Because I Love You

by Tori Rigby

  CHAPTER ONE

  TODAY—THE NEW WORLD: JUST OUTSIDE RICHMOND, VA

  The carver’s joints ached as he nurtured a piece of oak with his old paring knife. The ivory handle, cool to the touch, was always a treat for Pino’s fingers. Soon, he would get to coat his figurine with a palette of beige, scarlet, and splashes of azure.

  He sometimes carved with his eyes closed, letting the memory of Crescenzo’s laughter wash over him. Those joyful snickers and loud appreciative chuckles had once been music to his ears. The carver wanted nothing more than to bring his son’s joy back. After the boy lost his mother and his best friend, it seemed he was only capable of anger.

  “Another toy, Dad?” There it was again. Crescenzo’s constant irritation. He didn’t bother to look up from his phone anymore. “How many of those stupid things are you gonna give me before you realize I don’t want any more? I’m not four.”

  Pino hoisted himself out of his chair, his knees crackling and the bones rattling in his back. He set his piece of oak down and rubbed out a crick in his neck. He knew quite well: My son is not four years old. He laid his hands on Crescenzo’s shoulders and kissed him on the forehead. Without looking up, Crescenzo wiped his face with his sleeve.

  “You grew up too fast, my boy. But you’re still my son. And these are very special figurines. You’d do well to take care of them.”

  Crescenzo’s fingers flew across the screen of his phone. “Yeah, whatever. They’re toys.”

  “You used to like toys, you know. You’d spend hours and hours playing with your figurines and building Lego houses for them. You’re only fifteen, son. You’re allowed to have some fun! Who says you have to grow up?”

  “The world says grow up, Dad.” For the first time, Crescenzo looked up, and Pino’s heart sank. There used to be a warm light in Crescenzo’s eyes. A firefly, Carla used to call it. Since Carla disappeared, the light changed. It was still there, but it had lost some radiance. “And the world stopped being fun once Mom disappeared.”

  Pino sighed and slumped down on the couch next to his son. He could feel, almost hear, the crick-crack-click in his bones as he settled. Darn joints. “You still don’t believe she’ll be back?”

  Crescenzo clicked off his phone. “No! I don’t think she’ll be back! And you do after all this time? After almost three years?”

  “I’ve told you, something tells me we haven’t seen the last of your mother. She’s a strong woman if I ever knew one. She’s got a whale of a heart.”

  “That’s stupid. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Unless you have hard evidence that she’s still alive, you’re being an idiot. Every day that you sit there and make your toys, thinking Mom’s just gonna walk in with an armful of groceries or something, you’re setting us up for disappointment.”

  Pino shook his head. “You think you know so much about this world—”

  “I know about disappointment, and I know this world sucks. And I know that anybody who can say this world is fun has never lost anything before. Did you even care about Mom?”

  Pino looked down. “My son. For you to think I don’t care . . . What have I done to make you think this way?”

  “What have you done? Nothing!” Crescenzo bounded off the couch and snatched a three-inch figurine off the coffee table. “You sit there every day since she disappeared, and you make these stupid toys! Come on, Dad. You’re so sure Mom’s okay; do something productive! Go get her back! Write her a letter! Or, I don’t know, tell me where to find her! But stop wasting your life sitting there carving wood, and stop giving me things meant for babies.”

  Pino crossed his arms defiantly. “A baby would swallow these things whole. I wouldn’t dream of trusting an infant with my figures.” He picked up his half-formed project. “And anyway, this one isn’t for you. It’s for Peter next door.”

  “You mean Pietro? Why would he want any of your toys? He’s a grown man.”

  Pino cracked his neck. “I don’t know how to explain that, Son. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

  Crescenzo groaned. “I hate that excuse! And you wonder why I don’t like to talk to you.”

  “So then tell me how to talk to you! You won’t talk about your mom, you won’t talk about your figures, you never want to talk about school . . . I give up. How do I have a relationship with my son?”

  “That’s the easiest thing ever,” Crescenzo said. “You don’t. Just leave me alone.”

