Page 58 of Four Fiances & I

“I would spend every night cuddled up to you if I could. You know that.”

“I do,” I whisper as Maximus tightens his hold on me for a moment and kisses the top of my head.

“Get some sleep, Shorty.”

“Night, Daddy,” I whisper as I find sleep a lot easier this time while safe in Maximus’s arms.

ChapterTwenty

CHRISTIAN

Leaning back on the sofa in the sitting room, I sip coffee and pray for some relief from the constant headache. I remember now why I don’t let myself get drunk; I always suffer from the worst hangovers.

I glance up at the clock and see it's five to nine in the morning. I only managed to get about three hours of sleep this morning. I don’t think I could ever admit to my brothers how hard I crumbled when I got to my room last night. I locked the bedroom door, needing some time to myself, and broke down in the shower. I haven’t cried like that in years. Probably because I don’t think I have let myself feel what I did last night in years.

All I could see was the way I yelled and fought with my brothers and the way Jason had looked at me when we were fighting. But the most painful of it all was the look in Jasmine's eyes when I grabbed her.

“You’re hurting me.”

Those three words were like a knife straight into my heart. I always swore I would never hurt her, but last night, I not only hurt her physically, but I was hurting her emotionally as well. That’s something I don’t think I will ever forgive myself for.

Looking down at the bracelet on my wrist, which my girl gave me for Christmas, makes my heart ache. She called me her amazing Daddy, but I’ve been anything but. It just took me nearly throwing everything away for me to realise.

What the fuck happened to me last night? I lost control in a way I haven’t for a very long time. Even when Jasmine was taken, I didn’t lose it to the extent I did last night. I’m so ashamed of how I handled it all. It’s like as soon as I got home, everything just collapsed in on me. All the pressure I’ve been trying to hide from my brothers came to the forefront and boiled over drastically. I have a lot of apologising to do, as well as being honest with my family about how bad things have really gotten.

After Jasmine went to bed, leaving Jason and me, we agreed to leave it for the night and meet here at nine, knowing the others won't be up until at least ten. That gives us an hour to get a few things off our chests and for me to catch him up on a few things.

“Hey.”

I look up to find Jason walking in and heading straight to the coffee machine.

“Morning,” I mumble, closing my eyes as I keep my head on the back of the sofa.

“Hungover?” Jason asks as he approaches. I hear him sit on the sofa opposite mine.

“Yep.” I slowly lift my head and look at him, the hate I feel for myself increasing when I see the patchwork of bruising and cuts on his face.

“Fuck, Jas.” I sit up, place the mug on the coffee table and force myself to look at my brother. “Is your nose broken?”

“Yeah, reset it last night. It’s fine; nothing I haven’t had to do in the past,” he shrugs.

“That’s not the fucking point! I broke your nose! Shit!” Jumping to my feet, I start pacing with my head in my hands. All the guilt I was trying to push down rushing back to the forefront.

“Hey, it’s okay. Looks like I got you good, too.” I know he's trying to calm me down, but it isn’t going to happen. I can’t believe I attacked him like that; I wasn’t even that drunk by that point. I just lost control.

“Hey, stop.” I hadn’t heard him move as I paced around the sitting room. I lift my head to find him standing in front of me. He places his hands on my shoulders and forces me to look at him. “Speak to me. You’ve never had a problem before, so what's making it start now?”

He’s right; it’s always been me and him against the world. I love the twins just as much as I love Jason, but they were young when Mum got ill and then died. I took on the parent role with them more than with Jason.

He had been forced into this world the same night as me when he knelt there with a gun to his head as I was being forced to kill Jasmine's father, Connor Grant. Every time I think of him now, I want to be sick. His death has always consumed me, but now, knowing how much she missed him and knowing what taking him from her meant, and how she suffered without him there to protect her from her abusive mother. The guilt I’ve felt my whole life has become even more unbearable.

“Hey, where have you gone?”

Jason's voice brings me back to the sitting room and out of the warehouse, where everything started all those years ago.

“I’m sorry.” It’s all I can seem to say when I look at my brother's battered face. He’s right; I don’t look much better, but that’s what I deserve.

“I know you are, Christian. I have been waiting for you to lose it for a while now; I just never expected it to be to that extent.” He looks towards the open door. “Hang on,” he sighs before heading over to close it, checking outside for anyone else before turning around to face me.

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