Dark Hearts

by Micalea Smeltzer

  “He shouldn’t have done that.” I shake my head, anger still coursing through my veins.

  “Done what?”

  I shake my head, searching for the words. “Shouldn’t have looked into you. It was wrong and invasive. You’re important to me and he pried into your fucking life. He spied on you. Shit, Nova.” I slam on the brakes and look down at the papers in my lap, elation replacing fury. “Holy shit,” I exclaim.

  “What?” Her lips part in confusion. “What’s going on?”

  I hold up the papers. “We’re going to find your son.”

  “What?” She’s still confused.

  I pull off the road so we don’t get hit and put the truck in park. “My dad must’ve hired an investigator or something to look into your past, after he spoke with Harry Mitchell—Owen’s dad.”

  “Why would he do that?” she asks, her nose crinkling.

  “Because he’s my dad, and that’s what he does. He had a background check done on my prom date back in high school, so I honestly shouldn’t be that fucking surprised that he did this.”

  “Okay, but what does this have to do with my son.” Nova shakes her head, not following my gist.

  “Because—” I wave the papers in her face “—we have the adoption papers. We know the adoptive parents’ names now.”

  Her mouth parts into a perfect O and then she bursts into tears. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, I am.”

  “Oh, my God.” She unbuckles her seatbelt and crawls across the console to get in my lap.

  I hug her to me.

  All I’ve wanted for the last month is to reunite Nova with her son, even if only through a picture, and now thanks to my dad, I just might be able to do that and more.

  Nova

  “We’re going to find your son.”

  Jace’s words have echoed in my head non-stop for the last couple of days.

  A constant loop as I go to work and the bar.

  “We’re going to find your son.”

  For four years, I resolved myself to the fact that I’d never know him. Never see him. Never hear his voice.

  Never, never, never.

  Never has now become maybe.

  I think maybe is the dirtiest temptress to ever exist.

  Maybe just hangs there, waiting.

  Something could happen, or it could not.

  I don’t know what the future holds.

  Maybe has given me a hope I didn’t have before.

  I lock up the record store and bundle my coat around my body. It’s late and snow flurries begin to fall from the cloudy sky.

  I head over to W.T.F. and find Jace manning the bar. The place is packed but I manage to find a stool.

  “Hungry?” he asks in passing, setting a drink down.

  “Starving. I skipped lunch.”

  He gives me a look that tells me exactly what he thinks about me skipping lunch.

  “What do you want?” he asks.

  “Um … cheese fries and a B.L.T..”

  “Coming right up.” He spins around to enter my order into the computer.

  He’s busy bartending so we don’t have much time to talk. It isn’t long until my meal is ready and he brings me my food.

  “Have you talked to your dad?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “He keeps calling, wanting to meet up and apologize, but … I mean, so much damage is done and him looking into your past …” Jace shakes his head. “Unforgivable.”

  “If he hadn’t done that we wouldn’t have the birth parents’ name.”

  Jace raises a finger. “Don’t defend him.”

  I raise my hands innocently. “I’m not. You know how I feel about my parents. I’m just saying. Maybe … maybe you owe it to yourself to speak with him one last time. There might be a missing piece. You never know.”

  Jace looks doubtful. “I don’t know.”

  “Just think about it.”

  I know from what Jace has told me that his dad wasn’t a good man while he was growing up, but the way I see it, people aren’t born evil, they’re made, and there has to be more to his father than meets the eye. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like the guy, and probably never will. He was rude at that stupid Thanksgiving gala thing, and snooping into my past was the final peg. But I feel like it’s important for Jace to have … closure, some sort of understanding, I guess. He doesn’t have a mom. All he has left is his dad, no matter how awful he is.

  I eat while Jace works and then I hang out at the bar.

  I wait until he gets off and we head out together.

  When it’s nice out, Jace walks to work, but since it feels like Antarctica he’s been driving so we pile into his truck.

  I yawn, exhaustion taking over as he pulls out onto the street.

  It doesn’t take us long to arrive at the apartment and we head straight inside.

  I shower and change into my pajamas and climb into Jace’s bed. My eyes are heavy and I struggle to keep them open.

  “Come to bed,” I plead, patting the empty space beside me.

  “In a little bit. I want to look for a little while.” Jace picks up his laptop and sits on the couch.

  I sigh. Every night since the fateful dinner Jace has been scouring the internet, searching for more information on the birth parents. They must be perfectly normal people because so far, his search hasn’t turned up much.

  “Are you sure?”

  He nods, already zeroed in on the screen.

  I’m too tired to fight him and fall right to sleep.

  “I found them!”

  I jolt awake at the sound of Jace’s exclamation.

  “Huh?” I blink the sleep from my eyes.

  “Nova.” His eyes shine. “I know his name.”

  That gets my attention. I hurry out of bed and to the couch.

  “You know his name?” I repeat.

  Jace nods. “Greyson. His name is Greyson.”

  I start sobbing. I can’t help it. All these years of not having a face or a real name for him has been hell. But now I finally know.

  “How’d you find him?” I ask.

