Chapter Twenty-Two

Jerry

May twenty-third.

My unofficial birthday.

Fuck my life.

I bury myself beneath the covers as my head pounds like there’s a forty-four-gallon drum bashing around inside. The thumping of my heart rushes to my ears. I’ve tried to resist the temptation of booze this last week, but I’ve been that moth to the temptress flame.

And today won’t be any different.

The day of my birth.

The day I was left on the steps of the Sugarloaf Bakery.

The day I’m not supposed to acknowledge for fear of the truth getting out.Fuck, I hate secrets.

A bark reverberates in my ears as a weight lands on the bed. Pirate’s wet nose dives beneath the covers and his tongue lashes at my face.Wait, who let you in?

“Jerry?” a soft voice calls out from the hall.

My lungs rattle with a cough as I sit up, straighten my wrinkled shirt, and gather the sheets at my waist.

“Yeah?”

Daynah walks in, rosy cheeks, a tall round container in hand. Her shiny dark hair hangs in loose waves around her shoulders. My heart fills with something warm and good at the sight of her.Goddamn, my sister is beautiful.

“I’m sorry. I thought you’d be up by now.”

I scrape my hands down my face, the long stubble itching against my palm.When was the last time I shaved?“What time is it?”

“Almost eleven.”

“Shit.”

She sits on the edge of the bed. “You okay?”

“Meh.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

My head lands back against the timber headboard with a thud, and I whine as I rub the point of impact. “Not really.”

Her knee bounces up and down as she fiddles with the package on her lap.

I tap the top of the container. “What do we have here?”

“Cake.”

Tears well in my eyes and my throat grows thick. “Cake? What kind of cake?”

A soft smile smooths over her lips, and she looks down at the container as if she can’t hold my gaze. “For your b-birthday.”

I swallow hard. Her eyes glisten and her bottom lip quivers.

“Hey.” I reach out and lift her chin with my index finger, forcing my sister to look at me. When our eyes connect, she shakes her head.