Page 62 of This Reckless Home

“I know, Blossom. And I expressed my concerns. But you know that the system always chooses reunification with biological family.”

My heart cracks, then breaks, and tears slide down my cheeks knowing that we have no choice. That Noah is going to be forced to go back to parents who hurt him badly. Who gave him bruises and broken bones and nightmares, all because the system doesn’t take what Noah wants into account.

“How will I tell him, Marie?” My voice breaks on the last word.

“I’m so sorry, Blossom,” she sighs again, sounding as defeated as I feel. “He needs to be ready to leave tomorrow morning.”

I take a shaky inhale. “Okay.”

“Goodbye, Blossom.”

“Bye.”

The screen blurs when I pull my phone away to end the call, and before I know what I’m doing I’m finding Steele’s contact and hitting call.

“What’s up, Flower?” He answers on the second ring, and a sob falls from my lips. “Blossom, talk to me, baby.” The sounds of the garage fade as he clearly walks out of the shop.

“Noah,” I croak out, the lump in my throat so thick I can hardly get the words out. “They’re sending him back.”

“I’m on my way, Flower. I’ll be home in five minutes, okay?” His voice is full of concern and it just makes me cry harder.

“O-okay, S-Steele.”

“We’ll sort this out, sweetheart,” he tells me, and I hear him murmur something to someone, then the sound of him getting into the truck. “I promise.”

“W-we c-can’t,” I stammer, my breaths coming too fast and leaving me lightheaded.

“I need you to breathe for me, Flower. Deep breath in.” He waits until he hears me follow his instructions. “Good girl. Now out.” I do as he says, clinging to his voice like it’s the only thing keeping me afloat because it is. “Again, baby.”

He stays on the phone with me until I hear the front door opening.

“Flower?!” he calls, the sound of his pounding boots loud.

“In the kitchen,” I say back, just as his head appears in the doorway, the skin of his brow deeply creased in worry.

“S-Steele!” I’m in his arms before his name fully leaves my lips, his scent of motor oil, pine and something woodsy filling my lungs as I cry into his huge chest.

He holds me close, the usual feeling of safety when I’m in his arms eluding me because how can I feel safe when Noah won’t be?

“Bloom?!” Ant’s voice shouts after the door opens again.

“In here!” Steele yells back, and I feel the deep rumble of it against my cheek.

“What’s wrong, Petal?” Nox’s voice sounds next, and then I feel them come up on either side of us.

“Fucking system is sending Noah back home,” Steele grumbles, and I hear their sharp intakes of breath but can’t bring myself to open my eyes yet.

“Bloom, baby, open your eyes for me,” Ant cajoles, and it feels like a huge effort to lift my lashes. When I do, his blue eyes swim into view. “Good girl. Now, can you tell us what happened?”

I swallow, keeping my cheek on Steele’s chest, uncaring of the oil stains on his work overalls.

“M-Marie called. N-Noah’s parents completed their court ordered anger management and parenting courses and the j-judge decided this morning he had to go back to them.” Fresh tears spill down my cheeks, and Ant grabs a tea towel and uses it to brush my cheeks. His hands are dirty, so he must have come straight from work.

“That’s bullshit!” Nox hisses and I flinch. Not because I’m scared of him, but because he’s right, and there’s still nothing I can do about it.

“Nox,” Steele rumbles, rubbing a huge palm up and down my back, trying to soothe me.

“How am I going to tell him?” I whisper brokenly. “He has to leave tomorrow morning.”