Page 97 of Blood that Burns

“Anyway, back to the room issue,” I say, desperately wanting to get my shit together. “Why this room? The other is more comfortable.”

The easy smile from moments ago fades, and I’m internally chastising myself for ruining the moment, but he speaks.

“I don’t stay in there because it reminds me too much of the past. My... father.”

I tense, because this is new. Law has never opened up to me about his dad, and it’s caught me off guard.

“You never talk about him.”

“There’s not a lot to say,” he admits. “He wasn’t the worst, but he was far from the best.”

I cycle through my breathing, weighing the odds of asking probing questions. I don’t want to push and have him retreat.

“Ask the question, sunshine.”

I groan. “The whole blocking thing is being worked on tomorrow.”

He chuckles, but as it dies down, the air becomes stifling. My nerves ratchet up and I’m about to change the subject, but he powers through, showing that I never truly had to ask the question. He knew what it was from the start. And he’s not running away.

“Mostly his abuse was verbal, but occasionally Marcellus or I would sport a swollen lip or bruised eye.”

My fingernails dig into his arm unintentionally, the anger of what those boys endured by the hands of their own father enraging me.

“Easy there, sunshine. You’ll leave a mark,” he says with a chuckle, leaning in to my ear. I shiver at the feel of his breath cresting my lobe.

This is a serious conversation. Pull yourself together, Maggie.

“He sounds awful.” My voice wavers. I mean every word, but his proximity to me is putting me off balance. “I’m glad I never met him.”

Law blows out a harsh breath. “He wasn’t all that bad.”

That stops me short. He just admitted to enduring verbal and physical abuse and yet he’s able to sayhe’s not that bad?? Then again, abuse survivors are taught to make excuses for their abusers.

“You must realize what my father went through. He had a normal life. From what I understand, he was a great guy. Well liked in the community with a tight-knit group of friends. He was very successful in his endeavors too.” Law clucks his tongue and I know it’s to check his emotions. I want to pull him in for a hug, anything to ease his mind, but he continues. “That was all taken away from him out of the blue. When the gene activated, his life ended. People turned on him. He losteverything.”

I try to put myself in the former Crown’s shoes, and I can’t. My life wasn’t normal, but I still had people who stood by me.

“Something like that will harden a man. It will inherently change who he is,” Law says, staring into my eyes. “The world around him despised his very existence, and in order to handle that, he had to grow a skin so thick, it was impenetrable. Not only for him, but for us.”

In Law’s eyes, what his father did was to keep them safe. I can understand that, but it’s his methods I’m still struggling with.

“If his skin was thick, he had to raise the three of us boys to have even thicker skin. He knew that eventually someone would come to challenge him and our family’s rule.”

“It still doesn’t make what he said and did to you all right, Law.”

He shrugs. “Things are different in this world. Power plays would lead to human deaths, and my father in his own way genuinely wanted to prevent that.”

My heart breaks. There were no words of encouragement or terms of endearment. No cuddles or throwing balls around.

“No,” he admits sadly. “I didn’t have a normal family. It was just my brothers and me.” He takes a deep, cleansing breath, running a hand back through his hair. “Which is why losing the relationship I had with Marc is so difficult. The three of us boys held each other up. We protected one another from our father. But more importantly, we protected one another from the Council and the outside world that wanted to do us harm.”

His hand lands on my cheek. “In a strange way I’m grateful to my father for preparing me for this life. I wish things could’ve been different, but that’s not the world we live in.”

I scoot closer to him, raising my chin and willing him to kiss me. I need the connection as much as I think he does. I want to convey how much I care for him, and how badly I wish things could’ve been different for him.

He chuckles. “You’re right, we really do you need to work on your ability to block me out.”

I groan. “Please tell me it’s something easy.”