Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“BEAUTY AND A FREAK” BY JOHN MICHAEL HOWELL
ANATOLE
Thursday afternoon and exhaustion drags at my bones as I jog up the path from the pool house to the main house.
The shower I just took helped to get me clean and wake me up a little, but it was a long, hard day at the site and we had to work later than usual, so I wasn’t there when Jus got home from school like I normally am.
Walking up to the kitchen door, I pause, finding Blossom with my brother, and some old guy sat at the table, a laptop in front of them, papers strewn across the surface.
“Now Justin, this is your current balance for spending money,” the old guy says, showing something to my brother on the laptop.
“And this,” he clicks onto a different screen.
“This is your investment portfolio. It’s small, only half a month’s payment is currently in both, but as time goes on it’ll grow. ”
I watch as Jus’s face lights up, and my chest tightens.
“This is all mine?” His voice, fuck, it’s so hesitant, like he can’t believe it.
“This is yours, Justin,” Blossom replies, placing a hand on his arm. “For now, and for your future.”
“Are you sure? It’s really mine?” The backs of my eyes prick. Fuck. He’s so young and yet he knows that things which seem too good usually aren’t. Not until Blossom anyway.
“It’s yours. I do this for every child.” She reaches beside her, handing him a plastic card.
“And this is a prepaid card, with your monthly spending allowance on it. But remember, once it’s gone that’s it.
There’s no more until the next payment. Oh, and I don’t think this works for online purchases. ”
I watch Jus’s face. At the hope. The excitement. The security.
Everything I’ve been trying to give him for years.
Everything I’ve fucking failed to provide.
The weight of my own inadequacy crushes my chest, the walls of the house feeling like they’re bearing down above me.
I can’t breathe.
Need to get out.
So I do the one thing I know I can, turning around and walking away, my hands shaking as I try to take sucking gasps of air. I don’t know where I’m going, don’t fucking care.
All I do know is that I’m on the verge of losing the control I always have. Of falling apart and I can’t let Jus, let anyone see me.
Blinking, I realise I’ve come to the spot where Blossom and I pulled up that old tree. Where she looked up at me when I walked over like I was some kind of answer and not the fuck up problem I clearly am.
There’s a bench there now, the hole left from the tree gone and freshly turned soil with what I think are some kind of sticks in it that must be plants. Fuck if I know.
I sink down onto the bench, heavier now than I’ve ever felt. My elbows go to my knees, my head in my hands as I just try to fucking breathe.
But like everything else in my shitty life, I fail at that too.
“FALLING TOO” BY VEDA GAIL
BLOSSOM
Jus’s enthusiasm is infectious and both George and I are beaming as we pack up after he runs off to show Sally his card. It’s so sweet that they’re getting along so well.
“Thank you, George,” I say as I walk him to the door.
“No, thank you, Miss. Devonshire.” I’ve long since given up on insisting he call me Blossom. “Allowing me to help these kids, it always brightens my day. And beats the rat race of corporate finance that’s for sure.”
He gives me a wave, going to his car and I shut the door, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. He’s right. It’s a privilege to help these kids who the system can’t or won’t. It’s not always the fault of the CPS, they have to do too much with too little.
But still, knowing that we’re making a real difference is something that’s precious.
I stroll through the house, wondering where Anatole is. Nox and Steele are still at work, but Anatole is usually back by now, checking in with Justin.
My stomach fills with butterflies at the thought of seeing him, like it does each time. Nothing else has happened since James on Monday. Since he, along with the others, confessed their jealousy. I wasn’t able to talk to them like I promised Nox, life and my own insecurities got in the way.
But it’s like Anatole has taken a step back again, and although it hurts a little, I also can’t help wondering if it’s because of something I’ve done.
Squaring my shoulders, I decide I’ll just go and see if he’s in the pool house, maybe try and chat to him.
Or kiss him. I wonder if he kisses more like Steele and his primal possession? Or Nox and his dominating precision?
Hold your horses. You don’t even know if he wants to kiss you. Though he did almost kiss me—
My thoughts are interrupted when I hear rasping breaths coming from the new raspberry patch, like someone can’t breathe. I hurry around an old bush to come up short when I find Anatole on the bench, posture slumped, shoulders shaking as his fingers grip his hair tightly.
I’ve never seen him like this. He’s usually so in control.
I slow my steps, approaching like I would a wounded animal.
“Anatole?” I ask softly when I’m in front of him. He doesn’t look up. Doesn’t acknowledge me. Just sits there with his head in his hands like the weight of the world is crushing him. “Are you okay, darling?”
A rough, broken laugh. “No.”
“Talk to me. Please.”
His head rises, slowly like he’s underwater, and my heart hurts when I see his red eyes, his cheeks damp. Even so, he tries to pull himself together, but he’s shaking too badly.
“I couldn’t give him that.” His voice is rough, breaking, and god it’s like he’s cutting my insides with a knife.
“Who, love?” I take another step, my hands twitching because I desperately want to pull him to me.
“Jus.”
The single word is so full of pain, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks and I can’t stand it.
“I tried so hard. Worked every shit job, saved every penny. And it was never enough. I couldn’t give him the security he needed.
