Page 17 of Bloom: Part 2

Raising my head, I found myself face-to-face with a huge biker wearing an enforcer patch on his cut. He frowned at my contact with the redhead in front of me. As though sensing his displeasure, the redhead hurried toward the biker, who slung his arm around the boy, the light catching the matching rings on their third fingers.

“That’s Cass.” James sidled up to me. “He’s Mort’s husband. That’s Mort, who was glaring at you right now. He’s quite protective of Cass, who can be a bit naïve. Right there to the left, walking between those two men, is Fable. Zak’s to the left, and Booker’s to the right. They’re a throuple. You already know Grimm and Crowe. Rubble isn’t here, but that’s Miles, his boyfriend. And Max is, of course, Crowe’s.”

Thank god I wasn’t bad with names, or I would have forgotten who was who. “All right, everyone, make yourselves at home,” I said loudly. “Whatever’s in the fridge or cupboards…just help yourselves. I need to take a quick shower. I’ll be down in a few.”

“Don’t take too long, or I’ll be forced to come find you.” James winked at me.

“Jamie,” Grimm admonished, and I nodded my thanks to him. Someone needed to know when to put a leash on that boy.

Taking a shower gave me a moment to gather myself and come to terms with the people milling around in my home. By the time I got dressed and headed downstairs, I felt better about the impromptu visit. I had expected a certain level of rowdiness, but they were cordial and respectful of my space, a huge contrast to their cut-throat, rough-edged exterior.

In the living room, the men had taken their seats on the sofas, with their boys conveniently perched in their laps, leaving the armchair for me. Miles and James walked out of the kitchen, carrying bowls of chips, dip, and beer. There wasn’t enough for everyone, so the boys opened a bottle of wine. An expensive one, but I didn’t mind.

Their presence was surprisingly comforting.

Someone took out a deck of cards and started a poker game on the coffee table. I watched at first but was roped in to join when Grimm left to pick up the pizzas the boys had ordered. The game was lighthearted, full of ribaldry and teasing remarks. They never wasted an opportunity to roast each other good-naturedly, and I chuckled at the jokes, forgetting for a moment who these men were and what they signified. At that moment, they were just good company.

Grimm returned with the food and set the boxes on the granite countertop. The smell of pepperoni, sausage, and mushrooms filled the room, and the poker game was soon forgotten.

“I guess I should assume host duties.” One of the younger guys decided to help me. “Miles, right?” I asked.

“Yes.” He had a kind smile that reached his eyes behind the frames of his glasses. “And I don’t mind helping. In fact, serving others is kind of my thing.”

From the tint in his cheeks, his comment seemed loaded, but I didn’t dwell on it. We got the pizzas doled out to everyone.They’d even gotten me a veggie, which was thoughtful. Jamie had probably told them I was a vegetarian.

“I guess this means everyone has accepted you now.” Crowe entered the kitchen, where I was stacking the empty pizza boxes for disposal.

“Is that what this means?”

Crowe sat on a stool at the island. “We need to talk.”

I froze. “About?”

“Bloom coming home. What are you planning to do?”

My mind went blank. What did he expect me to do? “Excuse me?”

“You are throwing him a welcome home party, aren’t you?”

I scratched the back of my neck. “Honestly, I hadn’t thought about it.”

He clenched his jaw. “You hadn’t thought about it?”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind ensuring he’s all right and getting the best care at the hospital. A party is the last thing Bloom needs when he should be resting.” I dropped my shoulders, allowing the tension to ease from them. Did Crowe think he was better at taking care of Bloom than me? “But we can have a small gathering to welcome him home. It might be better for you to handle it back at the clubhouse.”

“Why not have it here? It’s much quieter…nicer, and it’s…” Crowe crouched forward, gripping the counter. “What exactly are you saying?”

“That it might be better for Bloom to recuperate at the clubhouse.”

“You’re breaking up with him?” His voice raised an octave, his sharp gaze pinning me to the spot.

“No, but…it’s just best right now.” To keep him out of reach if my family found me. I couldn’t let him get hurt again because of me. Bloom might hate me, but at least he would be safe.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Crowe pushed away from the island, the stool scraping against the tiled floor. “He nearly died to protect you, and you think it’s best to kick him out of your home? Didn’t I tell you to stay the fuck away from him? Why didn’t you? This is going to crush him.”

“He’s more resilient than he looks. Just trust me that this is best for him—and it’s temporary.”

Until I was dead or—what was the alternative? Was there an alternative to my family not killing me when they found me?

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