Chapter Nineteen Emma Baldwin #2
I don’t know how he does it, how he makes me smile when my heart is dying. But a small piece of me begins to heal. He leans in, his breath warm against my ear. “You’re my anchor,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my cheek. “No matter what happens, I’m with you.” My heart squeezes at his promise.
We spend the night in a rented room in a Black-owned boardinghouse because no hotel would rent rooms to Black people in this time and place.
But the world’s racism doesn’t burn me tonight.
We talk until dawn, our secrets merging into slurred whispers until exhaustion takes over and we drift into sleep.
Hours later, Malcolm and I are still united in 1903 Georgia. Our fingers intertwine as the sun sets in a brilliant blue sky with golden streaks and we stand on emerald blades of grass. In the distance, an elegant white gazebo catches my eye.
I feel like a Southern belle in my crystal-adorned lace bodice.
Malcolm glances at my tightly cinched waist, his eyes running over me and down to my skirt cascading in waves of purple silk.
We talk from sunrise to sunset, sharing our stories and our dreams, and it feels like I’ve been gazing into his hazel eyes for years.
My feelings for him get deeper with each breath. With every moment we share.
My dress shimmers in the moonlight. Diamond stars glitter against the blue velvet curtain of the sky. Malcolm and I walk until our toes are cradled by the soft grass where the water kisses the lakeshore. The scent of jasmine and the bright blue glow of fireflies surround us.
“It’s beautiful, huh?” Malcolm’s voice is soft and full of awe. As we stand by the lake, his fingers trace circles on my back, sending shivers up my spine. The buttons of his crisp white shirt are partly undone, showing the chiseled lines and hard curves of his chest.
I lick my dry lips and look away.
He’s dangerous …
The moonlight paints his smooth brown skin with a silvery glow, his eyes reflecting the stars.
When he smiles, the world seems to fade away, leaving just the two of us in a cocoon of devotion and determination.
If I’m not careful, those hazel eyes with those long lashes will grab mine and hold them for eternity.
Malcolm promised to make me smile and forget my problems. So far, he’s delivered.
“Yeah,” I admit, my eyes on his chest. “It’s beautiful.”
My gown pools around my ankles, reflected in the glassy lake.
My dark hair frames my brown face, sloping eyes, and full nose.
I stand next to Malcolm’s proud form. He looks at his watch and then points to a gondola at the edge of the lake.
“Let’s go,” he says. My heart pulses when his fingers intertwine with mine again.
Fireflies dance in the air around us, blinking blue light.
Being far away from everyone and everything troubling me has set my spirit free.
And being with Malcolm makes every moment feel right.
It’s scary, thrilling, and perfect. We walk barefoot on a carpet of moss until we reach the boat.
Malcolm helps me inside. He rows gently across the glassy lake.
The water caresses the sides of the boat, creating ripples as we drift.
When he smiles, I glow inside, like candles on a birthday cake.
“Can I tell you a secret?” I ask.
“Tell me everything.”
“I’ve always dreamed of nights like this—being away from the circus, free of my family’s demands and expectations. To just … be.”
“To be…” He stops rowing, his thumb stroking the back of my hand. “With me?”
Blue dots of light from the fireflies are reflected on the still lake.
“Yeah.”
He grips the oar and makes soft waves on the still surface of the water again.
I whisper the truth like it’s a crime. “Especially with you.” In the beginning, I had thought I could use Malcolm as a tool or a resource to help me escape the Tether. But he’s so much more to me now.
“Your letters,” I confess to him, my heart fluttering like laundry in the wind. “They carried me through the fear, the training, our search. Your letters kept me going,” I add, my voice trembling. “Through all the darkness, they were my light.” He smiles, his eyes shining with emotion.
“And you’re my strength,” he replies. “Together, we’re unstoppable.”
I smile. “Good. Because spending time with you in person … Well, it makes me feel closer to you than anyone. I want to be unstoppable with you.”
The gondola floats gracefully beneath us, as I add, “Malcolm, I want to hide with you forever. Forget that stupid Tether and the problems we have, for all time.”
A smile bends his lips. “Since I first saw you, I knew…” He pauses, as if he’s wrestling the words inside his heart. “I tried to fight it, tried to put my family before my desire for you and just be the protector they wanted. But your smile … It defeats me every time.”