  ~~

  Two weeks later, Pino put the finishing touches on his oak figurine. The whole process took him about six weeks: sketching, carving, smoothing the edges, detailing, and finally applying the paint. When he was done, he drank a glass of wine, put on a red baseball cap, and shuffled out the door with his small heroine in his palm. He whistled a jolly tune as he hobbled down the sidewalk and into his neighbor’s yard.

  Pietro used to keep his lawn fresh and green, but about a year ago, he surrendered it to a tangle of weeds and pond scum. Even the big stone fairy looked morose, cobwebbed, and muddy.

  Pino coughed into his sleeve, tipped his cap to the fairy statue, and stepped onto Pietro’s porch. The ground thumped with every step, each hollow knock of heel against wood bringing back a memory of his childhood.

  He rang the doorbell, and a minute later, Pietro appeared in his pajamas.

  Pino grinned. “Good morning, my friend!”

  Pietro yawned, stretched his lanky arms over his head, and rubbed his face. “Mornin’, neighbor. Come on in.”

  “Thanks. Did I wake you?” Pino stepped inside and removed his hat.

  “Naw, you know I barely sleep anymore. Coffee?”

  “Sure.” Pino looked around his friend’s house. Poor Pietro. Dirty dishes piled up in various corners. Neckties, wrinkled button downs, dark socks, and several pairs of khakis and slacks lay draped over the TV, mashed between couch cushions, and trampled into the floor. A black suit jacket collected dust on the coffee table. “Have you been, uh, going to work, Pietro?”

  Pietro ran his fingers through his sandy-colored hair. The Keurig machine sputtered and steamed. “Oh, yeah! Well, kinda. I work from home now. I talked to my supervisors, and they figured out a way for me to do most of my work over the phone, you know, email. I only have to show up in person on Tuesdays.”

  “Good for you, good for you,” Pino said. “And still no sign of Zack or Wendy?”

  Pietro shook his head, shoved a pair of black Nikes off a wicker chair, and gestured for Pino to sit down. “Not a clue. Nothing from Carla?”

  “Not yet. Poor Crescenzo’s lost all hope. I almost want to tell him the truth about everything . . . about Zack and Wendy. About us.”

  “We can’t. This is the new world, buddy. We wanted it. We got it. We still gotta follow the rules.” Pietro made a face, like the word tasted sour on his tongue.

  A longing sigh fluttered Pino’s lips. “Still, it doesn’t stop me from wishing things could’ve been different for my boy. Probably the worst heartache in the world is having to hide secrets from your kid.”

  “Well, try losing a kid.” Pietro poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Pino. “Then we can compare notes.”

  Pino stared apologetically into his coffee. “I’m sorry, Pietro. I didn’t mean—”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Pietro waved an arm. “Anyway, you have a plan, yeah?”

  “I do. And you already know it.” Pino held the wooden girl over Pietro’s lap. “But you’re going to have to trust me and take some time off work.”

  Pietro palmed the carving and studied it with childlike wonder. She looked so real, with the individual strands of her straight, dark hair, the subtle creases in her jeans, the wrinkles in her red hoodie, and the resolve in her green eyes.

  Pietro took a deep sip of coffee. “You still think this is the answer?”

  Pino nodded.

  After setting down the figurine, Pietro stood, picked up a pair of jeans, and shook them in the air. A tiny storm of lint trickled in the li
ght. “You get why I can’t do this, right?”

  “No. Why can’t you do this?”

  “Well, I can’t exactly abandon my job to go looking for toy models. We’re adults now.”

  “Remember what Violet said. You know these aren’t just toys. Isn’t it worth taking some time off work if it means you have the chance to save Wendy and Zack?”

  “Dude, I can’t afford to take time off anymore. You should know better than anyone how much I despise working, but if I take a vacation to follow a hunch from you . . .” Pietro sighed and tossed his jeans on the couch. “I just need to try to be more responsible. You get that, right?”

  Fighting back a laugh, Pino gestured around the room. “Is this responsibility? Look at this mess! I think a lot of people would beg to differ.”

