THE BLACK ROSE

THE MEETING OF THE BLACK ROSE

CHAPTER 4: THE MEETING

I almost didn’t go.

At 7:55 AM I was still in the motel bathroom, trying to decide if running again was smarter than walking in.

Jackson was on the bed, swinging his legs. "Are we gonna see Uncle Callen?"

"Yeah, baby."

"What about the other man?"

The other man.

Ryder.

"I don’t know," I whispered.

There was a knock.

Soft. One knock.

Callen.

"Hey," he said when I opened the door. "You look tired."

"I didn’t sleep."

"Me neither," he admitted. "Ryder’s been pacing since 4 AM."

My stomach dropped. "Is he... is he mad?"

"No," Callen said. "He’s scared."

That made me stop.

Ryder Wade. Scared?

"Come on," Callen said. "It’s just dinner. No pressure. If it goes bad, we leave."

I looked at Jackson. He was holding his dinosaur.

"Okay," I said. "One hour."

---

Callen’s house. 9:00 AM.

The house smelled like pancakes.

Ryder was at the stove.

Back to us.

Broad shoulders. Blond hair. The same shirt from last night.

He didn’t turn around when we came in.

"Morning," Callen said.

"Morning," Ryder said. His voice was rough.

Jackson hid behind my legs.

Ryder finally turned.

The second his eyes landed on Jackson, everything in him went still.

Four years.

Four years of anger and grief and guilt.

And it all cracked in one second.

Because the boy had his eyes.

His mouth.

His eyebrows when he was nervous.

Ryder’s hands shook. He put the spatula down.

"Hi," he said to Jackson. Soft. Like he was talking to a wild animal.

Jackson peeked out from behind me.

"Hi," he whispered back.

"That’s a cool dinosaur," Ryder said.

Jackson held up Rex. "His name is Rex."

"I like him," Ryder said. "Can I... can I see him later?"

Jackson looked at me. I nodded.

"Okay," Jackson said.

Ryder exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for four years.

"Breakfast?" Callen said quickly, breaking the tension. "Pancakes. Ryder made them."

We sat at the table.

Ryder. Me. Callen. Jackson in the middle.

Like a family.

Like a family that never was.

No one talked for the first five minutes.

Just the sound of forks.

Finally Ryder cleared his throat. "So. You like soccer?"

Jackson nodded.

"Me too," Ryder said. "I used to play. When I was your age."

"Did you win?" Jackson asked.

"Sometimes," Ryder said, and almost smiled. "Did you?"

"Yeah!" Jackson said, and suddenly he was telling Ryder about the park and the goal and Callen.

Ryder listened.

Really listened.

Eyes on Jackson like he was the only person in the room.

I watched them and my chest hurt.

Because this was what I’d imagined.

Late at night.

When Jackson asked about his dad.

Callen kicked me under the table. "You okay?"

"Fine," I lied.

After breakfast, Jackson pulled Ryder to the living room.

"Can you build with me? Please?"

Ryder looked at me. Asking permission.

I nodded.

They sat on the floor with blocks.

Ryder was terrible at it. His tower kept falling.

Jackson giggled every time.

"Here, like this," Jackson said, showing him.

"Oh," Ryder said. "You’re smarter than me."

"I know," Jackson said proudly.

Ryder laughed.

The sound hit me like a punch.

I hadn’t heard that laugh in four years.

Callen and I watched from the kitchen.

"He’s good with him," Callen said.

"Yeah," I whispered.

"Can I ask you something?" Callen said.

"What?"

"Why did you run?"

I looked at Ryder on the floor, letting Jackson put a block on his head.

"Because he left me," I said. "And I was eighteen and pregnant and alone. And I thought if I stayed, I’d die."

Callen was quiet. "Did you ever try to find him?"

"No," I said. "Did he ever try to find me?"

Callen didn’t answer.

---

45 minutes in.

Jackson yawned. Big.

"Are you tired, buddy?" Ryder asked.

"A little," Jackson said.

