I frown, not sure why he feels that way. I’ve seen him with his brothers. “Colin’s family. Rebel’s family. Teagan told me you had a mother … a foster mother. Right?”
He sighs before answering. I wait what seems like a long time for his reply.
“Colin is my older brother, but we spent a lot of years apart. He was put into the system first and then my mom had me later. I was with her for a couple years before they took me too.”
My heart squeezes uncomfortably in my chest for him. I’ve never had to worry about things like this in my life. I might have a brother who lights shit on fire and licks cat turds when our backs are turned, but I’ve never had to doubt the security of my home or my bed or my parents’ dedication to my health and upbringing. Even now with my mom seriously pissed at me, I know she’d lay down her life for me, no questions asked. I never stopped to think about people like Mick who don’t have that. Maybe in passing, but not seriously. It never struck me how sheltered my life has been until now, right here in this hospital bed. I feel small and stupid.
“Why did they take you away?” I ask.
“Drugs. She was an addict. She tried to get clean, but she always hooked up with the wrong guys and then she’d start using again. She was a mess.”
“You say was. She’s better now? Or … not alive?”
“I assume she’s dead. I haven’t seen her since I was little kid.”
My emotions are all over the place. Sadness. Horror. Anger at the injustice of it all. “That’s awful,” I say, because it is. I could not imagine my parents doing that to us. I hope I haven’t insulted him by saying that about his mom.
“Yeah, it was. But Emily raised me up right and I had Rebel looking out for me and sometimes Colin too, so it wasn’t all bad.” He looks over at me. “I’m a real catch, huh?”
The vulnerability I see behind the cocky smile is devastating to my heart. It falls into a million little pieces and I rush to put it together. For both of us.
“You are a catch. Where you come from doesn’t matter. Well, it matters, but not like that. Not like you’re saying.”
“I don’t get it,” he says.
“I know. I’m all messed up in the head.” I close my eyes and open them again, trying to get it all straight in my brain. Gesturing with my hand seems to help, so I wave it around over the bed as I speak. “I’m saying that who your parents are, how they treated you, that doesn’t say anything about who you are. Not to me, anyway. It’s what you do with yourself later that matters. And I see you working hard, being a good person. You helped Teagan get her job there at Rebel Wheels and you’ve been very supportive.” My arm drops to my side once more.
“Teagan got her own job there. That was all on her.”
“She told me you were helpful and I believe her. And you’ve been nothing but nice to me.”
He looks at the ceiling again. “I wouldn’t say that if I were you.”
Misgivings climb into my brain and start poking me, prodding me, making me doubt everything I thought I knew about his good intentions. “What do you mean?” The mood in the room goes dark.
“Never mind.” He turns his head away from me. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m pretty tired. I think these drugs are hitting me pretty hard. Would you mind shutting the curtain for a little while?”
The hurt goes deep. Ugh. Rejection. Fuck that shit. I’m angry all over again, just like that. “How about if I just arrange for a room switch? Or I could go wait for my parents out in the waiting room, give you a private room all to yourself.”
He looks at me again, pissed. “Don’t be like that.”
“Don’t be like what?” I say innocently. “Like all hot and cold? All nice and then all assholey? Why would I do that?”
He rolls his eyes and it seems like he’s not going to respond. But then he looks at me and does. “When I asked you out, I was just interested in having a good time, okay? No offense.”
“So?” I back my head up, playing off the hurt. “That’s why I agreed to go too. Good times. Nothing wrong with that.” God, this sucks. My heart is literally aching. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!
“You know what I mean.” He sighs with either frustration or disappointment. I don’t care which it is. Now he’s insulted me.
I feel stupid and used and naive as hell. I really hate feeling that way. His hurtful words have put me on the offensive and I am so going to take him down a notch or two.