Page 3 of Unleashed

“Your mother has already left the hospital.” The woman on the other end of the line has a weird pitch to her voice. Is it pity?

Did my mom die?

“We’re actually calling because we need you to come get the baby.”

Okay… maybe I’m not as awake as I thought. Did this chick just say I need to come get a…

“Baby?” I pinch my leg, just to make sure I’m not still passed out.

Nope. Hurt like fuck.

“Right. The baby your mother delivered. She said you would be adopting it.”

I laugh, loudly, because this can’t be real. “Are you telling me my mom had a baby?”

“Were you not aware?” The woman clearly doesn’t know how very unaware I prefer to be when it comes to my mother’s dealings. “Because she was very specific that you were the one responsible for the baby.”

How in the hell does she think I’m going to be responsible for a baby?

Actually, I know the answer to that. My mother doesn’t really care if I’m responsible enough to handle a baby. As long as she doesn’t have to do it, that’s all that matters to her. Taking care of me was a giant pain in her ass and really cramped her choice of lifestyles, so it’s not surprising she doesn’t have any interest in doing that with another kid.

To be fair, I don’t have any interest in her doing it with another kid either. That’s got to be why I find myself asking, “What happens if I don’t come get the baby?”

“She would be placed in foster care until your mother is in a position to care for her. Or she could simply choose to place her up for adoption.” The woman sounds hesitant. Like she doesn’t necessarily want to tell me the rest. “But I will be honest with you, babies like your sister generally aren’t as easy to place.”

“What does that mean?” I always thought infants were the easiest to find adoptive parents for. People want something tiny and cute and relatively trauma free.

“Frequently, there is some caution around children who were exposed to drugs during development. They tend to be more difficult as babies and can frequently have physical disorders and developmental delays.”

I stare across my tiny studio apartment. The one I chose because it was the most inexpensive place I could find, hoping it might help me save money for the future. The future I was determined would look very, very different from my past.

But this baby—my sister—could face the same sort of childhood I had. One marred by neglect and abandonment. Our mother wasn’t capable of taking care of me. She’s certainly not capable of taking care of a child who needs more.

The same thing could happen if the baby goes into foster care. She could get passed around from house to house as people get tired of making sure she has what she needs.

I know what it’s like when someone is tired of making sure you have what you need. How confusing it is when the person who’s supposed to protect and nurture you is gone for days, leaving you with half a jar of expired peanut butter and a loaf of molding bread.

I don’t know the first thing about being a parent—or even a sister—but I do know I’m not the kind of person who walks away when shit gets tough. I might not be able to keep this baby in the lap of luxury, but I would never abandon her or pass her off because she’s too much effort.

And I sure as heck won’t risk our mother ruining her life the way she ruined mine.

Taking a deep breath, I silently curse my mother for fucking me over yet again, then say, “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

1

Trevor

Ifucking hate weddings.

Probably because I’m a miserable prick. Because, objectively, I should love them. I get to dress up. Look nice without everybody acting like it’s a fucking crime to care about the state of my skin. I get to eat good food, drink good wine, and enjoy live music. Plus, since my circle is limited, I get to do all that with my family.

By all accounts, days like this should be some of my favorites. Instead, I’m counting down the minutes until it’s socially acceptable for me to leave so I can go check my email without catching shit.

“Don’t they look good together?” My mother sits next to me, expression wistful as she watches my younger brother and his new wife slow dance next to the outrageously expensive pool he built her.

I tip back a swallow of bourbon, hoping it will take the edge off. Even though the last three glasses didn’t. “Yup.”

I don’t know what else to say. Of course they look good together. Brooke is gorgeous and brilliant, and Toby has loved her unconditionally for over a decade. Today is probably the best day of their lives up to this point.