(19) Longing For Her

"Give me that." Baron unceremoniously grabbed the drink from the adult's hand, trying to escape the situation as quickly as possible.

His fingers curled around the cold box, and he was already calculating the fastest route to the door.

But Lucas's hand shot out, grabbing the back of his jacket before he could get far.

"Hey!" Baron yelped, stumbling backward.

"Why are you out here at this hour?" Lucas immediately interrogated, his voice carrying an authority that made Baron bristle.

The man's eyes swept over him with an intensity that felt invasive, cataloging every detail, the rumpled clothes, the broken tablet clutched under his arm, the dark circles that had taken up permanent residence beneath his eyes.

Baron recognized something flickering across Lucas's face.

Recognition.

The man still knew him, and still saw Charity's features mapped across his young face. Baron was Charity's most precious thing, the legacy she had left behind, and Lucas's gaze softened almost imperceptibly at the thought.

But Baron had learned from his mother's acting. He knew how to draw attention, how to turn a situation to his advantage.

"Helpp!" The boy suddenly shouted, his voice piercing through the quiet convenience store like a siren.

The few people browsing the aisles turned to look at them, an elderly woman with a basket of groceries, a teenager scrolling through her phone near the refrigerated section, the cashier whose hand froze mid-reach for a pack of gum.

Lucas let out a nervous laugh, his composure cracking as he swept Baron up into his arms. The boy's face was suddenly pressed against Lucas's chest, muffling any incoming screams against the fabric of his jacket.

"He just wants a chocolate drink," Lucas called out to the concerned onlookers, his voice strained with forced cheerfulness. His grip was firm but not painful, and Baron could feel the rapid thrum of his heartbeat beneath his ear. "You know how kids are. Tantrums over the silliest things."

The elderly woman offered a sympathetic smile and returned to her shopping. The teenager shrugged and went back to her phone. The cashier's hand resumed its journey to the gum.

Baron glared at him, the expression so reminiscent of Charity that it made Lucas's heart itch with an old, familiar ache. Those eyes, the same shade of the ocean, the same defiant spark that had once made Charity impossible to ignore.

Still, Lucas dismissed it, swiping his card at the scanner to pay for the drink Baron kept clutching like a lifeline. The machine beeped its approval, and Lucas dragged the boy out to his car, one hand still firmly gripping the back of his jacket.

The night air hit them as they stepped outside, cool and wafting with the scent of rain that hadn't quite arrived.

Lucas's car sat under a flickering streetlight, a sleek black sedan that looked out of place in this modest neighborhood. He opened the passenger door but seemed to think better of it, instead opening the back door and gesturing for Baron to climb in.

Baron hesitated, studying the man with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"I remember you," they both said simultaneously.

Baron's frown deepened.

"I remember you," he repeated, but this time it was an accusation. "You're that scary old man."

Lucas's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "Get in the car, Baron."

"I'm not a dog," Baron muttered, but he climbed in anyway, settling into the leather seat with all the dignity a seven-year-old could muster. The door closed with a solid thunk, and Lucas walked around to the driver's side.

The engine purred to life, and Lucas gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled intensity. In the rearview mirror, Baron looked impossibly small, drowning in the vastness of the backseat. The chocolate drink was pressed against his chest, and his broken tablet lay beside him like a wounded animal.

"Look, you need to go back home." Lucas's voice carried the tone of someone who wasn't used to being disobeyed.

It was a tone that had been cultivated through years of managing people, through the careful cultivation of power and influence.

"Where are you taking me?"

Baron's voice carried a note of panic, his small hands trembling slightly. The bravado he'd shown in the convenience store was crumbling, revealing the frightened child beneath.

"Police station." Lucas's response was nonchalant, but his eyes kept flicking to the boy in the rearview mirror. He was watching, assessing the expression that crossed Baron's face.

Baron stayed in his place, solemnly sipping at the chocolate drink as if drawing comfort from its sweetness. He kept stealing glances at Lucas, studying the man who had once tried to intimidate him.

The streetlights painted stripes of gold and shadow across Lucas's face as he drove. His jaw was set, his brow furrowed in concentration. He looked like a man carrying the weight and experience of seeing through every person approaching him.

"I don't want to go home," Baron finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"And why is that?" Lucas asked, his tone softening despite himself. The authoritative edge was gone, replaced by something closer to concern.

Baron stared at the broken screen of his gadget, the cracks refracting the dim light of the car's interior. His eyes rimmed red as tears threatened to fall, but he held them back with sheer force of will.

"Well..." He swallowed hard. "I hate them."

The confession hung in the air between them, honest and unvarnished.

Baron waited for the inevitable lecture that he shouldn't say such things, that he should be grateful, that family was everything.

Adults always said those things, and Baron had learned to nod along while keeping his true feelings locked away.

But Lucas didn't lecture him

Lucas looked at him meaningfully, understanding immediately that the boy was referring to Violet and Samuel. He sighed, a heavy sound that carried the weight of complicated history. His fingers drummed against the steering wheel as he considered something.

Without a word, he suddenly made a turn, taking them in a different direction entirely.

Baron sat up straighter. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," Lucas said, and there was something almost gentle in his voice.

Charity was reading the script in the living room. Her hair was tied back in a messy bun, and she'd changed into comfortable clothes, soft gray sweatpants and an oversized sweater that had seen better days.

The script was spread across her lap, covered in handwritten notes in the margins. She wanted to make sure Violet wouldn't sabotage her again tomorrow or in any future takes.

The door clicked open, and she looked towards it.

Charity's eyes widened a bit to see Baron walking in with Lucas. He left a while ago to purchase some snacks on a whim since Paige was unresponsive on call. She didn't expect he'd come back with Baron!

"Hi." Baron shyly waved at Charity, this time with more restraint.

Their first and last meeting had him thinking thoroughly about his actions. He'd been brash, demanding, and Charity had looked so distant that the memory of it still made his stomach twist with shame.

"Baron?" She called out hesitantly, making sure she was seeing the same person.

Her mind raced through a dozen possibilities, had something happened?

"Met him downtown." Lucas slightly pushed the boy forward, and he received a glare instead. Lucas raised an eyebrow. "At least some thanks?"

"...Thanks." Baron half-heartedly said, his eyes not quite meeting Lucas's. The word tasted strange in his mouth, like something he wasn't used to saying.

"Why, why are you outside again? Where are your parents?" Charity asked even though she felt a pang in her chest. She is his mother but she can't even call herself his parent.

The title belonged to Violet now, by law and by circumstance, and Charity had to swallow the bitterness that rose with every reminder.

Baron moved under Lucas's watchful eyes. He sat on the couch next to Charity, still hugging the broken tablet. The leather creaked beneath him, and he settled into the cushions as if he'd been sitting there his whole life.

"I ran away from home. I don't want to stay there..." Baron opened up easily towards Charity. The words tumbled out like water from a broken dam, and he couldn't stop them if he tried. "Violet..she's...and my father, he.."

He stopped, unable to articulate the tangled mess of emotions that churned in his chest.