  “His adopted mom has a Facebook. It took me a while to find it because it’s connected to her maiden name—Sarah Evans, instead of Sarah Hollis. But I found them, and, Nova, you’re never going to believe this.”

  “What?” I ask around my tears, not sure I can handle any more news.

  “They live in Boulder.”

  I stare at him, dumbfounded. “No,” I say in disbelief.

  “Yes.” He nods. “He lives forty minutes from here.”

  “I can’t believe this,” I cry, my hands shaking. I feel like I’m coming down from an adrenaline high.

  “Believe it. Do you want to see a picture of him?” Jace asks, fighting back his own emotions thanks to the onslaught of mine. “He looks like you.”

  I clutch my chest. “I-I d-don’t know,” I stutter. “I’m scared.”

  He grabs my hand. “I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

  I close my eyes. Jace has me. He always has.

  I nod. He turns the computer around to face me and another sob breaks free of my chest.

  “He has freckles,” I blurt, shocked. I didn’t expect the freckles. “Oh, my God.” I struggle to get enough air into my lungs. I peer at the image on the screen of the little boy, of my son.

  Four years of dreaming about what he looks like and I finally know.

  He’s more perfect than I ever imagined.

  “He has my nose too.” I point to his slightly upturned nose. There are pieces of Owen in him too, from his mop of dark hair to the shape of his face. “He even has my eyes.” I move my finger to point to his round, chocolate colored eyes. “He’s … Wow.”

  “I know.” Jace squeezes my hand.

  “He’s the most perfect little boy I’ve ever seen.”

  “You know what I can’t believe?” Jace starts and waits for me to nod for him to continue. “The fact that you gave up your baby for a
doption, to a family that you didn’t even know where they lived, and a couple of years later you moved from Texas for college, and ended up forty minutes from where your son ended up. That’s just … insane. It’s like you were drawn to him.”

  “Yeah, it’s like I was … That’s crazy.” I shake my head. The screen starts to darken and my fingers dart out, swiping over the mouse pad to light it up again. “Do you think they’ll ever let me see him?”

  “I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “Do you want to message her?”

  I bite my lip. “I’m scared.”

  “I’m right here.”

  “What do I say?” Now that the opportunity is here I feel clueless. I don’t want to do this wrong.

  “Speak from the heart,” he tells me.

  I take the computer from him switch to my account before messaging Sarah.

  Dear Sarah,

  You have every right to exit out of this message and pretend it doesn’t exist. In fact, I wouldn’t blame you if you do that.

  I’m Novalee Clarke and four years ago, I was a scared fifteen-year-old kid, and I gave you your son—he’s a beautiful little boy, by the way.

  It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, and if I’m honest with you a closed adoption wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to be able to be a part of his life, even if I couldn’t be his mom, but there were other people in my life who didn’t think that was the best thing for them.

  I know you don’t owe me anything.

  I know you can block me, and pretend I don’t exist.

  I expect that.

  I understand that YOU are his mother now. I understand that he might not even know he’s adopted. That’s okay. I just want to see him. Even if you don’t let me meet him, if I could just see him, it would mean the world to me. You have no idea.

  Nova

  I click send on the message, squeaking as I do.

  I close his laptop and Jace wraps his arms around me. “You did it,” he murmurs, rubbing his thumb against my arm to soothe me.

  “I did it.”

  “I’m so proud of you.” He presses his lips to my forehead.

  “Why? It was just a message.” I sniffle, rubbing my face into his shirt.

  “I know, but it took a lot of guts for you to do that.”

  I burrow closer to him, seeking shelter in his embrace.

  “Confession,” I start, clearing my throat. I look up at him with wide eyes. “Sometimes I’m shocked that we got here. That we’re together. We both had every reason in the world to avoid relationships.”

  He kisses me. “It surprises me too, sometimes, that I can be this happy and content. I used to think a relationship was a burden, but it’s not. Being with you has made me a better man.”

  I straddle his lap and wrap my fingers around his neck. “You’re amazing,” I tell him. It’s true, though. He has no idea how remarkable he is. His dad has spent his whole life tearing him down, and now I want to build him back up—show him that he’s none of the things he always thought he was.

  “Am I?” He smiles crookedly, his hands skimming up my back, under my shirt. I nod. He presses his face into the crook of my neck. “You’re amazing too, you know.” His hands move around to my front, gliding up my stomach. He lightly grazes his fingers under the curves of my breasts.

  “W-What were we talking about?” I stutter, my eyes falling closed.

  He chuckles. “Nothing important.” He nips at my chin and I moan.

  “Jace.” I clutch at the back of his head. “I need—”

  “I know what you need.”

  He lifts my shirt over my head and his eyes rake over my body. I have the urge to cover myself, but I know that will only make him mad, so I let him look.

  “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, before capturing my lips in his. The kiss is bruising and rough, but I expect nothing less from him anymore. His fingers delve into my hair at the nape of my neck, tugging my head back.

  My hips roll against his, and I claw at his shirt.

  The last few days we’ve barely touched each other, because we’ve been so busy with school, work, and looking for my son.

  Jace breaks the kiss and I sit back so he can pull his shirt off. His hair is a mess and his eyes are wild.