“Doubtful,” I tease, sitting near the back of the boat with my fingertips trailing in the water and a smile on my lips. I splash him.
I grin as he laughs wildly. It sounds like music, soothing my soul yet igniting the fire within me. A fire that could burn him alive … if I ever lose the battle against the cursed monster inside and let my dark impulses roar freely.
“You soaked my shirt,” he says, undoing the rest of the buttons and peeling it off in a way that looks.
Oh. So. Yummy. His chest is glistening, and his muscles curve so perfectly that part of me would love to kiss them.
But I’ve never done anything like that with a boy …
and I shouldn’t even think about it with a Davenport boy.
Those kisses would be a promise and a threat to us both.
“Why’d you do that?” he asks. He’s wearing dark jeans that are cut just low enough to show the sexy V that makes women imagine tracing it to where it leads. He pauses before asking, “Are you having any bad urges?”
“Not now,” I lie, not wanting to taint the moment.
But I can tell by his sad expression that he’s been battling violent compulsions too.
“That splash was a reminder”—I smirk, trying not to stare at his flawless abs—“that you’re lucky we’re ending this Tether.
” I bat my eyes, adding, “Because I would have killed you.”
“Probably.” He smiles. “Because you already took my heart.”
I splash water at him again, laughing as he pretends to be outraged. “You’ll pay for that,” he teases, pulling me close. Our laughter echoes in the night, distracting us from our dark reality.
Sudden movement catches my eye, and I freeze.
My gaze fixes on a massive raven perched atop a twisted branch stretching over the water like a bridge above us.
Its beady red eyes stab into me. My heart thunders, and my chest locks, making it hard to breathe.
Is this one of Sabine’s familiars? Has she found us?
“Malcolm!” I hiss, pointing at the massive black wings of the raven.
His face turns chalky brown when he sees the bird. The veins stand out on his arm muscles like rope as he rows, faster and faster. “Don’t worry,” he tells me, but his grip on the oars tightens until his knuckles look white. He knows that bird’s a bad omen, a sign that the witch is watching.
Malcolm steers us far away. He must sense how jittery and anxious I am, because he says, “It’s okay. I got you.” Fear has made his voice unsteady, and I realize that no matter how much we want to be free, we are not yet safe from the clutches of Sabine and her wicked game.
Malcolm takes a deep breath, his trembling hand reaching for mine. Uncertainty flickers in his eyes before he forces a smile. “Told you. I got you. I’ll do whatever’s necessary to try to keep you safe, Star.”
My heart swells. His desire to protect me after my family made me a punching bag makes my feelings for him run so much deeper. “Thanks,” I say.
The gondola slips along the serene water as Malcolm guides it with ease, his silhouette outlined by the glow of a silver moon. We pass a cluster of lily pads that holds croaking frogs.
“We’re here.” His voice is so soft I barely hear it over the lapping of the water against our boat. He parks the gondola, helping me up after securing the boat.
“Where?” I ask, looking around under stars that seem close enough to touch. I’m still nervous about the raven, but we’ve left it behind, so I try to let myself enjoy the time we have left. Save the stress for tomorrow.
“Right here, beautiful.” He smiles and extends his arm, pointing toward the bank where a row of skinny candles flicker on towering gold holders.
They stand beside Imani like a city skyline, making dancing shadows across her chestnut-brown face, black apron, and crisp white dress.
Her hair is half black and half white as it slinks down her back in a low ponytail that matches her outfit and accentuates the joy on her pretty face.
“Welcome,” Imani says, gesturing with a hand.
As she does, a beautifully decorated table, adorned with elegant silverware and long-stemmed crystal glasses that glitter like starlight, appears next to her.
Pink bubbly fills the glasses, accompanied by juicy strawberry slices.
The setting could belong in a royal banquet hall, but it’s here, on the edge of the glistening lake, making me feel like a princess.
“Wow. You outdid yourselves,” I gasp, stepping forward, the hem of my dress whispering against the grass.
“I want the best for you, Star,” Malcolm replies. I run my fingers along the white cloth, looking at the two plates that await the culinary wonders Imani has prepared.
