Chapter 6
SIX
“Okay, so I’ll be back in two days to check in. For a little while, you’ll hear from me quite a lot.” He says it like it’s no big deal, but it has me sweating. Not only because I have no fucking clue what I’m doing, but because he makes me feel...
I don’t really understand how the hell he makes me feel.
And I don’t have time to really examine that right now. I have four hungry, angry kids spread around the house, who are going to eat me alive. I knew they’d be mad at me for being gone for so long. They should be.
But the seething rage they’re all currently directing at me is not pretty, and I don’t know how to make it any better. I walk with Phillip out to the front porch, the one that needs a lot of work, so I quickly lead him down the steps to stand at the bottom.
“I know you think you can’t do this...” he starts, and even though he’s not wrong, my body immediately goes into defensive mode, my hackles up. “But you can.” He says it so firmly, I almost believe him. My eyes lock on his, and for a moment I’m kind of stuck, just looking into his green eyes like a creeper. His pink tongue pokes out between his red, full lips, and I realize way too late that I’m tracking the movement as he licks his bottom lips.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“You don’t even know me,” I say dumbly.
He just shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. I’m really good at my job, remember?” His lips go up in this cute little smirk— cute? Since when are guys’ smirks cute? Jesus. Fuck. “I know people. I’m good at reading them,” he continues.
“And you think I’m not a fuckup?” I test.
His smile only grows. “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.” He winks at me. Winks . With his face lit up with a smile, and wow... my heart does this strange fluttery thing, and my gut tightens.
I don’t know what’s going on with me. “Um...” My throat is suddenly dry, and I have to clear it several times to get more words out. “I’ll see you in two days then.”
He just smiles, heading toward the van and holding his cell phone out. “I left some papers on the counter in the kitchen. My card is in there with my cell number. If you need anything, let me know.”
He stops by the van’s driver-side door, his eyes locking on mine again. That weird heart thing happens again, and man, maybe I need to get that checked out. As if there’s time or money for that.
“I’ll text you some resources, and I’ll be in touch.”
I nod my head dumbly, and he only smiles, climbing into the van and then taking off. I stand there like a total idiot, just staring after the van and trying to get my body and my head straight.
I stand out there, realizing I don’t want to go back in. I can hear the kids fighting and running around inside. How the hell am I going to do this?
I pull out my phone to text Tatum.
Me: You free?
He answers immediately.
Tatum: The gatekeeper gone?
I grin at my phone—but also feel this odd need to defend Phillip. I know he’s only doing his job, but honestly, how many social workers have I met over the years? They were just doing their jobs too, and I had no problem hating them.
Me: Yeah. Can you bring pizza?
Tatum: On it.
I put my phone back into my pocket and glance once more toward the street, where Phillip is long gone.
I take a deep breath and release it, trying like hell to go over everything I’ve learned in rehab, but failing pretty damn hard. It all sounds like empty noise in my head right now.
I open the door and see Braylen and Kieran running around the room, chasing each other. They’re laughing, so I think they’re good and not fighting. But who the hell knows? They head out into the backyard, still squealing and having a seemingly good time.
Raegan isn’t anywhere in sight, and I still don’t know what the hell happened there. I didn’t mean she’s too skinny—even though I kind of think she is. All of them are on the scrawny side, but it’s not their fault. I know exactly who I blame for that.
Cason is camped out on the couch though. Just waiting for me. “This isn’t going to work. You should just give up.”
“I don’t give up easily.”
“Bullshit,” he says and stands up, his eyes cold and angry as he approaches. “You gave up on us.”
“Cason,” I start, feeling that sick feeling twisting in my gut. Before I can even try to tell him how sorry I am again, knowing it’ll fall on deaf ears, there’s a knock at the door.
No way Tatum had time to get pizza already, but when I open the door, I see it is in fact him with no pizza. He grins at me and places a hand on my shoulder. “Relax. I ordered the pizza, but you sounded like you needed backup.”
I try really hard not to just sink to the floor, then and there, with relief. I hate that I’m so dependent on him, but after all this time together, he’s been my rock. “Thank you,” I say, desperation clawing at my insides because I want to use.
I hate that about myself. My mother—who I despise and am so damn angry at—she just died from addiction. She let it control her, and I hate that the same thing lives inside me.
“Breathe,” he says cautiously, his eyes on mine, and he knows. He knows how badly I want an escape.
I do as he says, and I take a deep breath in and then release it, but my eyes close in frustration as soon as I hear Cason’s voice. “Oh, is this the boyfriend?”
“Goddammit, Cason.” I open my eyes and glare at my brother over my shoulder.
“Ah, so you’re going to be the one to make it really fucking difficult on your brother, huh?” Tatum doesn’t sound bothered at all. “Can’t make it easy. Why would you want to do that?”
Cason is practically frothing at the mouth as Tatum walks in to approach him. He’s huge. I mean a really massive human, tall and a wall of muscle, and he towers over my little brother. But I don’t worry for even a second that he’ll hurt him. “Why should I?”
“Why shouldn’t you? He’s all you’ve got, kid.”
“Fuck you. You don’t know me, and just because you’re looking to get into my brother’s pants or already have or whatever you two have going on doesn’t mean you can talk to me however the hell you want.”
