Page 64 of Angel

My daughter. Not our daughter. Angel had not given Cage claim to Bree with a single word.

Aaron quickly wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up. “Hey, Bree. It’s really great to meet you.”

He approached her and Bree wondered if he planned to kneel in front of her. Since being confined to her chair, she’d picked up on the different ways two-leggers, her own word for walking people, treated those in wheelchairs.

The first was to completely and utterly ignore them. If she couldn’t walk, she didn’t exist.

Next was the pity squat. They come down to her height but they did so with this look of pity that made her want to slap them. Like they were doing her this great favor by stooping to her level.

And then there was the bend. When they remained standing and bent over her like they were staking their dominance because they were taller and abled.

Aaron, however, did none of those. He remained at his full height, which nearly matched Cage’s, and held his hand low to her.

Bree studied his face for a moment to see if he actually meant his words. He looked like he did, but maybe he was just a really good actor? When she saw Cage and Angel exchange a worried look that she was leaving Aaron hanging, Bree reached forward and took his hand. “You too.” She tried to make her voice sound even and pleasant. She wasn’t sure she succeeded. “You’re moving in?”

“Yeah, as soon as my dad gets custody of me.”

Bree flinched at the word. She didn’t mean to. Normally ‘dad’ didn’t bother her. Still, it was close enough and she was already feeling…out of sorts that it got to her.

Noticing her reaction, Aaron took a step back. “If you’re not okay with me here?—”

“It’s not that,” Angel quickly insisted. She squatted down next to Bree. For some reason, Bree had never minded Angel lowering herself down to speak with her. Maybe because she never acted like it was a hardship. She made it seem natural. “Do you need a minute?”

Bree shook her head. She was grateful Angel had picked up on her distress, but also grateful that Angel hadn’t noticed her other unrest.

Cage stepped up behind Aaron. “I’m sorry, Bree. I wasn’t thinking?—”

“It’s fine,” she said quickly. The last thing she wanted was for Cage to get mad at her. What if he decided that he didn’t want two teenagers to take care of? What if he decided, now that he had Aaron, that he didn’t want Bree too. “Really. I’m fine.”

No one, not even Aaron, looked like they believed her.

Angel turned Bree’s chair so she was facing her rather than Aaron and Cage. “Want to try that again? This time with the truth.”

Bree’s cheeks heated. “Really, Mom, I’m fine. If that’s what he wants to call Cage, then it’s fine with me.”

“Hey!” Bree’s head automatically turned at the loud voice. Cage didn’t look mad, but he did have a scowl on his face. “I’m Pops, remember, kid?” He pointed to his own chest. “And you have every right to feel comfortable and safe in this house. If it bothers you to have Aaron call me ‘Dad’ then you can ask him nicely to also call me ‘Pops’.”

Bree swallowed. Cage had never spoken to her like that before. Like…a dad. In a weird way, it was comforting.

Softly, Aaron asked Cage, “What’s wrong with the word ‘dad’?” He glanced between Cage, Angel, and Bree.

Bree cleared her throat. “Angel isn’t my bio-mom. She adopted me after I was rescued by the club. I was held for two years by a pedophile who insisted I call him Da—” The strength in her voice broke and she flinched. Bree slammed her eyes closed and had to internally count backwards from ten. It’s just a word, she reminded herself. A word cannot hurt me. “Who insisted I call him ‘Daddy’,” she forced herself to finish as if she hadn’t had to take a moment to get herself under control. Bree opened her eyes to look at Aaron, who had gone pale. “For obvious reasons, that word is a trigger towards my anxiety.”

“Well…shit,” was all Aaron said.

Bree was tempted to tell him about the swear jar. “I have no right to ask you not to call Cage your…dad,” she forced out the word, “but it’s close enough that sometimes it also triggers me.”

“Hey, I have no issue calling him ‘Pops’. I’m not here to cause you problems or to make you feel uncomfortable in your own home, Bree. I am— Hell, it sounds so pathetic in comparison, but I came here to beg for a safe home. My bio-mom is trying to force me to go to a conversion camp since I came out of the closet.”

Bree tipped her head to the side. “You’re gay?”

He nodded. The kid was six feet and was clearly a jock. It sounded bad, especially coming from her, but he didn’t look gay. But her jealousy was slowly being replaced with sympathy. When Cage had told her about his possible kid, he’d said that he would be sixteen by now.

Bree pursed her lips. “Are you going to be going to school with me?”

Aaron looked to Cage, clearly not having an answer for her.

“Yes,” Cage told her. “Not right away since we have to figure out custody. I’ve got a call in with a lawyer who is filing a petition as we speak for emergency custody due to child endangerment. We’ll know more hopefully soon, but once he’s ours permanently, he’ll be going to school with you, Ollie, and Scotty.”

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