Songbird

Chapter 10 ~ Contract

His body was trying to wake up. Only for a moment, distant yet familiar voices could be heard...

"Hang in there, Jace..."

"Craton must have put Javelin up to this, made him use that knife—"

"Shut up and help me, Devin, he's still bleeding!"

The blackness shrouded his vision again...

Age ten. Jace came home from school to a quiet apartment. His mother should be home; her shift at the local café was probably finished by now. Jace thought happily about his mother's new job. She had quit being a prostitute on the streets in order to give him a better life, and now she came home with interesting stories about her customers. Maybe today she would tell him another about the frightening man with the glass eye or the woman with the redheaded triplets.

"Mom, I'm here!"

No answer. That was strange, thought Jace. He trekked through the tiny, rather dingy apartment, looking into the rooms and calling her name. He thought for sure she had said her shift ended at 4 o'clock today.

At the end of the hall, her bedroom door was cracked open. Jace felt something was wrong instantly. His heart thudded loudly against his chest, and his instincts told him not to go in. But he had to.

She was lying there, face down on the floor, her limbs sprawled out in odd shapes, her dark hair spread out in a fan. Blood was beneath her, staining the carpet, staining Jace's eyes. He couldn't look away, but he couldn't approach her, either. Frozen. Even time had stopped. The red everywhere, Jace couldn't stop seeing the red...

Age twelve. Three terrible, abusive foster homes later, Jace had finally had enough. He snuck through his bedroom window, never to return.

He loved school, so he still attended regularly, even though the bullying was heavy. As scrawny, nerdy kid who wore the same clothes every day... the bullies flocked to him. Jace took it upon himself to go to the gym after school, training against the huge, weighted punching bags that barely moved when he hit. In his mind were the bullies' faces and how good it would feel to make them stop their tormenting...

This was where Tim Henshaw first saw the boy. It was Tim's gym, after all. After questioning the scrawny kid, Tim learned he was homeless. Tim took in Jace as his own from that day on, helping him learn how to really fight.

The bullies sure didn't mess with Jace after he was finally able to put his fighting to use...

Age fourteen. Tim was a father-figure to Jace now. Tim had originally thought about returning Jace to wherever he came from, but as the days turned into years, Tim never brought Jace back.

One normal spring day, Tim got called into the school. He came to the principle's office and saw Jace sitting on one of the hard, wooden chairs. Three boys were sitting next to him, bloody and bruised and pouting. Jace had not a scratch on him.

Tim walked his young Jace out. "Do I want to know what happened?" he asked the boy gruffly.

Jace didn't make eye contact but said simply, "I won."

Tim had to hide his smile. "You shouldn't fight anyone who is obviously going to lose. It's unfair."

"But they were—"

"I don't care." A pause. "Those boys didn't stand a chance against you, anyway, did they?"

"No."

"Good."

Age fifteen. Jace was approached in the gym by a strange man in a suit. He introduced himself as Mr. Bishops, and he had a proposal for the young Jace.