Page 52 of Saving Sparrow (Slow Burns & Tragic Beginnings #2)

“Son of a bitch,” he swore, ripping his gloves off with his teeth to insert the stopper again. It was too late, though, as I’d won and declared myself the ultimate winner.

“I won more times than you.”

“You’re breaking the no-complaining rule, and it doesn’t matter since that was the last round.”

“Says who?”

“Says the rules,” I replied smugly, lying my butt off.

I stood, wiping myself down, when the sound of rumbling laughter stalled me. Slowly, I turned to him, watching him laugh with his face lifted to the colorful sky. His laughter continued until I thought I might faint from the beauty of it.

It was different from Elliott’s bashful giggles.

It was dark, almost malevolent, and deeply masculine.

I dropped to my knees again, crawling closer to him for a better look.

The sound faded when he noticed my expression.

As though he hadn’t realized what he’d done, he brought his trembling hands to his lips.

Sparrow sighed, looking upward again. I wanted in on his thoughts; I wanted to do a monkey dance, to cartwheel down the damn hill… anything to hear his happiness again.

“He likes the snow,” he whispered, sounding tired and resigned.

“Who?” Did he mean Elliott?

“Keep him safe.”

“Keep who safe?” My mind was a million miles away, my heart still hung up on his amusement from a few minutes ago. Sparrow went from gazing at me to gazing through me.

“Sparrow?” I breathed. His eyes fluttered shut, and he lowered his head. When he looked up again, he was no longer there.

“Snow!” Joshua shouted. “You kept your promise, Miguel. You brought me to play in the snow!”

“J-Joshua?”

Joshua leapt to his feet with a nimbleness reserved for children, already several yards away by the time I jumped up.

“Keep him safe.”

“Joshua! Not so fast!” I raced after him.

“Snow!” he exclaimed again. “Snow!” He flipped and rolled, making snow angels as he giggled and shouted my name.

“I’m right here.” I chuckled, falling to my knees next to him.

“You’ve gotta make an angel.” His effervescence was contagious, so I flattened onto my back and joined him.

Why had Sparrow let him out? Had it been out of his control? Did he know Joshua dreamed of playing in the snow? If he did, he wouldn’t have been able to allow it before because there’d been no one around to protect him. Did Sparrow now trust me enough to do that?

“Can we build a snowman, Miguel? Can we?! Please?!”

“Uh, sure,” I said, trying to keep up with his frantic movements as he dug through the snow.

“What are you looking for?”

“We need sticks for his fingers.” He turned to me with wide eyes. “Where will we find a carrot for his nose? And buttons for his eyes?” He dashed off, burrowing closer to a tree this time. I couldn’t keep up with his manic excitement, but I wanted to.

“Let’s go to the shed. We might find something in there.”

He ran in that direction before I could even finish. He was only four, but he had Sparrow’s long legs, his speed, and endurance. I caught up to him, making him promise not to run too far away from me before we found what we needed and got started.

“I found the chocolate you left me,” he said, surprising me as we finished with the bottom half of Mr. Snowy, as Joshua had named him.

“When?”

“Yesterday.” He used a small battery we found in a bin as a belly button, smiling at me when it didn’t fall out.

“Good job,” I praised, clapping my gloved hands together.

He snickered, rounding up snow for Mr. Snowy’s torso. That was probably where the belly button should have gone, but I didn’t mention it. “Did you like it?”

“Um-hm.” He nodded. “Can I have more?”

“I don’t have any on me now, but I’ll leave it in your truck again as soon as I get the chance. Okay?” I wondered if Sparrow knew he’d had chocolate. He hadn’t said anything. If he did know, maybe he assumed I’d left it in there the first time I’d gotten in.

“Okay.” Joshua removed his hood, complaining about the fur bothering his eyes. I made him keep his hat on, though. I reached over to tuck a loose strand of hair under it. He’d been batting it out of his face for minutes now.

Christmas had come and gone while I’d spent those weeks hooked to an IV in Sparrow’s bedroom, but I sang Joshua Christmas carols while we worked anyway. It seemed fitting.

Time passed, the feeling in my extremities long gone by the time I began my goofy Seven Dwarfs impersonation. I’d been so committed to it that I didn’t realize Joshua had stopped laughing.

I’d just about finished my parody of Grumpy when I stomped around and came face-to-face with the real-life Grumpy. “Sparrow.” I straightened. “You’re back.”

He no longer wore Joshua’s innocent expression, no longer smiled and laughed like he’d never been happier in all his life. The frown lines were back, his intensity surrounding us.

He eyed me curiously, glancing at the finished snowman, eyes softening. He fingered the long length of rope tied around his waist at one end and mine at the other.

“He’s fast,” I explained, “but I kept him safe.”

This time when his lips twitched, he allowed his smile to fully form. It both broke and healed something inside of me. Sparrow had never played before. Neither had Joshua. They’d both gotten to let loose, to break free tonight.

It had to mean more to Sparrow, though. He’d never relied on anyone before, never had anyone he could turn to for help—and the one time he had turned to someone for help, Amelia betrayed him.

I helped him tonight, and while I couldn’t put a finger on exactly how, I knew he was different because of it. I was different because of it.

He shifted on his feet, gaze flitting everywhere but me. He seemed unsure of what to do or say, unsure of how he should act, of how he should treat me. In the end, he said something I knew he’d never said before, because there hadn’t been anyone in his life the words could’ve applied to.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

I smiled back, stepping closer. “You never have to thank me for doing right by you, Sparrow.”