“Thank you for this, for all of it.” I look at Malcolm, feeling an emotion I can’t quite name swelling in my chest. But it makes me want to hug him, feel his warm body close to mine. I look at Imani and ask, “Why’d you help him with this?”
Her dark lipstick looks flawless as she says, “My brother loves you. Like it or not, that makes you family.”
I beam.
Imani smirks. “If you knew how dysfunctional we are, you might not smile about that.” She laughs. “But seriously, I haven’t seen Malcolm this happy since before Dad and Alex died. I’m a sucker for love. And Black-boy joy. So I’ll do whatever I can to help my brother hold on to his.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course.”
“Will we be drinking fortune-telling tea again?”
“No need,” she says as we take our seats.
“I warned Malcolm that you could lead to rivers of blood. And that rockhead had the nerve to say he’s a good swimmer.
Since he won’t heed warnings, I figured I should at least do what I can to protect him.
I’ve seen countless paths for you both, countless conflicting possible futures, all leading to a headstone for one or both of you.
But there is one fragile chance … one possible future in which love wins.
And he’s so determined to make that happen that he made me determined too. ”
“How? Tell me,” I plead.
“Sorry.” Her fingers smooth her sleek black-and-white ponytail. She looks down, her lips forming a soft pout beneath her dark lipstick, her expression shadowed with sadness. “Your knowledge could change the future. That possibility might stop existing.”
A wave of grief splashes over me, my worry drowning me, but I’m also grateful for Imani’s support.
The moon paints a ghostly silver path across the water in front of us.
Malcolm and I sit beneath a canopy of weeping willow trees and twisted branches at our lakeside table.
The gentle tick of cicadas is the only sound we hear for a moment.
“It’s a beautiful night,” Imani says. “Don’t let fear for the future rob you of the present. Enjoy this moment.”
Low tree branches sway in the warm breeze. I close my eyes and inhale the scent of jasmine and magic that fills the air.
Imani loads our plates with candied yams, collard greens, bubbly golden-brown mac and cheese, and tiny Cornish hens.
“Thanks again,” I say. “Everything looks too pretty to eat!” But it smells so good, I can’t help myself from digging in. The flavors melt together like a symphony of delights in my mouth.
After dinner, she winces slightly and chants like the strain of the magic is painful.
A cloud of red glitter twists into the shape of Malcolm’s guitar.
It hovers in midair until he walks over and grabs it.
As I sit at the table in front of a small gold plate, digging into banana pudding with a cloud of fluffy whipped cream on top, he plays for me.
His fingers fly across the strings of his shimmering red guitar; bloodred smoke curls and twists from the instrument’s neck.
As I sway to his beautiful song, swirling smoke puffs all around us.
Sparkling gold music notes materialize, flashing and flickering like lightning bolts.
Malcolm sings me a love song that sends shivers down my spine in the best way.
The fire in his eyes and the passion in his voice make happy butterflies glow inside me.
He pours his heart and soul into his performance, the music notes coming from his guitar growing larger and brighter.
They keep expanding, flickering, and glowing gold.
And at the climax of his song, when his beautiful voice hits a high note that makes my knees weak and my body moist in secret places, the music notes float up and explode into the inky sky with a shower of metallic fireworks, their shimmery tails raining down in a dazzling display of melted gold above him.
“Wow!” I breathe. “You sure know how to take a girl’s mind off tragedy. I’m glad I came on this adventure with you.”
Malcolm smiles his beautiful, crooked smile. And my heart melts.
“Emma,” he says, “you’re the adventure, the inspiration for every love song I sing. Being with you is magic.”
I smile, but when I see Imani’s wide-eyed nervous gaze on a tree, it starts to drop. I was so into Malcolm that I almost forgot she was here. Her fingers shake. I follow her gaze and see a nosy raven perched in a weeping willow tree overhead. The raven’s piercing red eyes lock on us.
Malcolm’s jaw tightens. “Let’s go,” he says with fake confidence. His quaking hand grabs mine as I stand up. With wide-eyed fear, he says, “I’m bored with 1903.”
We race off into the night. I cling to his hand and hold on to the joy of the moment as if it could be our last.