  Pietro stared at his bare feet. “Rude.”

  “You know me these days.” Pino chuckled. “Brutally honest.”

  “That’s for sure. Man, being an adult sucks even worse than I always said it would. You fall in love, have kids, you think you’re happy, and then you lose everything.”

  Pino clutched Pietro’s shoulder. “That’s why I’m giving you a chance to save everything! These carvings are the key to putting everything back to normal. But my son’s right: They’re useless. They’re useless unless someone goes out and finds these people.”

  “Someone like me.” Comfortable silence hovered between the men, and Pietro chewed on his cheek.

  Pino sipped his coffee patiently.

  “You really think if I go find this girl you carved, I can bring Wendy and Zack back home?”

  “And Carla. And anybody else who might’ve disappeared since that night.”

  “Pinocchio, I wish I still knew how to tell if you were lying.”

  Pino shrugged.

  Pietro held the figurine up and ran a finger along its smooth edges. “So, where would you expect me to find her?”

  “Not here.”

  “Not helpful.” Pietro sighed.

  “It’ll do you some good to get out of the house,” Pino said. “Take Enzo. He doesn’t wanna be around me anyway, and he has fierce intuition. He got that from Carla, I think.”

  A rivulet of coffee trickled from Pietro’s lip as he failed to suppress a laugh. “Too bad he got your nose! Poor dude.”

  Pino scowled over his mug, then let his mouth curve into a smile. The old Pietro was coming back to the surface. “Anyway, you’ll go? Look for my wife and your family?”

  With a sigh, Pietro rubbed his face so hard his eyelids drooped. “Would you come with me?”

  Pino wiggled his thumb: click, click, click, click. “Do you not hear my joints crackling?”

  “Still?” Pietro rested his elbows on his knees. “What’s happening to you?”

  Pino lowered his voice. “My guess is there’s some real dark stuff goin’ on back home. After all, we’re not supposed to be here, and I was once a . . . Well, you know. I’m afraid I won’t get very far out the door, if I can even move anymore in a week.”

  Pietro drummed on his lap, shooting air through his teeth as he contemplated. “Fine. I’ll go. But I have a question. When do we tell Crescenzo who we really are?”

  “I trust you’ll figure it out, Peter.” Pino winked. “After all, you were the boy who learned how to fly.”

  coming soon from Blaze

  After a financial collapse devastates the United States, the new government imposes a tax on the nation’s most valuable resource—the children.

  Surrendered at age ten—after her parents could no longer afford her exorbitant fees—Vee Delancourt has spent six hard years at the Mills, alongside her twin, Oliver. With just a year to freedom, they do what they can to stay off the Master’s radar. But when Vee discovers unspeakable things happening to the younger girls in service, she has no choice but to take a stand—a decision that lands her on the run and outside the fence for the first time since the System robbed her of her liberty.

  Vee knows the Master will stop at nothing to prove he holds ultimate authority over the Surrendered. But when he makes a threat that goes beyond what even she considers possible, she accepts the aid of an unlikely group of allies. Problem is, with opposing factions gunning for the one thing that might save them all, Vee must find a way to turn oppression and desperation into hope and determination—or risk failing all the children and the brother she left behind.

  When an asteroid’s hurtling toward the earth, you should probably care—but Maia Graystone is too busy trying to survive the prison underworld where her cruel High-Colored mother has left her.

  All that changes when an enigmatic benefactor springs her from prison and offers her a spot in the Shadow Trials: the murderous games where the winners escape to the space station in the stars, along with the rest of the Emperor’s court. Winning means salvation, not just for Maia, but for her baby brother, Max.

  Salvation comes at a price though. Maia must be Reconstructed into Lady Everly March, a Silver of noble blood, who kills as easily as she curtsies. Paired with the gorgeous—yet psychopathic—Riser, a prisoner with his own dark secrets, Maia has to be doubly careful as she navigates the Emperor’s treacherous court and prepares for her first Trial. To survive, she’ll have to trust someone. The question is who?