Page 108 of Inked in Bloom
Her eyes flutter open. “Daddy, you’re home.”
“I am, Juni B.” I smile reassuringly, despite the panic rioting through my veins. “Is it okay if I take a quick peek at where you bumped your head?”
She nods. As I lift the towel away, she hisses. A thick gash slices her forehead, blood bubbling up from the wound. Cherri hands me another towel, and I swap out the bloodied one, pressing it against her injury.
“The healer is en route to stitch her up,” Dani says. “Should be here any moment.”
A few minutes later, there’s a knock at the door. Monroe opens it, stepping out of the way for the healer to come in. They stitch up Juniper’s forehead, and I hold her tiny hand, reminding her how courageous she is. Without access to their full harbinger magic until they reach maturity, children don’t have the ability to heal as quickly.
“Squeeze my hand with those big, strong muscles, Juni.”
She scrunches her face and tightens her grip, growling at me. I wince, feigning pain.
Monroe calls Cherri over, and the two of them take Lilliana and Millie into the other room. Out of the corner of my eye, mint-green waves sweep into my office, coming out a moment later with a thin stack of paper. Soft murmurs and a few giggles filter into the kitchen.
Dani stays with me, not leaving my side the entire time. Once the healer is done, they escort her to the door while I carry Juniper up the stairs and get her cleaned up. For the first time since I left the bookstore, I allow myself to inhale.
“Let’s get you to bed, sweetie. It’s been an eventful night, but you’re going to be just fine.”
Footsteps echo up the stairs, and Dani comes into the doorway holding Juniper’s favorite stuffed animal, a brown rabbit named after her favorite earthside candy bar, Snickers. I’ve smuggled a few back during quick trips. Luckily, a bunny stealing candy stuns people long enough to get away with it.
I tuck Snickers in with Juni. She hugs the rabbit, closes her eyes, and is out a minute later.
“I’m so sorry, Briar,” Dani whispers.
“It’s not your fault.” I get up from the floor and place a hand on their shoulder. “Thanks for watching the girls and for getting word to me and the healer. You did good.”
Their shoulders lower and they nod their head. “I’m going to take Cherri home. We’ll get Monroe back as well. They just got the twins back into bed.”
“Thank you.” As much as I don’t want my night with Monroe to end, I can’t leave the girls here without an adult. I also don’t want to leave Juniper.
Dani heads back downstairs, and a little while later, the front door snicks shut.
Sitting on the floor, I rest my head on the mattress next to Juniper. I don’t know how long I watch her sleep, wondering if the nightmares will come, wishing I could chase them away.
Feeling helpless I can’t.
My neck twingeswhen I wake up at 2:26 a.m. I try straightening it out after being awkwardly tilted on the mattress. Slowly getting up from the floor, I change into purple plaid pajama pants and go brush my teeth. I should be able to get a few hours of sleep before one of the girls wakes.
I tiptoe down the stairs, wanting to quickly check on the others for my own piece of mind, clean up any remnants of Juni’s accident, and get some much-needed rest.
Thankfully, when I get into their room, all three girls are peacefully sleeping and there’s no blood on the floor. I exhale, glad I don’t have to try to clean it up silently in the dark.
Lilliana and Millie are both curled up under their covers, a sea of stuffed animals filling every inch of bed they don’t take up. Across the way, Taylor’s tiny snores rise from the upper bunk. I suck in a breath at the long leg hanging over the bottom bunk’s edge, trailing my gaze upward where mint-green strands sprawl over the pillow.
Monroe.
I’m about to shuffle out of the room and let her rest, but she yawns, rubbing her bleary eyes. Nerves bubble in my chest. Does she have regrets about tonight? It’s still hard to believe it was real, that she let me touch her. Of course, Ihad to overwhelm her straight after with my chaos as a father of four.
I grab her glasses off the nightstand and hand them to her.
“I thought Dani was taking you home?” I whisper.
She swings her legs out from the bed and gets up with another yawn, following me into the living room. “Lily and Millie asked if I’d stay. They saw the blood”—she gestures toward the pristine floor—“and refused to go to bed. I sent Dani and Cherri home and took care of it.”
I lift her chin with the crook of my finger. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know.” Her minty gaze glints in the darkness. “But I wanted to be here for them. And you.”
