Page 59 of Saving Sparrow
Smoothing my hands over the shirt and jeans I put on, I ventured to the stairs.
At the bottom of the landing, I panicked when I faced the direction I’d gone in with Joshua. The unsteady banister shook beneath my tight grasp on it. I squeezed my eyes shut, unsure of where to turn, but not wanting to go that way again. I couldn’t handle facing Sparrow’s wrath if I were wrong.
I recalled the rooms Joshua and I passed on our way to the basement door. None of them seemed to be in use. With that in mind, I turned left.
The smell of something hearty hit my nose, and my stomach cramped. I picked up my pace, my hunger overriding my need for caution.
The old-world style kitchen came into view after turning a corner, the ornate mahogany cabinets sparkling as if recently polished. I stopped short at finding Sparrow hovering over a stockpot, stirring its steamy contents with a long wooden spoon. Elliott couldn’t cook, not well anyway. Something else that made him and Sparrow completely different.
He set the spoon on a dish off to the side. The voice in my head shouted for me to announce my presence, warned that Sparrow catching me watching him would trigger his rage. But there was somethingabout seeing him be domestic, something about the way his shoulders hunched, and the way he sighed before hanging his head that made him seem… human. I wasn’t ready to give up this version of him. Not yet.
Sparrow rubbed at his nape, and seeing his long, delicate fingers do something other than torment me warmed my heart. He stretched his neck from side to side, the movement causing the end of his braid to brush across his back. The combination of it all softened him, and I wondered if his hard stare had softened too.
The ring of keys situated firmly at his hip served as a reminder of who he was, and what he’d do if he knew I’d witnessed this vulnerable moment.
As much as it hurt me to do so, I retreated around the corner, coughing loudly before re-entering the kitchen.
Sparrow stood with his spine straight, the exhaustion in his eyes nearly eclipsed by the invisible walls guarding them. Did he sacrifice sleep so that Joshua could play? Who else did he sacrifice for? Who else was he protecting in this house?
“You said to meet you here.” I wondered if maybe I’d misheard him because he didn’t look pleased to see me. I folded my bandaged hands behind my back, then thought better of it before clearing my sore throat and letting them fall to my sides. “I can go back up if—”
“Sit,” he ordered. I looked at the stools at the island, then through the archway into the dining room. I took a gamble and headed for the dining room.
The two place settings situated across from each other made it easier to determine which of the twelve seats I should take. I chose the one facing the rotting china cabinet. It provided a partial view of the kitchen.
Scooting my chair under the table, I held my hands in my lap, not wanting Sparrow to see them shake. He cleared the archway, carrying two steaming bowls. He placed one in front of me before taking his seat.
Sparrow watched me with a displeased expression when I made no move to eat. I willed my hands to still before removing my silverware from the cloth napkin and stirring the stew with my spoon.
I blew on a piece of beef before bringing it to my mouth. I considered that he could be poisoning me for a brief second before taking a bite,deciding I was too hungry to care. Having an appetite at all proved my body’s need for food outweighed my anxiety.
“It’s good,” I said, resisting the urge to grab the bowl with both hands and drink straight from it. “When did you learn how to cook?”
Sparrow ignored my question, spreading his napkin over his lap before leaning over his bowl. He scooped up a spoonful of stew but stopped before it reached his lips. He flicked his eyes up, catching me gawking at him. I guessed something as simple as his eating shocked me, too. It was hard to imagine the same thing that sustained me, sustained him, that without food and water, he wouldn’t survive. It seemed his level of cruelty should operate on batteries or immortality alone.
Would I also find out that he had a heart?
As if sensing he’d be revealing a fatal flaw, he leaned back, pushing the bowl away. Sparrow didn’t realizethatrevealed more to me than eating ever would. He cared about what I thought. He cared about my impression of him, as hard to believe as that was while my body throbbed from all he’d done to me. Maybe he wanted those thoughts and impressions to center around fearing him.
I ate a few more bites of meat before coming up for air. “Why did you ask me down here?” I was going to ask why he’d invited me to dinner, why he’d cooked this delicious meal for me. But that would’ve implied he’d done something kind for me, something beyond ensuring I stayed alive long enough to get what he wanted from me. In some weird way, it all felt like an apology. But I didn’t think pointing that out would’ve gone over well.
“What did he tell you?” He was all business. I’d been about to ask who and when, but figured the matter of Joshua would’ve been more important to him than Elliott or Quentin.
“You don’t know?” I assumed he likely didn’t, given my exploration with Joshua. The little I’d read about gatekeepers suggested he should have, though.
“What. Did. He. Tell. You?” Sparrow hated being questioned.
“Tell me why you don’t already know first.” I don’t know where my boldness came from, but I wanted to understand what level of consciousness they shared. I needed to remember I had leverage here as well,even if my bruises stated otherwise. He wanted something from me, or I’d be dead.
“I should have.” It didn’t please him to admit that. His jaw hardened, but he remained seated, keeping his hands off me.
I nodded as though his answer made perfect sense to me when it didn’t. It was an answer, though. A small win.
“Nothing, really. He’d been happy and then… That’s all, really.” I didn’t want to say Joshua was scared. Something told me Sparrow wouldn’t have enjoyed hearing that I knew what fear looked like on him, even if he wasn’t himself at the time.
“His fire engine came apart. He asked me to fix it. So I did.”
Sparrow narrowed his eyes. “What else did he say to you?”