I shake my head and close the door, watching as Tatum walks closer to Cason. To Cason’s credit—and maybe a little bit to his detriment, he doesn’t flinch. “I’m not fucking your brother. I don’t swing that way, but I do care about your brother.” I swallow hard and watch Cason as he takes that in. “He was there for me in my darkest hour, when I was crying like a baby because I wanted another hit. He kept me strong.” Cason’s eyes darken, and I pray he just shuts his mouth. Thankfully, he does for the time being. “You don’t have to make it easy on him, but trust me on this one, your brother...”—he moves in even closer—“he can weather the storm, and he won’t give up on you, no matter how hard you push.”
Cason stands there, just staring up at Tatum, looking like he wants to kill him. But I also swear I see a hint of something else. Respect, maybe? “Whatever. Who talks like that about a dude who’s just his friend?”
“You really seem stuck on the whole boyfriend thing,” Tatum remarks. “You want to tell us something? Because I’m down with the rainbow, even if I’ve never dabbled in the same sex.”
Cason frowns deeply now, and I laugh, punching Tatum in the arm. “Stop.”
“What?” He shrugs, grinning wide. “I just want the kid to know he’ll be accepted, no matter what. And there’s no shame in liking dick.”
“Wow,” I say with a laugh and shake my head. He’s being an over-the-top asshole right now. Trying to rile up Cason, but I also know he means it. I have no idea how my brother identifies, but it doesn’t matter either way to me. I’ll never understand hating people because of who they love. Or are attracted to.
For some reason, Phillip pops into my head right then, and I don’t really know why. I’ve never been one to judge or guess anyone’s sexuality in any way before, but I can’t help wondering if he’s into men or women or both.
“Pizza will be here soon.” Tatum’s voice interrupts my wayward thoughts, and I realize Cason has left the room. “I ordered a shitload.”
I plop down on the couch and run my fingers through my hair. “Thank you.”
He sits down next to me, and even though I’m not looking at him, I can feel his worry. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks,” I say sarcastically, but he doesn’t laugh or joke.
“You going to be able to handle this?”
My entire body is rigid with tension and fear, but I still manage to look right into his eyes. “You just told my brother I can weather any storm.”
“And I meant it. But you don’t have to play it down for me. This is a lot.”
Goddamn him. I hate how well he knows me. Every part of me wants to fall apart, but I can’t do that right now. “I need to find furniture for them. Phillip said something about Facebook. I don’t even have Facebook.”
He pulls out his phone. “I’ve got you. What are we looking for?” He starts scrolling.
When we met, we were both in a bad way. And he may think I was his rock then, but he was the only thing keeping me sober there for a while. That and the hope that I could go and get my siblings. Give them a better life. He reminded me of that over and over.
He wasn’t the only one crying out for anything to numb the pain.
There were so many nights I thought I’d die if I didn’t get something in my system, but he was there. And no, we aren’t in love or dating. That would be really weird. Not because of what he has between his legs, but because he’s like a brother to me. He’s family.
“Bunk beds,” I say, trying to go over the things Phillip said earlier. “And a twin bed. A dresser and a desk.”
He nods. “Beds are priority, I think, right?”
I nod. “I don’t know how the hell I’m going to afford any of this.”
“Don’t worry, okay? We’ve got this.” He holds up his phone excitedly. “See? Ten dollars for a whole bunk bed because they want to get it gone.”
I look at the picture. They’re a little rough-looking but sturdy, I think. “Okay. That’s an amazing price.”
“Yeah. Rich people, man. It’s amazing what they’ll throw away just because they don’t want to deal. It’s only ten minutes from here. I’ll message them, and we can go pick it up in my truck later tonight, hopefully.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t sweat it.” He puts a heavy hand on my shoulder. “We’ve got this. You aren’t alone, and then, when we get the beds set up, we’re going to a meeting.”
“I need to get groceries too.”
“After the meeting. We can find a store that’s open twenty-four hours, so there’s no excuse.”
“Okay,” I agree. “Also, Raegan wants to burn your bed.”
He tosses his head back and cackles. “Come on. It’s not that bad. But the sheets, maybe.”
I grin, and we scroll through, finding a twin bed frame someone is giving away and then a cheap mattress place that has brand-new ones for a decent price. We set up pickup times, and the pizza gets delivered.
Raegan pretty much just picks at her food, and I’m worried this is going to be a problem, but I’m not going there again tonight. We’ll figure it out. Cason is quiet, which is odd, but I’m thankful. And the youngest boys are loud but not too bad.
After we eat, I tell the kids where we’re going, and they all wave me off, wandering about the house. I feel a little bad, leaving them, but Cason is fifteen. God knows he’s watched the kids on his own many times.
They’ll be okay for a couple of hours.
Tatum and I go and pick up the beds and three mattresses, dropping them all off in the living room before heading out again to go to a quick meeting.
I don’t speak during this one, it’s all too damn raw. But I listen. I listen to everyone talk and to the reminders. This too shall pass bullshit, which for some reason works.
After the meeting, we go to the grocery store, where I spend nearly my last dollar until payday buying things I hope they’ll eat and sheets for each bed, including Raegan’s.
I know they’ll need so much more than this, but one day at a time.
I can do this.
I have to do this.