  I trace my finger down the center of his chest and around his abdominal muscles. His hips jerk, and I grin, biting down on my lip.

  “That was mean,” he says, his voice choked.

  I skim my finger back up his chest and he captures my hand, pressing the palm flat against his heart. I feel it thumping madly beneath his heated skin.

  Before I can blink he grabs me and flips me onto the couch. He hooks his fingers into my pajama pants and underwear and yanks them down forcefully.

  “Now who’s the mean one?” I joke.

  He doesn’t answer me. He lowers his mouth, swirling his tongue around each of my nipples. My back bows off the couch, my hips seeking his.

  I reach blindly for his jeans and manage to find the belt. I make quick work of undoing it.

  He chuckles. “Eager, are we?”

  “Yes,” I pant, my lips seeking his.

  There’s no point in lying. I’m desperate to touch him. It’s been days, and I need him. My body craves him like a drug.

  He sucks on the spot where my neck meets my shoulders and then his lips glide down between my breasts, over my stomach, before he sits back on his knees and gazes down at me. I know I’m flushed, and my hair’s probably a mess, but I don’t care, because the way he looks at me always makes me feel beautiful.

  He pops the button on his jeans and slides the zipper down.

  My pulse jumps in my throat and his eyes trace the movement, his lips tipped in the slightest little smirk.

  He stands and steps out his jeans before returning to his previous position, knelt between my legs on the couch.

  I stare at him as he grips his cock, stroking his hand slowly up and down his length.

  “You like that?” he asks. “You like watching me touch myself?” I swallow thickly and nod. He grins. “God, you’re fucking perfect.”

  He guides himself to my entrance and pushes in.

  “Oh, my God,” I cry out, my hips lifting off the couch. He presses a hand to my stomach, pushing me back down. I whimper.

  “Shh.” He presses a finger to my lips. “Relax.”

  I close my eyes for a moment, and he slips out the slightest bit before slamming back in.

  “Jace,” I moan, my eyes popping back open.

  He flicks his hair from his eyes, which flame a vibrant green.

  The muscles in his stomach flex as he moves his hips and mine rise to meet his.

  He kisses me, stealing what’s left of my breath.

  He murmurs something into my hair that I can’t quite decipher, but it sounds a lot like, “Made for me.”

  I rake my nails down his back, urging him closer to me. His chest presses into my breasts, and his arms rest on the narrow space of couch beside my head.

  He grasps my chin and tilts my head back, pressing his lips to my throat.

  My hips jolt when his fingers find my clit, and an orgasm hits me so powerful that my legs shake and my eyes rolls back into my head.

  He pumps into me a couple more times before his own orgasm hits. He collapses on top of me, careful to hold his weight, and we both struggle to regain our breath.

  After a minute, he pulls out and goes to clean up. I can barely move so I just lie there.

  He comes back and stands over me with a chuckle. “Can’t move?”

  “No,” I answer, blinking up at him.

  He scoops me up into his arms and I laugh as he carries me to bed. He drops me down onto the soft mattress and climbs in behind me, pulling the blankets over us.

  I burrow close to his warmth and fall to sleep with a smile on my face.

  Nova

  The laptop taunts me where it rests on the coffee table. I itch to check it for a message from Sarah, but I’m t
errified that there’s nothing, or that she’s telling me to stay far away from her son and that I can never see him. Honestly, it’s the answer I’m expecting. She’s his mom now, so she has every right to be leery of me stepping back into his life. I’d never expect to replace her, but it’s a tricky situation all around.

  “Hey, you’re up.” Jace smiles from the kitchen, making scrambled eggs.

  He wears his glasses, which makes him look like a hot nerd.

  I smile back and slide into the barstool. Just being near him makes me feel a little more at ease.

  “That smells delicious,” I comment.

  He pushes the eggs around the pan and grabs a mug, already filled with coffee, and hands it to me.

  “You’re a saint,” I tell him. I inhale the heavenly scent of the coffee and take a sip. Before I know it, I’ve downed half the cup.

  He finishes with the eggs and scoops them out onto two plates, along with buttered toast. He places one of the plates in front of me and refills my coffee before sitting down beside me.

  I scoop some eggs onto a piece of toast and take a bite.

  “Are you working tonight?” I ask him.

  He sighs. “Yeah, unfortunately.”

  “We’re supposed to meet everyone for lunch today, right? That is today?” I glance at the dry erase calendar on the wall, trying to remember what day it is. Since I’ve been out of school for the holidays it’s been hard to keep track of the days. Not to mention my focus has been primarily on searching for my son.

  Greyson.

  I can’t believe I finally know his name.

  It feels strange and amazing all at once.

  “Yeah, it’s today.” He attacks his plate of food like someone’s going to steal it from him. Someone clearly worked up an appetite.

  “I’m seriously the worst friend ever. I can’t keep up with things.”

  Jace cracks a smile. “You’ve had a lot on your mind. It’s understandable. Everything will die down soon.”

  I take another bite of toast. “Have you …”

  “Looked at the computer?” He finishes for me, and I nod. “No,” he answers.

  I sigh. “I want to look, but I’m scared to know.”