Page 148 of Bound By Blood and Lies

“There’s my favourite little man,” he whispers.

The second he reaches toward Finn, Roman walks back into the lounge. And immediately stops dead. The atmosphere changes so quickly it almost gives me whiplash. He’s still holding his phone in one hand and a bowl of pineapple in the other, but all of his attention locks onto Finn. More specifically: Riggs reaching for Finn’s tiny hand.

Roman’s jaw twitches.

“No,” he says instantly.

Riggs freezes halfway as Atlas slowly looks up. Roman ends the call without even looking at his phone before tossing it onto the sofa beside me.

“I leave for five fucking minutes and suddenly everybody’s got their hands on him?”

“Roman,” I start carefully.

“No because I specifically removed him from Atlas,” he continues whilst stalking further into the lounge. “Why is he being passed around like a fucking rugby ball?”

Riggs immediately lifts both hands in surrender. “I haven’t even touched him yet.”

“You were about to.”

Roman’s eyes stay fixed on Finn the entire time and I can see the tension pulling through his shoulders from here. He takes another step toward Atlas and I inhale sharply.

“Roman,” I say loudly and his head snaps toward me. “Come here.”

His jaw shifts and I hate how overwhelmed he suddenly looks standing there. The bowl is clenched too tightly in one handas his breathing turns shallow, and his eyes dart straight back toward Finn the second they leave mine.

“I need you next to me, Ro.”

And it breaks my heart a little because I know him well enough to understand what I’m asking. Not just to walk away from Finn, but to ignore every instinct screaming through his body that is telling him to go and take our son back. His fingers tighten harder around the bowl before he finally forces himself to move and walk over to the sofa. He drops beside me with enough force that the cushions shift beneath him.

“Ro,” I murmur quietly as Riggs and Atlas start talking on the opposite side of the room.

I lift my feet to land across his legs and he wraps one hand around my ankles before massaging my foot. “He’s okay.”

“I know he’s okay,” he mumbles back in a tight voice. “I just don’t like people touching me. What if he’s like me and hates being touched?”

A sad understanding settles through me and so much of his behaviour over the years makes sense in a way it never fully has before. I always knew Roman hated being touched by people, I knew he tolerated it rather than enjoyed it, but I don’t think I realised how deep it went until now. With his HSAM he probably remembers all of it too. Every uncomfortable hug. Every hand on his shoulder. Every relative laughing and calling him dramatic when he pulled away from them as a kid. Back then he wouldn’t have had the words to explain why it made his skin crawl so badly, why the wrong touch could leave him overwhelmed for hours afterwards, and now Finn is here tiny and defenceless whilst Roman is trying to protect him from feelings he can’t even explain yet.

“Okay, well does he look like he’s not enjoying it?” I whisper.

“No, but he is too young to understand it yet.”

“So, if he gets to the age where he doesn’t like it, we can put a stop to it, Ro, okay? But right now, our family can cuddle him. It is okay.” I lean in and kiss his cheek.

He turns into it before whispering against my mouth, “And nobody washes their fucking hands properly.”

Despite everything, a smile tugs at my mouth. “There’s a simple solution to that.”

“What’s that?”

“Riggs,” I call.

His head immediately pops up from beside Atlas’ legs. “Yeah?”

“Can you go wash your hands please?”

Roman side-eyes me suspiciously like he knows exactly what I’m doing. Riggs blinks once before slowly pushing himself up off the floor.

“Do I get to hold Finn if I do?”