Page 93 of This Reckless Home

Her words are greeted with silence, and my heart fractures for her. She’s lived her entire life with a father who can’t stand her, or her mother apparently.

“You’re just like her,” he says, but it lands like an insult. “Always giving money away when it would be better invested. Always helping those beneath us.” His gaze falls on us standing with her, and he lifts his nose in the air. “But just like her, you can’t help yourself, always so desperate for any scrap of attention. It’s pathetic.” I step forward, but Nox’s hand grips my upper arm. “She never should have left you her fortune. It was mine by rights, and I wouldn’t have wasted it like you do.”

Greedy fucking asshole. He’s treated her like shit, for what? The money her mother left her? He clearly has enough given his designer chinos and tailored linen shirt. My hands clench into fists.

“You think you're so independent? So righteous? You're playing house with criminals, Blossom. What do you think will happen when the authorities find out about your little arrangement?” His gaze is calculated, like a snake about to strike.

“We haven’t done anything wrong,” I grit out, and that gaze so unlike Blossom’s snaps to me.

One side of his lips twitches upwards. “You really think that matters? I have friends. In the police department, in social services, in family court. One phone call and this whole house of cards comes tumbling down.”

My stomach drops.

“You would hurt innocent children, innocent people, just to get back at me? You hate me that much?” Blossom’s voice is broken, and I fucking loathe the man more for it.

He turns his glare onto her. “I would protect those poor children from your lack of judgment. Get rid of these men or I'll do it for you.”

With that parting threat, he turns on his polished heel and strides away, confident in that way that rich fucks are.

Blossom makes a noise, a small, shattered noice that has me spinning to her as her knees give out. Steele catches her, sitting down in a chair and pulling her shaking body into his lap. We surround them, but I just don’t know how to make her feel better.

“He’s bluffing, Petal. He can’t just⁠—”

“He’s not bluffing, Nox,” Blossom interrupts, her voice empty, her face far too pale. “He could make something up, have you arrested for... I don't know, fraud, trespassing, something. He could call CPS and say I'm running an unsafe home. He could⁠—”

She cuts off, her shoulders drawing up to her ears. She takes a deep, pained breath, her eyes closing as a single tear falling down her cheek.

“This isn’t your fault, Flower,” Steele says gently, holding her close to him, and my chest tightens when she opens her beautiful hazel eyes that are red rimmed and lifeless.

“He's my father.” Her voice is thick, choked sounding. “If he hurts you, it IS my fault. Maybe... maybe you should go. Just for a while. Until I can figure out⁠—"

I crouch in front of her, cup her trembling cheek. “No, baby. We’re not running. We’re not leaving you, and we’re not letting that bastard win.”

The words I speak are true, but I can’t hide the bile in my throat as I speak them, or the way my muscles feel coiled tight.

Wilson Devonshire has power that we don’t. Connections we don’t. And I’ve no doubt he will use it all to separate us.

The rest of the day passes in a tense blur, all of us trying to pretend everything is okay when it’s really fucking not. Steele keeps positioning himself near the windows looking out over the drive. Nox is quieter than I’ve seen him since we were kids, watching the front door whenever we’re near it.

But it’s Blossom I’m worried about. She’s gone back to that place we found her last night when she came home. Cooking more than is needed, crafting with the children with a false cheeriness that hurts my fucking soul. She shouldn’t have to deal with this, and I exchange more than one worried look with my brothers.

Jus knows something is up, he always was too observant, but then again, life so far has taught him to stay on his toes. He asks questions about Wilson, seeking reassurance that we are still staying.

Just the thought of Blossom’s father makes my molars ache. I will not leave her. We will keep our promise to stay, to be part of this chaotic family. But Wilson Devonshire strikes me as a man who delivers on his threats.

The day passes, and soon we’re setting the table for family dinner, the kids helping and then taking their seats. Tina places an enormous bowl of Spaghetti Bolognese in the middle of the table, the rich tomato sauce making my stomach growl.

I catch Blossom’s eye, and she gives me a small smile that feels like the first genuine smile I’ve got all day from her. My own lips tip up, and it’s as if it’s the first time either of us has exhaled all day.

Jus nudges me, saying something stupid that has me huffing a laugh when a loud booming knock on the front door resounds through the house.

I look up to see Blossom, pale once more, eyes wide.

“I’ll go see who it is,” I state, placing my plate on the table, and turning towards the hall.

I’m not surprised when Nox and Steele follow, but the flashing blue and red lights through the windows either side of the door make us all pause. As does what looks like a fucking army of cops standing on the porch.

“Fuck,” Nox hisses under his breath, and I nod, but resume my steps, reaching out to grasp the handle with a remarkably steady hand.