properly after being broken.

“I’m sorry,” Red offered an apology as her bitterness and resentment seemed to vanish and be replaced by a sort of sadness, “I didn’t mean to come across like that.”

“How old is he?” Brenan asked, eager to move on.

“He’ll turn four in five months.” Now it was the sadness that disappeared from Red’s face as the mention of her son caused her face to shine with joy.

“I didn’t come here looking for a son,” Brenan began, “but I’d like to help.”