She really had.
She hadn't been the greatest mom. No one could dispute that. More than half the time, Roan was the one who got up with Liam in the middle of the night because she refused to get out of bed. In the beginning, Cassie had seemed willing to give the mothering thing a shot. A week in and Roan realized he would have to do more than simply monitor her. She started relying more and more on him to take care of Liam, and Roan had done what was natural. He'd taken care of the little boy knowing his sister wouldn't.
Roan fought the tears that were threatening as he pulled the lid off the formula can and got to work getting Liam's bottle ready. The little boy wouldn't be quiet for long.
Gannon appeared in the kitchen. "They'd like to talk to you." Gannon nodded toward Liam. "May I?"
Clearly Cam had given Gannon a heads-up, because he didn't seem at all surprised to see an infant in Roan's arms.
Roan knew he needed to deal with this, but he hated letting go of Liam. If he could, he would hold the boy forever, right there against his heart, keeping him safe and protected from the world. In just the few short weeks of his life, he'd had to endure so much. More than he should have.
"Sure," Roan said, reluctantly passing Liam over.
"He's tiny," Gannon said softly, his eyes warm as they roamed over Liam's small form. "So tiny."
Yeah. He was.
Gannon took him, gently cradling his head and situating him so he could handle the bottle.
"I'll sit here," Gannon told him, glancing over at the table.
"Okay."
Roan shook the bottle to mix the formula and water, then made sure the nipple was working. After handing it off to Gannon, he swallowed hard and steeled himself for dealing with the police.
Someone-likely Gannon-had kindly draped a sheet over Cassie's body. Roan kept his attention on the man standing in the doorway, otherwise, his knees would likely give out on him and he'd be in a heap on the floor.
"Detective Wayne Simpson," the man greeted him, all business.
Roan nodded, waiting for the questions.
"You're"-the detective peered at his notepad-"Cassie's brother? Roan?"
"Roan Gregory, yes," he confirmed.
He quickly gave the man the story of how he'd come home to find her lifeless on the floor, the syringe still dangling from her arm. He answered questions as best he could. Yes, Cassie was a drug addict. Yes, she had been trying to get clean. No, he didn't know where she got the drugs from. Yes, the little boy was her son, but Roan had guardianship. Yes, he had the papers to prove it. No, he did not intend to stay here in this house. Yes, he would be the one arranging the funeral.
Cam remained right by his side, handling as many of the questions as the detective allowed. He steered Roan out of the way when someone-he didn't even know who-wheeled Cassie's body out of the house.
It all took less than an hour, and by the time things calmed down, Roan felt numb.
It was too late to save Cassie. He was too late.
He rubbed his fist over his heart. The damn thing ached. A physical pain he didn't much care for.
"She overdosed," Roan mumbled. "Just like I knew she would." He took a deep breath, tried to hold back the tears, but he couldn't stop them this time. "Goddammit, Cassie."
Staring into space, Roan recalled the last conversation they'd had before her hateful texts. It'd been right before he left for the game.
"Are you sure you don't mind me going?" Roan asked for the third time.
Cassie peered up from the television long enough to roll her eyes. "I'm quite capable of taking care of myself."
It wasn't her he was worried about.
"And Liam," she added belatedly. "We'll be fine."
"I just bathed him. He's got clean clothes and a dry diaper. He'll be ready to eat in an hour. Can you handle that?" Roan knew his tone was harder than he'd meant it to be, but it was difficult for him to trust Cassie to do what she said she'd do.
"I'm his mother, Roan. I think I know when my kid wants to eat."
He bit back a retort. "The game starts at seven. I'll be home around ten. Ten thirty at the latest."
Cassie waved him off, her attention once again on the television.
He should've gone through the house with a fine-toothed comb and thrown out any drugs she might've had. But he'd believed she'd stopped.
Or rather, he'd wanted to believe.
More importantly, he should've stayed home.
His chest expanded and heat encompassed his sinuses as the tears came in a rush.
The next thing he knew, Cam's arms were around him and Roan was crying like a baby. He hated that he couldn't hold it together. Cam had been close to Roan's sister growing up and he probably felt the same sharp stab of pain that Roan felt.