I took a step back and crossed my arms over my chest. From the corner of my eye, I saw Willa do the same. Her protective streak was a mile wide right now and I fucking loved it. It felt almost as good as it had when her parents had called me family this morning.
I wouldn’t ever be an official member of the Doon family, but like I’d done with my foster families, I’d get to claim them for a time. That was good enough for me. They were a hell of a lot better than the woman standing in front of me.
“What’s it going to take to get you to leave and stay away for good?”
“Just assume I want somethin’?” She frowned. “What if I was here to stay?”
“You wouldn’t be welcome.”
Her face turned down, like she was hurt that I didn’t give her a hug, a kiss and a Hey, Mom, I missed ya!
As she stood there, looking like the victim, my temper roared. Feelings I’d kept buried deep for years were boiling to the surface. I clamped my arms across my chest, keeping my arms and fists pinned. I didn’t trust myself with this much anger rolling through my bloodstream. The only thing keeping me composed was Willa and my desire to get some answers.
“Seems like a waste of time to track me down,” I told her. “You could have found me a long time ago. Instead, you dumped me with a damn stranger and never looked back.”
“Oh, please.” She waved me off. “My sister, your own aunt, is hardly a stranger. Don’t act like I abandoned you. You were with your family while I had to take care of a few things.”
I scoffed. “Yeah. I was with family. For. A. Week. Then this family dumped me too. When you drove off to take care of these things of yours, did you at least look back once or twice in your rearview? I can’t remember. I do remember your sister—my own aunt—didn’t look back. Not once. Aunt Marie didn’t even get out of the car when she dropped me off at social services. Nope. Just pulled up to the curb and told me not to forget my backpack.”
I waited, hoping for a flash of surprise or remorse to cross Mom’s face, but it never came. “I didn’t know she would do that.”
“No,” I said through gritted teeth. “You were long gone by then. So back to my original question. What the fuck is it going to take for you to leave Lark Cove and my life for good?”
Because then I could block it all out.
I’d forget about that scared little boy who stood outside the social services building all day until finally, a social worker came outside to ask if he was lost.
I hadn’t been lost, just left behind.
Lost came later as I moved from foster house to foster house, never once finding a home. All because this woman had things to take care of.
“Forget it,” I clipped. She wasn’t sorry. She didn’t care. There would be no answer for me today.
As of now, she was dead to me.
“Let’s go, Willa.” I turned to leave but stopped at the sound of a new voice.
“Mom?”
I froze as Willa gasped. There was no question which motel room that voice had come from or who it was addressing.
I turned around slowly, facing my mother just as a boy emerged from the motel room. But he wasn’t just a boy. He was her kid.
What the actual fuck? She had another kid? She’d left me to fend for myself at nine years old, then she’d had another son.
The boy stood by Mom’s side, staring right at me before he whispered, “Is that him?”
Mom threw her arm around his shoulders. “Yep. This is your big brother, Jackson.”
“Hey.” The kid smiled like he’d been waiting his entire life to meet me.
I stared at him with a slack jaw. Was this why she’d come here? To introduce me to my younger brother?
I had no idea how old he was, maybe eleven or twelve, like some of the kids at Willa’s camp. What I did know was that his jeans were four inches too long and his sweatshirt would have fit me better than it did him. Why was he wearing such baggy clothes? Couldn’t Mom afford ones in his size?
He didn’t look a thing like her—or me for that matter. The only similarity I had with her was light hair and the color of our blue eyes. He didn’t even have that. His skin was darker, like his dad had been African-American. His eyes were a rich brown and his curly black hair was cropped short.
My half-brother.
The kid stepped forward, away from Mom, and held out a hand. “I’m Ryder.”
Ryder? This just kept getting better.
“Ryder?” I huffed, ignoring the kid and glaring at Mom. “Are you fucking joking? You named him Ryder? Did you forget that you already used that for my middle name?”
The kid flinched, but I kept my glare on Mom.
She shrugged it off, staring at me with complete indifference.
I hated her. Jesus, fuck, but I hated her. The tension on the sidewalk was stifling, making the cool fall air heavy and hot.
The kid shifted his weight back and forth as his extended hand dropped slowly along with his eyes. But before he could shrink away, Willa stepped up and caught his hand, returning the handshake that had been meant for me.
“Um . . . hi, Ryder. I’m Willa.”
He gave her a shaky smile as they shook but then looked right back to me with big, brown, hopeful eyes.
I recognized that hope—I’d had that same look once.
After Mom and my aunt dumped me, I’d longed for someone to welcome me with open arms. I’d needed someone to accept me. But the people in the first foster home hardly paid me any attention. They only kept me for a month. The next home was the same, though they kept me for two months. The third let me stay a week.
And each time I packed up my backpack, hope faded.
I wouldn’t be the guy to take that from this kid, so I held out my hand. “Hey, Ryder. I’m Jackson. Nice to meet you.”
“You too.” He shook my hand with a bright smile, then let it go. “Mom told me about you.”
About what? She didn’t even know me. I looked over his head to see Mom looking bored.
“Is this why you came?” I asked her. “For a family reunion?”
“Ryder, give me a minute with Jackson.” Mom stepped farther out onto the sidewalk, nodding for Ryder to go back into the room. “And shut the door.”
“Okay,” he mumbled. He gave me another smile before going inside and closing the door.
“How old is he?” I asked Mom before she could talk.
“Twelve.”
“Twelve,” I repeated, shaking my head. After I’d spent my entire childhood needing a mother, she’d found it in herself to become one to someone else.
“So is he why you came to find me?”
She nodded. “Need you to take him for a while.”
The disgust tasted worse in my mouth than my hangover breath. My mother was disgusting. Simply disgusting.
She’d tracked me down after all these years to pawn off another one of her kids.
“You want me to take him?” I asked. “Are you serious?”
“You’re his only family and he’s a good kid. He won’t give you any trouble.”
A memory came rushing back of the day she’d left me at Aunt Marie’s. Mom had said those exact same words about me.
“So you came to pawn him off on me. Does he know?” Was that why he’d looked at me like I was his salvation?
Mom shook her head. “Thought it would be best to tell him together.”
“Of course, you did,” Willa said dryly. “You always put the needs of your children first.”
“This ain’t your business,” Mom snapped at her.
“Why?” I asked before Willa could respond. “I want a reason why you’re leaving him here.”
“That ain’t your business either. But you either take him or he’s on his own.”
What choice did I have? She’d backed me into a corner, piling all of this on my conscience so that if Ryder went into the system, I’d feel guilty.
“You’re a fucking bitch.” The words were cathartic.
Mom rolled her eyes. “Now you sound like your granddaddy.”
“Too bad I didn’t get to meet him. I think we would have had a lot in common.”
“You gonna take Ryder or not?” She was getting flustered, the color in her cheeks rising.
“How did you even find me?”
She shrugged. “Wasn’t that hard. Hired a guy to track you down online with your social security number.”
Because she’d needed a place for my brother. I bet she had a backpack all loaded up for Ryder, just like she’d done with me.