” His jaw works. “ I applied the day I turned eighteen. They had a file on me — my own fucking care file — and they used it. Said I was too young, too unstable, insufficient income, insufficient housing. My own history turned into a weapon against me, Bloom. Kinship care was supposed to mean something. But apparently I couldn’t give him a future.
Couldn’t give him—” He breaks off, jaw clenching.
Before I’m thinking, I slide into his lap, wrapping my arms around him as I pull him so close my body shakes with each of his trembles.
“You kept him alive, love,” I tell him fiercely, his strong arms closing around me and gripping tight, like he’s holding on for dear life. “You kept him safe. You loved him, Anatole. When no one else did. You fought for him every single day.”
He shakes his head against me, a sob falling between us, and tears fill my own eyes at his agony. “It’s not enough. Never fucking enough.”
“It’s everything. The money is just money. But your love is what’s kept him going, knowing that you will always be there for him.”
He looks up at me, eyes red and swollen. And the devastation in them kills me. “You don’t understand.” His voice is raw. “I’m supposed to be enough. I’m his big brother for fucks’ sake, I should be able to—”
“You are enough.” I will him to believe me. “And I do understand. I understand feeling like you’re never enough. Just like I understand having the person who’s meant to love you, just… not.”
Something in him seems to snap, and his hands move from around me to tangle in my hair, tugging my face down to his, his lips slamming onto mine.
I can taste the salt of his sadness, his kiss a desperate question and promise all in one go. It’s nothing like Steele’s or Nox’s. It’s commanding, but also safe, like he steals my breath but gives me his own all at once.
I melt into him, a small sound of utter bliss leaving my lips only to be captured by his. He takes it, shoulders it like he does everything else. But he also gives back, a deep manly groan filling my mouth as his tongue meets my own.
My hands clench in his damp t-shirt, pulling him closer, needing him to know that he is enough. That he is everything, and not just to Justin.
We break apart only when the need for oxygen becomes too great, gasping, our foreheads pressed together, eyes closed. His hands are still in my hair, though he loosens his grip, his fingers stroking.
“I have nothing to give you.” His whispered confession shatters my heart. He still doesn’t see.
“I don’t need things, Anatole.” I pull back slightly, so I can look into those beautiful blue eyes of his. “I’ve got more things than I know what to do with. I don’t want any more.”
His chest stills. “What do you need? Want?” He’s barely breathing.
“I need someone to stay. Someone who won’t leave when things get hard.” I watch as something shifts in him, the tension draining from his body.
His eyes close. “I’m not going anywhere, Bloom.”
Hope flares bright and hot in my chest, desperate.
Then his body tenses up again, his eyes flying open, wide and panicked as he pulls back. Just slightly. Just enough.
“We… we were supposed to get on our feet. Find a place. Take Jus—”
I can feel the entire world come crashing down around me. The birds are no longer singing around us. And the hope inside me dies.
“R-right,” I reply stiffly, taking my hands off his chest because it suddenly hurts to have them there. “Of course, that’s the plan.”
His face pales, his hands trying to tighten in my hair but I get to my feet before he can. “Bloom—”
I’m backing away, needing to get out of here before the tears that are threatening to fall, do. I force a smile that feels like it’s cracking my face apart.
Stupid, stupid Blossom.
“No, it’s okay.” Step. “You should.” Step. “You’re his brother.” Step. “You should all be together.” Step. “A family.”
“But—” He half rises but I fling my hand out and he stops, hovering. "Bloom, that's not—I don't want—"
“I should go. Kids need—”
I don’t even finish my sentence, just spin and rush away, tears making it hard to see exactly where I’m going but I don’t care. As long as he doesn’t see me fall apart. Doesn’t see how hurt I am. How stupid I feel.
So I run.
Like a coward.
Before he can see me cry. Before he can take back the kiss that’s still burning on my lips. Before I can beg him to stay even though I know I shouldn’t.
He has to do what he feels is right for Justin. For him. For them.
Even if it breaks my heart.
“WAR OF HEARTS (ACOUSTIC)” BY RUELLE
ANATOLE
She’s gone before I can stop her, before I can explain that I don’t want her to leave. That I don’t want to leave. That I want us, all of us, to stay with her.
I can still taste her on my lips, still drunk on her cherry blossom scent. The ghost of her hands tangled in my shirt makes my pulse race. Makes me wish I’d kept my big fucking mouth shut and just kept kissing her like I was drowning and she was the only fucking thing keeping me afloat.
Because she was. She is.
And the hurt that flashed in those beautiful eyes of hers, the pain when I just threw everything back in her face… fuck. That hurts more than anything ever has. More than any beating my mother gave me. Hurts worse than all the years I went hungry so Jus could eat.
I sit there, on the bench, until the sun goes down, missing family dinner but I just can’t face her. I certainly can’t eat with this guilt swirling in my gut.
Eventually, once darkness has fallen, I sigh, lifting myself off the seat. I feel like I’ve aged a hundred years as I slowly make my way to the pool house, mind spinning with just how badly I fucked up.
I walk in to find Nox and Steele sitting on the couch, both pausing, then eyes widening as they take me in.
“What the fuck happened?”
They speak at the exact same time, the exact same words, and I’d laugh if I didn’t still feel the burn of tears in my throat.
“I fucked up.” My voice is rough. I swallow. “I fucked up so bad.”