Chapter 2 #3
We met at a group home, a few years before we aged out, and the place was rough as fuck.
Though in mine and Nox’s cases, better than home by a long fucking shot.
The home created a bond between us that is stronger than any blood.
That has seen us through some rough times, especially when Justin was placed in different homes without us, without Ant.
Eight years Ant's been fighting for him.
Eight fucking years of applications and appeals and letters to social services that went nowhere because of our address, our income, our records — Ant's own care file weaponised against him.
All three of us have been building toward the same thing.
A proper place. Stable income. Something they couldn't point at and call insufficient.
She handed us that in about forty minutes flat, without even knowing what it means.
“Thank you, Noah, that hug was much needed,” her soft voice floats up to me, and my arms twitch, something inside me wishing that I could have given her the hug she needed.
But that’s fucking ridiculous; how could she find comfort in someone like me?
I’m more monster than man most days. “Can you go see how Justin is settling in with the others while I show the guys the pool house, please?”
“Okay,” Noah replies, giving us a look like he’s assessing the threat we represent. I fucking hate that he has to, but know his thought process all too well, especially us having a violent upbringing in common.
“Thank you, darling,” she replies. Her shoulders rise and fall with a deep inhale before she turns to us. Her hazel eyes stop at me, a small smile on her lovely, very kissable lips. “Thank you, Steele.”
My brows dip. “What for?”
She takes a step closer, licking her lips, which sends a twitch to my cock, then slowly reaches out her hand, cupping my cheek like I did hers.
Her fingers are cool against my jaw, her skin pale against mine, and something about the contrast — the gentleness of it — makes my chest do something I don't have a name for.
I don’t even realize I’ve bent down until her thumb brushes the edge of my scar. I hear the other two take in sharp breaths, but I pay them no mind. Her eyes trace the scarred flesh, the skin around them tight, but there’s no revulsion in them, no pity either. Just a hint of sadness.
“For offering a stranger comfort,” she whispers, her gaze once again finding mine. “Shall we go to the pool house now? So you guys can get settled in?”
Her hand leaves my skin, and I miss the touch instantly, the need to chase it almost overcoming me.
“We’ll need to grab some stuff from our place,” Anatole informs her, and she pauses, her eyes widening briefly.
“Oh, of course. Maybe you could do that after dinner? Once Justin is settled a bit? I-if that works, of course,” she rambles, and her cheeks heat a little in the most charming way. And that’s what she’s done, with me certainly. Charmed me like those fairytale princesses do.
“That’ll work,” he replies, and her smile brightens, stealing the breath from my lungs. Jesus, I’ve not felt this way before, especially after only just meeting a chick. But she’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met before.
“Excellent, perfect, good…” she trails off, her cheeks coloring more and even Anatole’s lips twitch at how damn adorable she is when she’s flustered. “Right, pool house.”
She gives a nod, then spins on her sneaker-covered foot, heading out the door.
“Best we follow the Princess,” Nox states, and I give him a sharp look. He shrugs. “What? She is obviously a poor little rich girl, probably with daddy issues.”
A small gasp has me looking back at the doorway to find Blossom standing there, her lower lip trembling slightly. Fucking dick move, Nox.
“Um, if you want to follow me?” she invites us, looking at the ground, her voice so damn small that I want to punch Nox in his pretty boy face.
“Shit, I can be a dickhead sometimes, Petal,” Nox states, and I whip my head towards him. I can count on one hand the times he’s apologized, and it’s only ever been to me or Ant. “I shouldn’t have said that shit.”
She gives him a small head dip, swallowing and pasting a fake as fuck smile on her lips which cuts me to the bone. “That’s okay. Shall we?”
She turns around again, clearly not wanting to face any of us, and I shoulder-check Nox as I pass to follow her.
“You can be a real fucking asshole sometimes, Nox,” Ant hisses behind me.
“I know,” is all that Nox replies, and my chest tightens.
He knows. He knows why he lashes out, why he builds walls.
Growing up Black and biracial in the system taught him to expect the worst from people who look like her — rich, white, and privileged.
Taught him to strike first before they can hurt him.
Doesn’t excuse his poor fucking behaviour with her; she’s clearly not like that.
The way she looked at Anna and Noah, at us, at these broken kids — no fear, no judgment, just genuine care.
But some things can’t be unlearned so quickly.
Just like the kids of this house, we’re broken. The difference is, it’s too late to fix the three of us.