Perfect Redemption

Seventeen: In Which He Discovers That She's Just Full Of Surprises

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[ J A X ' S P O V ]

There is someone outside the mansion.

    And not just anyone.

    A kid.

    He looks young—really young. About eight to nine years old. His dark curly hair falls over his face, covering his eyes, as he moves his head left to right, wondering if there's anyone here. I peer through the window, my eyebrows furrowed on confusion, as to why some kid is stranded on my front porch.

    The kid takes a deep breath, then rings the doorbell, his other hand clutching tightly to his red bag pack. He waits at the door impatiently, his lips pouting, his body bouncing on the balls of his feet. He stares down at his sneakers, then looks up at the door again, this time a frown falling on his lips when nobody comes to the door.

    Well, fuck me. Part of me feels bad for him, but what the hell am I supposed to do? I don't even know this boy. I'm supposed to let him in? What if he's a reporter in disguise? I can't take that chance. I can't.

    The press my face against the window, eager to see what the boy is going to do next. His gaze falls upon the windows, and I quickly duck behind the curtains so that he won't see me. I'm hoping that this boy won't call me out—

    "I know you're in there!" The boy yells. "Blaire? Is that you?"

    Blaire? This boy knows Blaire?

    I tell myself not to peek through the window for another glance so I wait it out. I hear the boy knock roughly on the door repeatedly and I groan. He's not going to give up, is he? That stubborn little shit.

    Cursing, I trudge to the door, unlocking the latch and flinging it open. As I expected, the boy is still standing there, this time looking real a bit irritated. He crosses his arms over his chest, and he pouts when I greet him.

    "What do you want kid?" I snap. I can't help it—I'm feeling really agitated this morning and it might be due to what happened last night with Blaire.

    The kid tilts his head and his eyes immediately light up. I do that to a lot of people—this boy is no different. The adoration in his eyes is clearly evident.

    His arms fall to his sides and an excited grin falls on his face.

    "Are you Jax Deneris?" He asks.

    "Yeah. But who are you?" I ask, arching a curious eyebrow.

    "Oh my god!" He starts to jump up and down. "My sister told me about you. You're him! That's so cool. I've never met a celebrity before. Okay, that's not true, I met your dad, Baxton once, when my dad was still alive and was friends with him—"

    "Whoa, boy. Calm down." I say. "Who are you again?"

    "I'm Eden." He sticks his hand out for me to shake. He beams at me, teeth showing. I don't return the smile, though I shake his hand hesitantly, still trying to figure out why he's here. "I'm Blaire's brother."

    "What? Blaire doesn't have a brother." I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning against the doorframe. "Don't lie to me, kid."

    "I'm not lying to you." Eden's smile fades from his face. "I'm her brother. Eden Sullivan. My dad—sorry, adoptive dad—dropped me off here because we're supposed to spend the weekend together. That's kind of our arrangement. Is Blaire here? She'll tell you. I'm not sure if she knows I'm coming over, though. She's usually supposed to come to my house to pick me up but my adoptive mom had some emergency she had to deal with and she already texted Blaire that I was going to come over early today..."