Page 18 of Finding Hope

Her and Bean – Lucy to the rest of the world – might be the biggest trouble makers I’ve ever met. Cousins, three years apart, they have a constant rivalry going.

Put them in an octagon together, and they’ll probably kill each other. Put them in an octagon versus some other poor soul, and they’ll own them.

No one picks on them except each other. Anyone else is just asking for a slow and painful death.

Swinging the front door open, I roll my eyes at Bobby’s feral glare. “God. What, B? It’s too early for that face. If you’re not careful, the wind will change and my sister will dump your ass for being so ugly.”

When I turn to walk away, Bobby grabs my shoulder and spins me back. The second our eyes meet again, his solid fist slams down over my jaw and sets bells off in my brain.

Muscle memory has my arms coming up instantly, and my feet – drugged, drunk, exhausted – still snap into fight stance. “What the fuck?”

“Where were you this morning?”

“In bed! Where the fuck do you think I was?”

“I know where youweren’t, asshole! You weren’t at my daughter’s birthday party!”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

“What was so important that you missed Em’s party?”

I shrug and adopt the only defense I have; arrogance. Because I’m a selfish asshole. “Sorry, got busy, I guess.”

Bobby’s nostrils flare only a second before his fist strikes out.

I see it coming this time, but I don’t stop it. I deserve it.

“You’re never too busy for family, Jack. Never!” He looks at me the way heneverdid before this year. “Get your filthy ass in the shower. Wash your latest slut off. Then go and apologize to my daughter. Apologize to your sister while you’re at it.”

Storming back off my porch and stomping down my stairs in an air of fucking rage, Bobby leaves my yard and moves back toward his – to the pink streamers and party balloons I would’ve noticed if I wasn’t such a selfish asshole.

Fuck.

Since I woke up in the hospital, brought back to this world without my permission, back to a world without Steph in it, I’ve been so busy hating everyone that my siblings’ initial sympathy and help has turned to fed-up impatience.

And I can’t even blame them.

They were by my side every single day. They helped speed along my discharge, then got me back into my own home when I demanded it. They helped me attend Steph’s funeral when I could barely walk. My sister literally pushed my wheelchair when I was too weak to stand, then she helped me home again, even after I’d made a fool of myself.

She waited on me hand and foot, even though she had three small children at home, and when she couldn’t, my other sisters stepped up.

Where Jenny The Bitch couldn’t hold my weight, my brothers did it instead… even in the shower.

The same man that just cold-cocked me has seen me at my most vulnerable, and this is how I repay him.

Because I’m a selfish asshole.

In and out of the shower in a matter of minutes, I dart across the yard and sweep my niece into my arms with an aching jaw and a heart of lead.

The adults glare. They stand by the almost empty food table, clearing dishes and hating my guts, but Emma – who looks just like her mommy – giggles and wraps her still chubby arms around my neck like I’m the prodigal son returned.

I might be bitter at the world, but the kids don’t understand all that. They just see Uncle Jack, and they bring me back to happiness, every single time.

Jon and Tink’s twin boys race around my feet, and the older kids try to tackle me and pull me to the grass. Evie tries – almost successfully – to bring me down, because rolling in the grass is what Uncle Jack is best at.

Ignoring her cousins, Emma’s small hands frame my face, and her brows pull low in a frown. “You’re late, Uncle Jack.”

I kiss her nose. “I’m sorry, baby. Uncle Jack is sorry. I…”Forgot.

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