Page 182 of Finding Hope

But tonight, three hours after being announced winner, I find myself freshly showered, topped up on Advil to ease the pain throbbing all over my body, and my fresh cast laid out on the bed in my penthouse suite while my nieces and nephews draw all over it.

Their color choices lean toward pink and purple, and though I could claim that it’s because they’re our gym colors, I know that’s a lie, seeing as most of the drawings are of flowers and hearts.

Roles have been reversed; I sat drawing on my sweet Evie’s cast when she was only three years old, and now almost a decade later, she lies in the crook of my arm with her head on my shoulder and her hair in my nose, quietly doodling with a pink marker.

She’s been on me like white on rice for weeks, more so the last week. She knows I’m sad about Bambie – though I have never, and would never, talk to her about that.

That’s grown-up shit, not for twelve-year-old girls to worry about.

“Here you go.” Quietly – and with a shyness I haven’t seen in my sister in forever – Kit steps forward with a filled-to-the-brim chocolate shake.

My fight’s over, which means I can eat shit again. Sitting on the edge of the bed close to my right arm, she quietly sips her own shake and pretends like she isn’t freaking out.

The awkward silence sucks the oxygen from the room and crushes my chest.

She fidgets – with her fingers, with her wedding band, with the straw in her shake – then with a heavy sigh, she spins and drops to the floor on her knees until her watery eyes meet mine. “I’m so sorry for not believing in you, Jack.”

I just nod. I’m not mad at her. “We’re okay.”

“Areyouokay?”

Not really.“She didn’t come.”

Sighing, because she’s the closest thing to a mom I’ve ever had, she runs her fingers over my forearm. “No, she didn’t.”

“I was going to marry her.”

“I know. I’m so sorry.” Breath hitching with empathy, she swipes a single tear away with her shoulder. “You seem…” She hesitates. “Well, sad, butdifferentto last time.”

Nodding, I squeeze Evie, because I know she’s listening. She wants to be a grown-up. She wants to be treated as one. She wants to be involved in grown-up discussions.

“I gotta stand on my own two feet, Kit. You’ve been saving me all my life, then like a kid of a divorced couple sharing custody, I was passed on to Steph. Then Bambie… I’ve been reliant and lazy my whole life. That’s a really crappy trait to have; not the kinda guy a woman would want to marry.”

“I think you’re a good catch. Any girl would be lucky to have you.”

“You have to say that,” I chuckle softly. “It’s definitely not what you were saying when I was fifteen and an assh– a delinquent.”

With that motherly smile she does, she admits, “You’re an acquired taste, I guess.” Sighing, she squeezes my arm. “But your heart, Jack, it’s so pure. So pure and so kind.”

I shrug and play with Evie’s hair.

“You did an amazing job tonight.”

I smirk. “Busted my arm on the first jab.”

“You’re such an idiot,” she snaps. “You should’ve stopped, not kept going.”

I shrug and pat Evie’s curls away from my face. “I think my career’s coming to an end, anyway. We already know my arm won’t hold out for much longer, so I had to keep going tonight. Had to set myself up so I’m not mooching off my sister anymore.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’d still have a job, dummy. You can still train others. Work in the gym.”

“We’d still pay you to wash the jock straps and mop the floors.” Wandering into the room, Bobby annoyingly grins and sips at his sissy shake.

Grabbing the TV remote off the bed, I toss it at his laughing face. “You can shut the hell up about fighting me, by the way. I proved my point.”

“You didn’t prove shit!” he argues. “Anyone could beat that sissy from tonight. Evie could beat him–”

“Yeah, I could.”

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