Chapter 14
Chains POV?
I didn’t plan on becoming part of their routine. It just happened.
Tommy was easy to spot. He never hesitated, never filtered what he said, and didn’t care about personal space. Whenever I was outside, he showed up. Sometimes he asked questions, and other times he tried to talk me into letting him sit on my bike again.
Skylar was different, she was quiet and careful. She never just took up space; she always asked first, and when she did, it was important. Lately, she started bringing her sketchbook over without asking. It felt like she’d decided I was safe enough to share things with, and that meant more to me than I thought it would.
Today she came over fast, not her usual careful walk. Fast.
“Chains.”
Something in her voice made me turn immediately.
“What is it?”
“I can’t find it.” She looked around like the answer might be sitting in the grass.
“What can’t you find?”
“My sweater.” Her voice tightened. “The grey one.”
I knew which one she meant. It was the one she always said belonged to her dad. Her hands twisted together.
“I had it yesterday. I put it down somewhere, and now it’s gone.”
Her breathing changed. Quick. Unsteady. I crouched down to her level.
“Okay,” I said calmly. “We’ll find it.”
“It’s gone.”
“It’s not gone,” I said simply.
Her eyes flicked up to mine. That steadied her a little.
“Think with me,” I said. “Where did you last have it?”
She hesitated. “By the tree.”
“Then we start there.”
No drama, no panic. Just action. I stood and held out my hand, she took it right away. We walked slowly across the yard, not rushing her or making things worse. Just steady steps, the kind you take when something matters but isn’t gone for good.
We reached the tree at the edge of the yard. I crouched first, and looked under the low branches. Then I saw it, grey fabric, half tucked under the roots.
“Found it,” I said.
Skylar let out a sharp breath, like she’d been holding it for a long time. She hurried forward, grabbed the sweater, and hugged it to her chest as if it might disappear again.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
I nodded once. “No problem.”
She paused, then stepped forward and hugged me, her arms were small around my waist. The hug was quick and a bit uncertain, like she wasn’t sure if it was okay.
For a second, I froze, then I rested a hand on her back. I gave her a pat on the back. It was clumsy, but it was enough. When she pulled away, she looked up at me.
“I won’t lose it again,” she said quietly.
“I won’t let you,” I replied.
She gave me a faint smile. We walked back to the clubhouse together.
That’s when I saw them, Cleo and Stella.
They stood near the porch, watching but not interrupting. Skylar didn’t notice them. She was too focused on holding her sweater and feeling okay again.
Cleo’s expression shifted a little when she saw us. She didn’t look surprised, just more aware. It seemed like she was starting to understand what was happening, even though no one said a word.
Skylar slowed beside me. I crouched slightly so I could speak to her properly.
“Hey.”
She looked up. “What?”
I nodded toward the sweater. “Your dad isn’t in this,” I said softly.
Her grip tightened.
“But he’s still here,” I added. I tapped lightly over her chest. “Right here.”
Her eyes became still. I spoke gently. “No one can take his place. Not me. Not anyone, but I’ll be here if you need me.”
I nodded toward the clubhouse. “Same as your grandpa. Same as Uncle Roman.”
She listened, properly listened. Then nodded once, small and understanding more than she showed.
“Okay,” she said.
Then she turned and ran toward Tommy, like kids do when they’ve accepted something big and don’t want to think about it anymore.
I stood there for a moment longer than I meant to, then got up.
Cleo and Stella were still watching. Cleo hadn’t looked away, neither had Stella.
Stella was the first to speak softly. “She trusts you.”
I didn’t answer right away because I understood what that meant, and I didn’t take it lightly.
Cleo spoke more quietly. “She doesn’t trust easily.”
I nodded once. “I know.”
I did., that was the problem, because I didn’t trust easily either. But somehow, things were changing, and they were starting to trust .
******
Cleo POV
It had only been two months, but some days felt much longer. Other days went by too fast. Creek Wood does that to you. Sometimes time slows down, and other times it speeds up.
The kids had settled in faster than I expected. Faster than I thought was fair, honestly.
Tommy fit in as if he’d always been here. He followed Chains around like he belonged, which should have made me uneasy, but it didn’t. Chains never treated him like a bother. He never brushed him off or acted like he was in the way. He just answered, patiently, as if every question mattered.
Skylar was different. Skylar always was. She didn’t attach quickly. She observed first, then decided, and somehow, without either of us planning it, she had decided Chains was safe.
That was the only word I could think of: safe. Not familiar, not family, just safe.
