Ryland
The past couple hours had moved slow as hell, mostly because my mind was on a loop with the possibilities of every terrible thing that could be happening on repeat.
I loved my parents. Even if I didn’t speak to them daily and only saw them a couple times a year because my schedule was so insane, I could always count on them being there.
Always. Fucking. There. So if they needed me, I’d be there.
Maybe they had a daughter I wasn’t aware of.
One who, for whatever reason, they’d kept secret from me but it wouldn’t matter.
If they said this woman was my sister, that’s exactly what she would be.
I owed them a debt that could never be repaid, even if they assured me no debt existed.
In my heart and mind I believed otherwise and my life was indebted to them.
They raised, loved, and supported me simply because they wanted.
Their presence in my life said a lot considering the woman who should have been there chose not to be.
My life changed when I was fourteen years old.
Miranda and Orlando Tyler made the decision to adopt an unruly kid who needed stability, structure, and to be seen.
I lived with them for two years when the asked how I felt about making our situation permanent.
On my fourteenth birthday, they filed the paperwork requesting to become my legal guardians.
They became the most consistent and stable forces in my life.
Children were born into families without the understanding of how those families could help or hinder them.
I didn’t learn the difference until I earned a spot on my middle school football team and Orlando became my coach.
He saw something in me that I felt but never shared because no one ever cared.
Football was my thing. I was damn good at it and destined to be something great with the right support system.
Felicia Parks, the woman who’d brought me into this world, was not that.
She cared for me in a general sense and I appreciated the bare minimum she gave, but she wasn’t a parent.
At least not the type suited for the job.
Felicia kept a roof over our heads, made sure I had food in my stomach and clothes on my back, but that was the extent of what she was capable of. She never nurtured or showed interest in me. Felicia damn sure never encouraged my dreams of being anything other than a responsibility she didn’t want.
She wasn’t cruel, abusive, or harsh. She would have had to pay enough attention to acknowledge me to be those things. Felicia didn’t. There were no fun memories of laughing and smiling with my mother. No weekend fun, no birthdays or holidays.
We lived in the same house for years and I barely remembered her ever talking to me. From as young as a toddler, what I remembered was her caring for me in a way that made sure I had what I needed but never made me feel loved.
I never truly understood what it meant to have a family until I moved in with the Tylers.
The first couple weeks were such a huge adjustment because I did my best to stay out of their way.
I spent most of my time tucked away in my room, even when they offered for me to join them for dinner, TV time, hanging out.
It wasn’t until Miranda came into my room one day and asked if I was unhappy and wanted to go back to live with Felicia that I fully understood what having a family meant.
Miranda and Orlando wanted to spend time with me whereas Felicia basically ignored me.
Miranda was floored when I expressed what my life was like living with Felicia and assured me things would be different with them. Slowly but surely I became a part of their lives and allowed them to be part of mine.
They were my family, the only family I had before being drafted to the Sharks. So again, I couldn’t imagine life without them.
It was almost midnight when I pulled up to my parents’ house.
As I sat in my rental in the driveway, I smiled as a rush of memories flooded my mind.
Senior year, when we teepeed the house as a prank, because regardless of me being the coach’s son, I was a football player.
Sophomore year when I crashed into the garage by putting the car in reverse instead of drive while learning and thought I knew everything.
Then there was Christmas break of my freshman year in college when I used my parents credit card to fly home for one day because I was so damn homesick I couldn’t fucking sleep at night.
This house held so many memories for me.
I laughed, shaking my head as I eased out of the driver’s seat of the rental, grabbed my bag from the back, and headed to the door, only for it to be thrown open.
I was greeted by my father who blocked my entry with a scowl on his face and his arms locked over his chest.
I almost laughed because my dad was a big guy—six-three, easily two twenty, and still in fairly decent shape although his age showed with a bit of extra cushion around his stomach and the salt and pepper goatee and mustache.
His bald head gave him a bit of edge. While I used to be intimidated by his stature and that same scowl he sent my way now, it had been years since I’d felt any type of intimidation.
“You’re in the middle of playoffs, Land.”
I grinned. “I know. So if you want to let me in, we can get this talk out the way and I can catch a flight in the morning to make sure Coach doesn’t kick my ass for missing practice.”
He grunted and stepped out of the way, allowing me space to enter. As soon as the door was locked again, he closed the space between us and pulled me into a hug. “Your mother’s gonna be pissed.”
I glanced toward the stairs and he smirked.
“Don’t get scared now.”
“I’m not.”
He chuckled and started toward the kitchen with me behind him after I dropped my duffle near the stairs.
“She asleep?”
“No, she’ll be down. I asked her to give me a minute with you first.”
I filled one of the stools that lined the island.
My father moved to the refrigerator and removed a water for himself and one from the pantry for me, remembering I preferred mine room temperature.
He also wrapped his hand around the bottle of Black Ops along with two glasses, which had me anxiously brushing a hand over my head.
“That bad?”
He nodded and placed everything on the island. I reached for the water first, downing half the bottle while he went for the Black Ops and poured two fingers in each glass, pushing one my way.
“Drink it.”
“Pops…” I frowned and he pointed to the glass.
“Drink it, Land.”
I sighed and did as he asked. We emptied our glasses, which he immediately refilled. When he tossed his second back, I did the same. He returned the bottle to the cabinet, rinsed the glasses, and cracked his water open.
“So what’s this deal about me having a sister? Did you guys have a daughter before you adopted me that I don’t know about for some reason?”
I could see how they would be mysterious about having a child they’d possibly put up for adoption.
Maybe she found them and they were building a relationship.
I understood how that might cause problems considering they’d adopted and raised me.
Maybe my presence in their lives was some type of way to seek redemption.
My mind turned over a million and one possibilities until my father laughed, as if that were somehow humorous.
It wasn’t. The only other alternative was that my mom was pregnant now, and nah, fuck that.
I knew how they got down, more than I wanted to because shit happened sometimes, but my parents having a kid in their fifties didn’t seem like a great idea.
Was that why he wanted to talk to me first, to prepare me for seeing my mother pregnant?
“You’re our only child, so no.”
I frowned hard, trying to make sense of what the issue was until the worst possible scenario came to mind. While they were my chosen parents, she was my biological one. I narrowed my eyes and my father nodded confirmation that I’d reached the understanding of how I had a sister.
“She had another kid?”
My father sighed and slipped his hands into the pockets of his sleep pants. “She did. Your sister Rylee. She’s six.”
I sat stiff, stunned, pissed, and confused.
Why the hell would this woman have another child when she didn’t want kids?
Or maybe she just didn’t want me. Hell, she gave me away without batting an eye.
Orlando offered to take on the expense of sending me to football camp because I had potential to be something great.
He also agreed to be responsible for getting what I needed and making sure I was at camps, practices, and training.
My mother saw the Tylers as an opportunity to remove the one part of her life she never wanted, being a parent. She suggested that Orlando keep me.
“It’s never just one camp, right? If you think he’s going to do something with this, it will take a lot. More than I can do. Why don’t you just keep him? I mean, you can do that, right? Like if I agree to let you have him?”
I shook away the thought.
“Is she okay?”
Is she happy, is she alone, is she unhappy…
I knew what having my mother as a parent felt like. Was my sister experiencing that now? Was that why I was here? Had Felicia given my sister away too…
“She’s okay.” He smiled and I relaxed.
“She here? Is that what this is about? She gave her to you?”
“No. She didn’t give Rylee to us. She left her,” my mother said from behind me. I threw a glance over my shoulder, frowning because I know like fuck she didn’t say what I thought she said.
“What the hell do you mean she left her?”