Page 98 of Home Safe

“It’s perfect.”

Chapter forty

Griffin

DANAE

I’m back at my house. Samantha dropped me off before she went to meet her friend.

ME

How’d the tattoo turn out?

DANAE

It’s perfectly adorable. And she told me about why she was getting it.

ME

Oh yeah? I still need to hear the full explanation.

DANAE

It’s definitely something you should ask her about. Work your winsome magic on her. I think it will be a bigger conversation.

ME

Will do. Jason and I should be back to your place in about 20minutes.

DANAE

Drive safe.

“This was the best day ever,” Jason says. “Well,maybeit was the best day ever. I don’t know. Coming to spring training was pretty awesome. But so was sitting in the suite to watch the games with your dad. But also that day that Mom and I played cards and Legos at home was pretty nice too. I’m gonna have to think about which one was best.”

I stifle a chuckle at how seriously he’s taking this ranking of his favorite days. I also rub a hand over my chest, feeling a tightness there in response to him listing off so many good days he’s had since moving in with Danae. Iknowit’s not this simple, that his problems aren’t all magically fixed just because Danae loves him. But it sure moves the needle.

Danae must have been watching out the window because I see her come out her front door from across the parking lot. As Jason hops down out of the Jeep, I give him a fist bump. “Thanks for going to the park with me and throwing the ball around. This was a super fun day, Jase.”

The way his face morphs from utter delight into a mask of simmering rage is something that will haunt my dreams for the foreseeable future.

Jason’s eyes are suddenly shuttered with an almost inhuman filter. His lips turn down into an angry frown, and his fists clench into tiny, tight balls.

“That’s not my name.” His voice is eerie—deep and quiet. But his volume rapidly rises as he screams at me, “You only call me Fireball or Jason. YOU DON’T CALL ME THAT!”

He pivots on a heel and sprints across the parking lot toward the house, not pausing to check for cars. Reflexively, I run after him, leaving the door to my Jeep wide open. Thank goodness, the parkinglot is clear, and Jason makes it safely to the sidewalk leading up to the house. He runs right past Danae, and her head whips to me, utterly confused.

“What just happened?” she asks as I run up to her.

“I don’t know. I called him ‘Jase’ and he suddenly got really upset,” I say.

The look of terror that transforms Danae’s facial features is another sight to haunt my dreams. As quickly as Jason, she turns to the townhouse and starts sprinting inside, so I chase after her.

“What is it?” I ask.

“His father used to call him ‘Jase’ on their good days. He doesn’t want anyone calling him that,” she explains as we tear through the front door.

I thought I had seen just about all there was to see from kids experiencing trauma responses. But still, I’m not at all prepared for the sight before me, of this kid I’ve grown to love absolutely losing his mind in rage.

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