I stood on the edge of the clubhouse yard watching them before I even realized I’d stopped walking. Tommy was sitting near Chains again, talking fast like he always did when he got excited. Chains was crouched slightly, listening properly. Not distracted. Not half-paying attention.
Fully there.
Skylar was nearby, too. Holding her sketchbook tight against her chest. That alone was unusual. She only held it like that when she was ready to show something. I watched her hesitate, then step forward.
“Chains.” His head turned immediately.
“What is it?” Her voice was tight.
“I can’t find it.”
Something in his posture changed instantly. Not panic. Control. Steady.
“What can’t you find?”
“My sweater.” Her fingers twisted together. “The grey one.”
I knew which one she meant. It was the one of her dad’s, the one she hardly ever took off. She treated it as if it were more important than anything else she owned. I saw her expression change before she spoke again.
“It’s gone,” she said quickly. “I had it yesterday, and now I can’t find it.”
Her breathing was changing. Quick. Uneven. Small, panicked breaths, she tried to hide until they got too big. Chains didn’t hesitate.
“Okay,” he said calmly. “We’ll find it.”
“It’s gone,” she repeated, more fragile now.
“It’s not gone,” he replied.
No pressure. No correction. Just certainty. I felt something tighten in my chest as I watched her. Not fear. Not jealousy.
Something quieter. Recognition. He crouched down so he was at her level. “Where did you last see it?”
She hesitated. “By the tree.”
“Then we start there.”
Simple. Like it wasn’t a crisis. Like it wasn’t going to overwhelm her. He stood and held out his hand. Skylar took it immediately because Chains had already become the person she could follow.
That surprised me. She didn’t hesitate. Didn’t question it. Just trusted him enough to follow.
I stayed where I was for a moment longer than I meant to, watching them walk. Watching how carefully he matched her pace without thinking. Not dragging her forward. Not rushing her out of her fear. Just walking beside her.
Tommy noticed me and waved wildly before running off again toward the bike. I didn’t stop him.
My attention stayed on Skylar, on Chains.
On the way, she kept glancing up at him like she was checking he was still there.
Still steady. They reached the tree at the far edge of the yard.
I watched them walk towards the tree, not intruding. Chains crouched first. Looked under the low branches. He moved the leaves gently with his hand.
Then he paused.
“I’ve got it.”
Skylar froze. Like she didn’t believe him, then she rushed forward, and I saw it.
Grey fabric, half hidden under the tree roots. Skylar grabbed it quickly, almost like she was afraid it would vanish if she blinked. She held it to her chest right away, as if it was part of her.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Chains nodded once. “No problem.”
She didn’t move away. Instead, she stepped forward and hugged him. Small, quick, a little unsure. It was like she was checking if it was okay to hug him.
Chains froze for a second. I saw it clearly, like he wasn’t used to being touched like that. Then his hand came up and gave a light pat on her back, careful, awkward, but gentle.
When she pulled away, she looked up at him.
“I won’t lose it again,” she said softly.
“I won’t let you,” he replied.
I felt something change inside me. It wasn’t dramatic or forced. It was just him.
Steady. Present.
They turned and walked back toward the clubhouse. Skylar was clutching her sweater tightly. Chains walking beside her like it was the most natural thing in the world.
That’s when I noticed mom and realized I wasn’t the only one watching. She stood near the porch steps, still and quiet. Her eyes followed them, like she already understood what was happening. Maybe she’d seen it before with other people, but it was the same kind of connection.
Skylar didn’t notice her. She was too focused on the sweater. Too focused on the relief of having it back.
Chains stayed where he was, just for a moment. Stella’s voice came first. Soft. “She trusts you.”
Chains didn’t respond straight away. I watched him carefully, like he wasn’t sure how to take that or how it meant more than he wanted it to.
“She doesn’t trust easily,” I said quietly. Because she didn’t, not Skylar, especially not after everything.
Chains nodded once. “I know.”
That was all he said, but it was enough because it told me he wasn’t guessing. He’d noticed, and handled it carefully anyway. Mom stepped closer to me slightly. Not breaking eye contact with him for long, because Chains was the one they were learning to trust.
“She’s been through a lot,” she said gently.
“I know,” he replied.
No hesitation, no performative sympathy, just a fact. That mattered more than anything else I could think of, because it showed exactly what Chains was to them.
I didn’t fully understand when it had happened. When he’d become someone they looked for, they trusted without thinking, they didn’t question. Chains hadn’t forced it, hadn’t asked for it. It had just formed around him.
That’s what made it more complicated. It wasn’t about intention, but instinct. Whatever this was, none of us was forcing it.
It was just happening.