“Oh.” Holden’s face falls. “I just assumed it was a done deal.”
Beck glances toward me, and I’m instantly lost in the happiness swirling in his eyes. “I mean, that’s what we’re hoping for, but we still have to talk to him,” he says.
Holden claps his hands together. “Perfect. Well, I’m gonna head home. Please let me know what you guys find out. Like,actuallylet me know? And not just say you will and then forget about me.”
Beck flicks Holden on the forehead. “I was discussing the future of my family with my soon-to-be husband, CT. But I promise, we’ll reach out when we know something.”
It doesn’t matter how many times he says that—it always sends my heart into overdrive and my stomach into flutters.
Holden nods, content with that, and stands, hugging first me and then Beck before heading out the door with a stern order to call him as soon as we have news.
The second Beck and I walk into Safe Haven, I know something is wrong. Some of the younger kids are crying quietly, clinging to each other, and there’s an aura that something bad is either happening or did happen.
A shout—shrill and pained—tears through the room, followed by a loud crash. Beck and I exchange a glance and take off running together in the direction of the sound, my heart pounding so hard I can almost hear it whooshing in my ears.
When I realize what’s going on, my already bruised heart breaks again. Eli’s standing in the middle of the room, hands clenched into fists, his knuckles bloodless. The split in his lip has reopened and there’s blood dripping down his chin, staining the shirt I bought him yesterday. His eyes, though. That’s what really gets me. They’re wild, and filled with so much pain that it makes my chest ache.
“Eli,” Sasha says calmly from where she’s standing a few feet away. Her stance appears relaxed and in control, but I can see a slight tremor in her frame. “Everything is going to be okay.”
He stares her down, his chest heaving. “No!” he shouts. “It’s not okay. It’ll never be okay!” His entire body is shaking. So hard that I’m surprised his legs are even holding him up.
Sasha tries again, a little firmer. “It will, Eli. I promise. We’ll help you, okay? I know this hurts, but you can do this. Can you try to breathe with me?”
It’s like her words aren’t reaching him at all, like the well of pain inside him is too big and too deep to reach him through it. He lets out a strangled shout and grabs a bottle of shampoo off the bed, launching it at the wall so hard it knocks a hole in the drywall and breaks the bottle. The shampoo arcs up, and I watch in abject horror as the liquid pours down the wall, like it’s bleeding with him.
“Eli,” I say, stepping fully into the room.
Eli turns to me, his eyes burning with fury. His chest rises and falls harshly, like he can’t quite make it work the way it’s supposed to. I take another cautious step forward. Some of the fury bleeds away for the briefest of moments, leaving only devastation before it takes over again. “Don’t!” he says, but it’s not as harsh as before. It’s shaky, more hurt. “Don’t you dare come in here and tell me it’s going to be okay, Roman. It’s not.”
I take another step forward, blocking out everyone else in the room. I know exactly what he’s feeling. Iwashim.Every so often, I feel like I stillamhim. I reach my hand out to him, and he takes a step away, wrapping his arms around himself. “He doesn’t want me,” he whispers, his voice low and pained.
I take another step toward him, the urge to pull him into my arms and hold him almost too strong for me to ignore. “My own dad doesn’t want me, Roman. Why doesn’t he want me?”
His eyes fill with tears, and he swipes angrily at his face, smearing blood as he does. It doesn’t matter. The tears keep coming. Harder and faster until his chest isn’t heaving with his ragged breaths, but instead with his heart-wrenching sobs.
He backs up until his legs hit the bed behind him, and he drops onto it, curling in on himself and burying his face in his hands as his body shakes and ugly sobs rip through him.
I sink to the ground in front of him, much like I did in the snow, and place my hands on his knees. “I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but you’re not alone, okay?” I say gently.
His fingers find their way into his hair, and he tugs on the strands hard. “Why doesn’t he want me, Roman?” he asks through his gasping tears. “What did I do wrong? Why am I not good enough?”
Fuck. I can’t take this. I lift up and sit beside him, pulling him against my body. He collapses against me, renewed sobs wracking his small frame. “You’re okay. I’ve got you, okay?” I whisper, squeezing my eyes against the sting of my own tears. When I’ve managed to quell the urge to break down, I look to Sasha. “Sash, we’ve got this, okay? Go check on the littles up front.”
Eli shudders hard and pulls back, his face an absolute wreck of blood and tears. “Oh God, I scared them, didn’t I? I’m the worst. I didn’t mean to scare them.”
I shush him, pulling him back against my chest before he can spiral out of control again. “They’re okay. You’re not the worst. You’re hurt. And angry. No one is mad at you.”
That doesn’t seem to convince him. He buries his face in my shirt as his shoulders shake. I look up at Beck, expecting him to have an absolutely-fucking-not look on his face. He doesn’t, of course. He’s the best person I’ve ever met. Instead, his hand is covering his mouth, and his cheeks are wet with tears. His blue eyes lock on mine, and I know without a doubt that this hasn’t scared him away. If anything, it’s solidified things for him, made them more real. More important. I wasn’t kidding when I told him in the note I wrote that I had someone important to take care of.
Beck takes a step to the side and quietly closes the door, shutting us in the room, before he sits down and leans against the wall. He doesn’t speak, and I don’t either. We just stare at each other while Eli breaks apart in my arms, spilling years’ worth of pain into the space between us.
Chapter 4
Beck
If I ever had a single doubt that Roman would make an amazing father, it was obliterated the second he wrapped this heartbroken baby in his arms. And heisa baby. He might be a teenager and an angry, devastated one at that, but when he looked up at Roman with tears pouring down his face and blood smeared across his cheeks, he looked like a small child. A small child who needs tender love and support. Who needs reassurance.
Fuck.
