Fated Series. Book #2
"Be possessive of me, own me, keep me, because if you do then nothing and no one else can." - Maddox.
My name is Maddox Vallero, and I'm dead.
Well, that's not quite true. I'm alive in the breathing, walking, talking sense-but...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Chapter 20 A living Spark Maddox
"Max, where does this go?"
Jax held up the seventeenth Lego piece, his little fingers wobbling under its weight like it was a crucial cornerstone of our masterpiece. I nearly laughed, feeling like I was being used. Either he didn't quite grasp the concept of Legos yet, or he just wasn't trying too hard.
And yet, every time his dimples carved into his chubby cheeks and his blue eyes lit up with excitement, I found myself not giving a single damn.
"Right there, little man," I said, pointing to a gap in the growing structure.
With the kind of intensity that only a four-year-old could muster, Jax pushed the piece into place, his tiny hands straining as if he were building the Eiffel Tower. The effort was ridiculous, but I couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips.
This was my Thursday afternoon: sitting cross-legged on the floor of Sophia's living room, Jax nestled between my legs, and a Lego set I'd brought sprawled out in front of us. I was supposed to be at work right now—in a conference room, to be exact, drowning in a finance meeting where I'd explain, yet again, why the company's operating systems needed a complete overhaul.
Instead, I was here.
I shouldn't be here. I knew that. But as I glanced down at Jax, his face a mask of concentration as he reached for another piece, I knew I didn't care. I'd take this over a meeting any day.
"Where does this one go?" Jax twisted around to show me another red block, his wide eyes filled with anticipation.
I pointed to another spot on the half-finished structure. "Right here."
Jax grinned, his tiny hands trembling as he clicked the Lego into place with a satisfying snap.
And just like that, I felt something stir in my chest—a warm, steady pull I hadn't felt in years. I shouldn't be getting attached to him. I was fully aware of how reckless that was. I wasn't stable—not yet. Not with my head still a tangled mess of unresolved shit that no amount of therapy is going to fix.
But none of that seemed to matter when Jax looked at me like that, his face so full of trust and joy, like I was the best thing in his world at that moment.
He didn't know the pain he'd narrowly escaped—what loneliness and fear could have done to him if Sophia hadn't stepped in. If she hadn't loved him with every ounce of her heart. Those early memories—the ones that could've torn him apart—would fade soon enough, replaced by better ones. Happier ones. He'd grow up and look back at his life, and all he'd see was love.
And I wanted to be part of that.
When Jax turned to me again, another Lego in his hands, something fierce and unshakable gripped me. I would fight for this kid—for his smile, his innocence, his happiness. I'd build walls, create armies, bleed myself dry if it meant he never had to feel the weight of this world.