I have so many conflicting emotions about this boy that I’m having trouble processing them. If it were just the two of us in this house, then it would be different. But we have Aria to think about first and foremost. She is small and defenseless, and I can’t help but think that this entire time she could have been at risk. It angers me that Javi has done this without telling me, but that anger is only equal to the sympathy I feel for this boy.
“Where is his family?”
Javi guides me out the door and shuts it behind us, obscuring the boy from my sight and our words.
“He has no family,” Javi answers.
“Do you realize what you could have done?” I ask. “Aria—”
“She was never at risk,” Javi cuts me off. “I would never allow him to hurt her. And I would never allow him to stay here if I thought for one second that he would.”
“But you can’t know that for certain, Javi. You had me going crazy thinking that we were broken. That we were… through. You risked our marriage- our whole life together. You hid him from me. There must be a reason for that.”
“I never meant to hurt you, Bella,” he murmurs. “But I could not abandon him. And I knew that you would not understand.”
“That isn’t true,” I bite back.
Javi steps closer, wrapping me in his arms.
“You are my whole life,” he whispers. “And you have the softest heart I have ever been blessed to encounter. A heart that found love for me after all that I have done. But my Bella, as much as you love me, you cannot begin to understand or know what my life was like in the program. We are from two separate worlds.”
I rest my head against his chest and listen to his heart beat strong and steady beneath me. His words are true, as much as I want to tell him otherwise. I could never understand the full extent of what Javi has been through. And I know that what he’s trying to tell me now is that this boy needs him. He feels an obligation to him that perhaps I can never relate to, but in my own small way, I do understand that much.
“Where did he come from?” I ask. “How did he get here?”
“I am not entirely certain,” Javi answers. “I saw him on the cameras, lurking in the forest. He had been watching the house, and I thought that maybe he was an agent. I did not want to scare you, so I did not tell you. But when I found him, I realized he was only a boy. He said he had escaped and he was told that I could help him.”
“By who?”
Javi sighs. “A man with an apple.”
River.
The very name gives me mixed feelings, and I know Javi feels the same. There is still hurt in his eyes every time he thinks of him.
“Then how do you know we can trust this boy?” I ask carefully.
“I have interrogated him myself,” Javi assures me.
“Interrogated him?” I swallow. “But he is just a child.”
“He stopped being a child the day he was taken into the program,” Javi says. “And I could not risk my family until I was certain he was trustworthy, child or not.”
I don’t ask for further details because I don’t want to know them. From this point on, there is only one decision to make.
“A tool shed is no place for a boy to live,” I whisper.
Javi squeezes me a little tighter.
“I know.”
He believes that I will tell him to send the boy away. I can feel the tension in his body. He doesn’t want to choose between us, and right now he is torn.
“You will need to be responsible for watching him,” I say finally. “It’s the only way that we can ensure Aria’s safety. I need to feel comfortable in knowing that she will be safe no matter what.”
Javi’s shoulders relax, and he nods.
“Of course, Bella. I will never let any harm come to her. Nothing can ever cloud my judgment when it comes to our family. On that, you must trust me.”
“I do,” I answer.
And it’s true. I let my imagination run wild before, but being here with Javi now, I realize I should have known better. Aria and I mean everything to him. He wouldn’t have risked everything that we have without a good reason. A reason that I feel in my gut is about to change our lives forever. It scares me and warms me at the same time when I take Javi by the hand.
“I suppose it’s time for a proper introduction.”
His teeth flash in the darkness, and I know he’s smiling when he takes me back inside the shed.
The boy is curled up on the cot, scribbling in his sketch pad, his hood obscuring much of his eyes and face. He reminds me so much of a small Javi that it brings more tears to my eyes when I kneel down before him.
His hand freezes and the pencil stops moving. From this angle, he can’t avoid looking at me. And I know that this moment is the most important one we will ever have. I only get one chance to lay the foundation of our relationship.
I only get one chance to show him what a mother can be.
“Hello,” I say softly. “My name is Isabella. Has Javi told you about me?”
He looks to Javi for approval before nodding but doesn’t speak. I give him a gentle smile and reach out to touch his hand. He retreats into himself, and Javi steps forward as if to warn me, but I don’t shy away.
Javi may understand this boy, but I understand something that he can’t. This boy doesn’t just need structure and a safe space. He needs a mother’s love.
“I won’t hurt you,” I assure him. “And you won’t hurt me either.”
He looks to Javi again but allows me to take his hand in mine this time. It is small and cold and clammy because he is nervous. No matter what this boy has done, these are still the hands of a child. A child I feel a connection with. I can’t explain it. I can’t make sense of it. But I just know that this is where he belongs. I tell him so. And when I ask him if he would like to come and live in the house with us, he gives me the faintest of nods.
Once we have tucked him into bed in the room that he will call his own, Javi lingers outside the doorway.
“It’s alright,” I tell him. “You should stay here with him tonight. He needs you.”
He leans down into me and kisses me in a way that lets me know he will never forsake what we have together. This has been another learning experience for both of us, and although it was painful, I have come to understand that pain always brings about growth. And because of that, Javi and I will be stronger.
“After what happened with Aria,” he says, “I didn’t think we would ever be parents again.”
I smile up at him and peer through the crack at the form of the sleeping boy inside before I kiss him one more time.
“I think we should know by now my love, fate has a way of surprising us.”
The End.
BLACKWOOD
CELIA AARON
CHAPTER ONE
THE GRAND HOUSE ROSE from the ground as if it grew in that one spot, nurtured for years by the sun and rain. Trees encroached from all sides, their branches leaning toward it, as if seeking to gain some of the same sun and air. Despite time and neglect, the building remained strong, the corners sharp and the roofs perfectly angled. Whoever had built the Victorian masterpiece in the woods had done so with painstaking precision. It was meant to last.
The Blackwood Estate was the last stop on my
survey, and I intended to get permission to search the extensive grounds and do a few digs. Acres and acres of woods, unused farmland, and various creeks and river branches would provide months—if not years—of interest. But my main focus at that moment was the immense home hidden in the dark forest.
I’d pushed the main gate open, the hinges screeching in disrepair. The driveway was mostly clear, the cracks in the concrete streaking like dark lightning. I’d rolled steadily forward, eyeing the gentle hills and wondering what archaeological treasures lay buried beneath the fertile Mississippi Delta dirt.
At the end of the drive, I’d found the faded mansion, vines growing along the sides and a front porch swing rocking in the breeze. Despite its strong bones, time had worn away much of the home’s superficial beauty—the gray and white paint peeled, dark green shutters along the first floor hung askew, and the windows carried a film of dirt, making it hard to tell if someone lurked inside, watching.
A shiver ran through me at the prospect. Slowing, I took in the house’s worn façade and maneuvered around a fallen limb. I eyed the second floor windows, but nothing moved. It was as if the house was holding its breath, waiting for something. For me?
I drove to the side of the structure, the driveway continuing further into the dark property. Gathering my notepad, I climbed out of the car and took the full brunt of the winter wind. Fall had come and gone, leaves littering the ground and crunching beneath my feet. A surprisingly cold winter had followed in its wake, the low temperatures often the first subject of any conversation I’d had with the locals.
The sun flirted with the tops of the trees to my left, throwing dappled shadows against the turret that rose three stories along the side of the house. A weather vane sat atop it, though it seemed frozen, the direction signifying nothing.
Pulling my red pea coat closed, I climbed the front steps and knocked on the dark brown front door with as much authority as I could muster. The wood was too thick and seemed to absorb the sound from my knuckles so that only someone standing right next to it would even hear it.