Page 95 of Three Stepbrothers Save Christmas

“I know you are, Sweetheart. Why didn’t you come and get one of us?” he asks, running a hand over her head, trying to remove the wet hair from her face.

“I didn’t want to be a nuisance.”

Travis and I share a look, and I can see the anger on his face. He’s not mad at her; we could never be mad at her for this. She has been told her whole life to suppress her feelings. It’s no wonder she turned to self-harming as a coping mechanism. We wish she would realise we are here now, and she’ll never have to hide her emotions again.

“You are never a nuisance, not to us. Even if you walked in during a meeting with a client, I would put you first every single time.” I know he’s trying to reassure her, but with everything going on, I don’t know if it will get through to her. She is in survival mode, and let's face it, who can blame her?

“All done,” I whisper as I sit back on my heels and look at her hip. I know one of them will scar; it will be a new addition to the rest of the tiny ones that pepper her soft, pale skin.

I’m just climbing to my feet when Ethan walks in with some pyjamas and her dressing gown.

“Come on, Kitten. Let’s get you dressed while Travis gets changed.” I help her to stand from Travis's lap as he climbs to his feet.

“I’ll come and see you in a minute, okay, Sweetheart?”

Verity nods as I watch my brother walk from the bathroom, rubbing his face. I can see in his body he is struggling with everything. I’m just worried this may be the icing on the cake that pushes him into doing something stupid.

48

Travis

I pull on my t-shirt and lean against the chest of drawers, Gripping the edges so tight that my knuckles turn white.

I’m failing her.

We have been here eleven days, three days until Christmas, and I wanted to be home for it. Instead, we are still here, and she is cutting herself to deal with everything.

I’m failing her.

I have always been able to take control of any situation, but this is a whole new ball game, and I’m at a loss. How the hell do I save her whilst keeping her safe from not only the outside world but from herself?

I didn’t even know she was there when I walked into that bathroom. I didn’t hear the shower as I was so caught up in my head, trying to piece together the puzzle that will save the woman I love from being forced to marry someone else. But when I opened the door and saw her sitting on the shower floor, my heart broke. My heart stopped completely when I noticed the blood running in the water as it flowed down the plughole.

I grabbed her from the shower and held her to me while screaming for Ryan. I don’t think she even registered I was there until I pulled her from the hot water. She is so trapped by her pain and heartache that there the outside world ceases to exist.

I’m failing her.

I take a deep breath and try to push my burning rage down. I don’t want her to see it, to see the version of me that I’m saving purely for her father and the bastard who thinks he can marry her. She is ours, and no fucker will change that.

With one last deep breath, I stand and turn to the door to see Verity standing there with her doll. She looks so lost and scared, I fucking hate it.

“Come here, Sweetheart,” I whisper as I hold out my arms. Verity runs to me and starts to cry. Jason was right; there is a little inside of her who is desperate to be loved and protected, and I am so glad she feels safe enough with me to show that side.

I pick her up and carry her to the bed so we can lie together. She always seems to relax more when lying in my arms, and I’m more than happy to hold her for as long as she needs.

We lay on the bed in silence for a few minutes as she cries quietly. I run a hand over her head and hold her tight, wishing she wasn’t going through this.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

I lean back a little so I can see her tear-soaked face. Placing a hand on her cheek, I press a kiss on her forehead.

“I know, Sweetheart. You have been so strong and brave. I’m so proud of how well you have been doing.”

“I’ve not been any of those things,” she whispers, looking away. I apply pressure under her chin to make her look at me again.

“Was today the first time you cut yourself whilst we’ve been here?” When she nods, I feel a little pressure lift from my chest. At least she hasn’t been doing it without us realising again. “Then you have been brave and strong. Because otherwise, you would have done it before now.” I pull her against my chest and bury my nose in her still-wet hair.

“Just please, don’t do it again. None of us will ever see you as a nuisance, never. We’re not him; we want you to open up and explain how you feel. We want to know everything about your day, and nothing you ever tell us will make us wish you would leave. We love you so much, Sweetheart.”

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