Page 60 of Bound By Blood and Lies

“You say that now, but?—”

“I don’t care,” I cut her off gently as my hands tighten on her cheeks and I pull her closer to press another soft kiss to her mouth.

“I only care that you’re safe.” I kiss her again.

“I only care that you’re home.” Another kiss, even softer this time.

“I only care that you’re alive.” I rest my forehead against hers, holding her there so she has no choice but to look at me.

“You can tell me anything you want, and it won’t change a single thing. I will still love you exactly the way I did before.”

“You don’t know that,” she cries as she collapses into my chest. Her whole body starts shaking as the sobs finally tear free.

“I do,” I murmur, pulling her tighter against me as my eyes fall closed and I press my cheek to the top of her head. My arms wrap around her like I’m trying to shield her from the world. “You’re my Tinkerbell. There’s nothing in this world that could ever change that. You’re magic to me.”

“Come on everyone,” Mum says gently. “Roman, Felix, take the girls upstairs and help them get cleaned up and changed.”

She glances toward the others. “Boys, help me grab some blankets and put the kettle on. When you’re all ready, we’ll talk in the lounge.”

I nod and feel Fae’s body tighten even more against me. I turn her gently toward the staircase, keeping an arm wrapped around her shoulders as I guide her forward. As we pass Robyn, I lean down and press a brief kiss to her cheek despite the instinctive discomfort that flickers through me at the contact.

“Hi Roman,” she says softly.

“Welcome home, Robyn.”

We walk up the stairs together. The quiet weight of everything that’s happened settles over the house like a storm cloud waiting to break. Whatever my mum discovered tonight, whatever she walked through that door carrying, I know it isn’t just about the girls. Something has shifted. Something bigger than any of us are prepared for. And as the stairs creak beneath our feet and the voices downstairs fade into the background, the certainty settles in my chest.

By the time we reach the top of the staircase, I already know.

My life is about to change forever.

CHAPTER 18

ROMAN

The shower has been running for almost twenty minutes.

I’m sitting on the edge of my bed staring at the bathroom door like it might vanish if I look away. Steam keeps slipping out from beneath it, curling slowly into the room and carrying the faint scent of soap with it. I should probably move and do something useful.

Instead, I stay exactly where I am.

Fae asked to shower alone. The words were quiet but firm enough that I knew pushing back would only make things harder for her. It still took every ounce of restraint I have to nod and step out of the bathroom when she closed the door behind me. I drag a hand slowly down my face and glance toward the phone sitting on the bedside table. If she wants to be alone, she can have that. I will give her whatever she needs. But I can’t leave her sitting in silence again. When was the last time she had noise around her that wasn’t tied to fear?

My gaze drifts back to the bathroom as‘Call Your Mum by Noah Kahan ft. Lizzy McAlpine’rings through both rooms. I dropped a pair of jogging bottoms and a soft hoodie on the counter for her before she turned the water on. It was the only thing I could think to do in a moment like this. Somethingsimple and ordinary on a day where everything else feels anything but.

I’ve only just got her back but the fear of losing her again sends fear lancing through me. I won’t lose her physically, of course. I won’t let her out of my sight again. But mentally? Who knows. I just know the idea of her slipping somewhere I can’t reach feels like the ground giving way beneath my feet. I haven’t been able to function without her, and whatever demons are clawing at her right now, whatever ghosts followed her out of that place, I want to face them with her.

I just don’t know how to prove it yet.

The sound of the shower finally cuts off and my chest tightens as my attention snaps toward the bathroom door. A faint rustle of fabric follows and a moment later the door opens. My hoodie swallows her whole, the sleeves hang well past her hands whilst the fabric falls loosely around her thighs. Her hair is still damp; dark strands cling to her cheeks and the curve of her neck as droplets slide slowly down her jaw before disappearing into the collar of the hoodie. Her eyes are red, the skin around them raw and slightly swollen like she’s been fighting off tears in the shower.

“Come here,” I say quietly as I open my arms for her.

She pauses long enough to swipe the back of her hand beneath her eyes before crossing the room. When she reaches me, I pull a towel from the bedpost and guide her gently down onto the mattress in front of me. I start drying her hair, working the towel through the strands in patient movements. Water darkens the fabric as I move it from root to tip, careful not to tug when the knots catch. She stays silent. Every now and then her chest shudders slightly with the small hitch of someone doing everything they can to keep the tears from starting again.

She loses the battle anyway.

The first tear slips down her cheek, tracing a line along her skin before dropping from her chin. Another follows. The towel falls from my hands onto the bed as I lean forward, catching the tears with my thumb and gently turning her so her back rests against my chest. My arms come around her, holding her there with a steady pressure.