"Want to watch a movie?" Ryder asked.

Jackson nodded and crawled into Ryder’s lap.

Just like that.

No fear.

No hesitation.

Ryder froze.

His whole body went rigid.

Then, slowly, he put an arm around Jackson.

I had to look away.

Because my eyes were burning.

"Can we talk?" Callen said to me quietly.

We walked to the kitchen.

"She’s going to let him see him," Callen said. "Isn’t she?"

"I don’t know," I said.

"Yes, you do," Callen said. "You saw them. That’s his son."

I pressed my fingers to my eyes. "What if he takes him from me?"

"He won’t," Callen said. "Not if you don’t let him."

"What if I want him to?" The words came out before I could stop them.

Callen frowned. "What?"

"What if I’m tired, Callen?" I whispered. "What if I can’t do this alone anymore?"

Callen took my hand. "Then you don’t have to."

In the living room, Jackson had fallen asleep on Ryder’s chest.

Ryder was frozen.

Staring down at him like he couldn’t believe he was real.

He looked up and met my eyes.

And for the first time in four years, I didn’t see anger.

I saw regret.

"Can we... can we talk?" Ryder asked. His voice cracked.

I nodded.

Callen stood up. "I’ll take Jackson to his room. Let you two talk."

He gently lifted Jackson from Ryder’s arms.

Jackson mumbled something and curled into Callen.

The door closed.

It was just me and Ryder.

---

The Talk

Ryder stood up. Paced. Sat down. Stood up again.

"You look good," he said finally. Stupid.

"You too," I said. Also stupid.

Silence.

"I didn’t know," Ryder said. "About him."

"I know," I said.

"I should have known," he said. "I should have stayed."

"Why did you leave?" The question I’d asked myself every night for four years.

Ryder ran a hand through his hair. "My dad. He said the pack was in danger. That if I stayed with you, they’d use you against me. That humans weren’t safe near us."

"So you left."

"I thought I was protecting you," Ryder said. "I was an idiot."

"Yeah," I said. "You were."

He flinched. "I know."

More silence.

"Is he mine?" Ryder asked. Direct.

I looked at the door where Jackson was sleeping.

"Yes," I said.

Ryder closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were wet.

"Can I... can I be in his life?"

"That depends," I said. "On you."

"What do I have to do?"

"Show up," I said. "Every time. Not just when it’s easy."

Ryder nodded. "I can do that."

"And no pack," I said. "No wolves. No kicking in doors. If you scare him, you’re done."

"I won’t," Ryder said fast. "I swear."

We stared at each other.

Four years of hurt between us.

And a little boy asleep in the next room.

"What now?" Ryder asked.

"Now," I said, "we figure it out. Day by day."

Ryder nodded. Then, hesitantly: "Can I... can I hug you?"

I thought about it.

Then I nodded.

He pulled me in.

Careful.

Like I might break.

He smelled the same.

Pine and rain and home.

I didn’t cry.

But I wanted to.

---

One hour later.

We were walking back to the motel.

Ryder carried Jackson. Asleep.

Callen walked beside me.

"Same time tomorrow?" Ryder asked.

"Yeah," I said. "Same time."

At the door, Ryder handed Jackson to me.

His fingers brushed mine.

"Thank you," he said. "For letting me meet him."

"Thank you," I said, "for not messing it up."

He almost smiled.

As we closed the door, I heard Jackson mumble in his sleep.

"Dad?"

My heart stopped.

Ryder heard it too.

He stopped in the hallway.

Turned around.

But didn’t say anything.

He just looked at us.

Then walked away.

---

That night. Pack house.

Ryder sat by the fire.

Alone.

Callen came in. "How’d it go?"

"He fell asleep on me," Ryder said. Voice soft.

Callen smiled. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Ryder said. "He called me Dad. In his sleep."

Callen sat next to him.

"You’re going to be a good dad," he said.

"I have to be," Ryder said. "I have four years to make up for."

---

END OF CHAPTER 4

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