It’s Always Us (Abandoned Brothers #3)

Chapter 46

MARK

The fluorescent lights cast a horrendous haze, and the buzz matches my vibrating insides. I could vomit. It might make me feel better, but it would show weakness, and there’s no room for that today.

I hear the shuffling of feet and the clank of metal. My heart pounds so hard it pulses in my ears. I rest my hands on my thighs underneath the table, wiping the sweat on my jeans.

A shadow forms in the doorway, and I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it’s not the woman slinking into the small, abrasive room.

The officer pulls out the metal chair, and my mom slides in, not raising her eyes from the floor. I stare at her. Her thick, gray roots are a distinct contrast to the rest of her dark brown hair. Her eyes are sunken in, and her skin a strange tint of gray.

I try to reconcile this woman to the one from my horrific childhood—the one who drank or drugged herself into becoming nonexistent.

Somehow, in the place where I thought I’d feel rage, I find pity or empathy, maybe. For the first time, I wonder what demons possess her that this has been her chosen or destined path. Who would choose this?

I want to believe it wasn’t a choice. Maybe it’ll make this easier to bear.

My eyes wander over the woman who birthed me but provided nothing more. Strangely, I’m overcome with gratitude for the life I’ve found and that I didn’t end up in the pit of hell chained to substances and a prisoner to my own self-destructive habits.

“It’s been a long time.” I will my voice to hold strong and steady. She doesn’t move or even acknowledge I spoke. I fold my hands together on top of the table, unwilling to play the silent game. “I never expected to see you again. I sure as hell never expected to have a sister.” Nothing. “Where’s her father?”

I want to know if there’s anyone I need to worry about. I know we don’t share one since mine ended up dead in a ditch after a heroin overdose not long after I was taken away.

Still nothing. My temper revs. “You can either tell me, or I can hire someone to find out. Either way, I’m going to make sure she’s safe.”

Her eyes tip up to mine, harsh and cold, but her chin stays tucked. “He’s . . . not involved.”

I want to ask what exactly that means, but if he’s not a concern, then I really don’t care. “I heard you don’t want me to be her guardian.”

“You’ll take her from me. I can’t . . . handle that. She’s not yours.”

“You think having her sent to some stranger’s home where who knows what can and will happen to her is better? Because let me tell you, I’ve done that, and that shit you hear is real. If you’re dreaming of a life that destroys her, keep this up.”

Her head finally comes up. “She’s all I have.”

I scratch my jaw. “Then you put her first. If you love her, and I’ve heard you do, you put her first.”

“I’ve always put her first. That’s why I left her with Alex when I tried to find you.”

“Is that what you were doing when you decided to get back into the business? Is that what you were thinking when you were cutting, lining, injecting, and selling yourself on the other side of the wall from her? How about when you were bringing every kind of danger into your apartment? Did you even think about what could happen to Bree?” Nothing. “What if they’d come looking for you when they didn’t get paid on time or were desperate to score their next hit? What if they took Bree?”

I sit back in my chair, my skin prickling with sweat. “Does any of that sound like putting her first?”

“I know I wasn’t any kind of mother to you, but I’ve been a good one to Bree.”

“That may be so, but right now is when it matters. You and I both know you aren’t getting out of here any time soon.” I lean forward, needing her to hear me loud and clear. “Don’t punish her because you can’t handle the fact that you never once did anything to protect me. You can punish yourself all you want, but don’t you dare punish that little girl.”

She doesn’t move, but a single tear drips down her rough, sunken-in cheek.

I take a breath and let it out. “Lex and I are a family. We could have been a family years ago. You won’t take that from me again. Let Bree be a part of that. I’ll fight if I have to, and I can guarantee you won’t win.”

A new confidence blazes within me. I wait until she meets my eyes. “You put her first before. Do it again.”

I’ll give her that. She let Bree go before, when she knew she couldn’t be who she needed to be.

I take a second to reel myself in and ask what I’ve wondered since the night Cal called Lex. “Why are you here? Why now?”

She stares at the wall behind me. A damp streak is still evident on her cheek. Just when I’m about ready to give up, her soft voice surprises me.

“Seeing you, facing you, has been my single greatest fear. And also my biggest dream come true.” She sniffs as another tear escapes. “I’m weak. Fear won out.” She finally meets my eyes. “I know what I am. What I did to you and what I didn’t do for you.”

I want to tell her she has no idea because she was stoned out of her mind, but I keep my mouth shut.

“There is no punishment that will ever be greater than the regret and guilt I carry for . . . ” Her voice breaks. “Not being any kind of mother to you. I’ve lived with that every day and watched you become everything you never should have been because of me.” She leans forward, bringing her cuffed hands to her face. “I . . . I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

I want it to mean something, but it doesn’t right now. There’s a flicker of hope in me that someday it will.

“I have an amazing family,” I say softly. “Filled with so much love, it’s unbearable sometimes. Let me give her that.”

“I can’t let you take her away from me.” It’s a knife to the gut. “She’s all I have.”

“Let me give her what you can’t.”

She wipes her face with her hands. “She’ll forget about me.”

I choose my words carefully, knowing their meaning will strike, but I need them to. “Believe me, she couldn’t forget about you even if she tried.” She blinks her tears away to lock eyes with me. “Let her hold on to the good memories.”

I give it a second, and then I stand. I take one last look at my mother, unable to think about how things might have been different. I move to the door, but I hear her say my name and stop as it rips something wide open in my chest.

“Do you think there’s a chance . . . you could ever forgive me?”

There’s a burn in my throat that’s so severe I have to breathe through it.

I stare at the woman who dragged me into this world, knowing it was most definitely not by choice. I tell her the only truth I know. “My entire life has been nothing but hope and chances. A chance to escape my circumstances and the hell I lived in. A chance with coaches and teams. A chance with the woman of my dreams, and I was damn lucky to get more than one with her.” I meet my mother’s dark, bloodshot eyes. “I believe in chances, but there will never be one if you don’t help yourself.”

I take a step back, needing distance. “But don’t do it for me. Do it for Bree. She deserves to have what neither of us ever did.”

Her hand goes over her mouth as tears spill over the black circles surrounding her sunken eyes. “Sign those papers . . . Mom.”