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1086 Words
He’s brave. But foolish. My father will kill him.
“Who sent you?” my father asks in a low tone.
The boy doesn’t reply.
“You don’t need to tell me. I’m sure it was one of the cartels. Let me guess. Powell’s gang? They tend to be quite foolish. Those documents you stole have been rendered useless by now. Which means you put your life in danger for nothing, kid. All for what? Enough money to buy a meal? Did they even pay you?”
My father places a hand on the child’s jaw. He fights against the touch for a second, but Uncle Sebastian presses the gun further into his neck, and the boy goes still.
“They probably didn’t give you what you were owed, judging by the state of your face. What’s your next plan, then? You’ll continue to live on the streets? You’re a brave little thing, aren’t you? How long do you plan to live like this? I can give you a better offer. How about you come to work for me?”
That gets a reaction. The arching of a dark eyebrow. But he still doesn’t say a word.
“Your silence isn’t doing you any favors right now, kid,” Papa says. “What’s your name?”
Still nothing. Finally, my father stands. He sighs before waving a hand through the air.
“I despise killing children, but he leaves me no choice. Sebastian, kill him once we’re gone. Come, Aurora.”
Uncle Sebastian doesn’t need any more prompting, but my heart jumps into my throat at the pronouncement.
“No,” I whisper.
It’s practically under my breath, but my father hears. And the boy does, too. The boy with the intense blue eyes slowly looks towards me. My heart squeezes, and I suddenly feel breathless. I don’t like him looking at me. My father’s looking at me too, a question in his expression.
I look up at him, swallowing softly.
“Don’t kill him, Papa. Please.”
I have no idea why I’m begging for his life. I don’t know this stranger. And I never interfere in my father’s business.
My father stares at me, gaze questioning. Finally, he looks towards Sebastian.
“My daughter has interceded for him. We’ll take him with us. Maybe a few days in confinement will loosen his tongue,” my father announces, still looking down at me. “You will be in charge of him, principessa. Do you understand?”
I swallow once again. I don’t want to be in charge of this boy with the intimidating gaze and unnatural darkness. But I don’t have much of a choice. Whatever my father says is law, and he has granted me this upon my request.
“Yes, Papa.”
He leads me out of the dark parking lot and toward the car. But I can’t help taking one last look at the boy. His eyes follow me as I walk with my father. I wish I could tell if he was grateful.
Or if he hates me for saving him from his fate.
As my father requested, I take responsibility for his care. Every day, I go down to one of the buildings in our compound where dangerous people are confined. I go there with food for him. He takes the food, but he doesn’t speak to me. He doesn’t do much at all except glare at me from the inside of his cell. I’m not daunted though.
I speak to him sometimes. Tell him about my day, stupid stuff that he definitely doesn’t care about. It’s only a slight change, but over some time, I notice he starts to relax. He stops glaring when I appear in front of his cell.
It takes him weeks to tell me his name. To say anything at all. When he does, his voice is just as cold as the rest of him. His tone is always controlled.
“Can you do me a favor?” he asks.
I’m so shocked that he spoke to me that all I can do is stare with my mouth parted.
“Why are you suddenly staring at me like you’re mute or something?” he asks, rolling his eyes.
I still have no words.
I’m the one acting like I’m mute? He hasn’t said a word in three weeks!
“Can you do me the favor or not?” he asks again.
For a homeless kid with nothing to his name, he sure does seem entitled. No one has ever spoken to me like this before. It’s different, but I don’t dislike it.
“What’s your name?” I finally ask once I recover.
Those intense blue eyes stare me down for a minute. It feels very long, that minute. He has the ability to suck you in with his gaze. It makes me nervous. Because I have no way of telling what he’s thinking.
When he finally replies, his voice is low, and I get the feeling he’d rather not say his name. But he does.
“My name is Nicolas. But you can call me Nico, princess.”
“Don’t call me that,” I snap. Everyone calls me a princess, and I hate it.
Nico raises a dark eyebrow. “What would you prefer I call you?”
“Aurora. My name is Aurora.”
“All right Aurora,” he states, leaning backward in his cell, the picture of control. He says my name like a threat. There is absolutely nothing normal about this boy. He’s the one in the cell and yet, I’m the one feeling like I’m cornered. “Are you going to help me?”
I really shouldn’t. I should run away. Get out of here and have the guards lock the doors behind me. My father won’t kill him now. I doubt he even remembers his existence. The danger to his life has passed. If I request that he be let go, he probably will be. But I don’t leave.
I stay put because there’s something about Nico that calls to me. It’s the unnatural darkness within him. It feels familiar yet frightening, and I want to get closer to it.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask.
And with those words, I’m pretty sure I have sealed my fate. Nico smirks, like I’ve played right into his hands. And I can’t help a shiver.
Maybe I should have let my father kill him.
- Writer
