“Doubtful, but we’ll see who pops in. I have interviews set up. There’s only so many ‘I’ll blow you for a sleeve’messages I can look at without wanting to bleach my eyes.”
Rhett takes his feet off the desk and sits up with rapt attention. “Who offered that? Did she leave a number?”
“Who said it was ashe?”
His face drops. “You’re fucking with me.”
“See for yourself.” I turn my laptop and show him the message from this morning that some guy with cartoon tattoos sent to the shop page. I watch a series of emotions flit across his face before he spins the screen back toward me, shaking his head.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Nope. I’m done. We need to hire someone. I don’t know how you look at all that.” He gestures toward the computer.
“It’s fine. I have interviews, and Seth pulled applications, so hopefully there’s someone in there with half a brain. We really only need some evenings and Saturdays covered.”
“True. Let me know if you need help with the vetting process. I can be a good judge of character, ya know.”
I pin him with a stare. We both know he’s not capable of judging a stick figure drawing contest, let alone someone’s character.
“Alright, fine. Never mind. You can stow your judgy eyes. Don’t complain later when you wish you had taken me up on my offer.”
The bell above the door chimes, and Rhett checks his watch. “That’ll be my client. Let me know what you need, man. I’ve got your back,” he promises and heads out the door.
He’s not wrong. I know he has my back, just like I have his. The four of us—me, Rhett, Seth, and Kash—all learned the hard way that you need the right kind of people in your corner and that not everyone is actually willing to show up. Some people talk big but buckle when the pressure gets to be too much. Not everyone is cut out for the shitstorm that life brings when you least expect it.
I didn’t meet my brothers until I was twelve, and by then, I was already angry and pissed off at everyone. I had been in foster care for four years when I finally landed with the guys and Emma. I was the last kid she took in, and I think I gave her the most trouble.
I wasn’t even supposed to stay with her long-term, just briefly until they found another placement, but she never gave me back. Not when I broke a window at fourteen, or when I stole her car and went joyriding at sixteen.
I thought for sure I was screwed, and she would leave me in jail, but truthfully? She saved my life.
Atlas, age 16
Sitting on the cot next to me, I feel her eyes boring into the side of my head. “I understand you’re pissed off at everyone. I would be too if I had been dealt the hand you were, but you have to decide what to do with yourself. If you want to continue being angry, go for it. I’m keeping you either way, but once you turn eighteen, it’ll be out of my hands. Your brothers?—”
“They’re not my brothers,” I spit angrily. Standing up, I turn and glare at her. “I don’t have a family.”
Her eyes soften, and she gives me a sad smile. “They are your brothers,” she corrects me. “They’re your brothers in all the ways that count. I may not be your mother, but I’m still your family too. You little shits are the best family I ever could have asked for. Just because none of us share blood, doesn’t mean we don’t bleed the same. Sometimes the best family is the one you make.”
Staring at the dirty floor of the cell, I don’t respond. I don’t have a family. No one wants me, starting with my parents, so why would this woman give a shit? She is just feeding me a line.
“My own parents didn’t even want me.”
“No. They didn’t. I can’t argue with that.” She shrugs her shoulders.
“So, what’s your point? Why are you even here?”
“Truthfully? I lost a bet with Kash. He said you were going to stealmy car the second you got your license. I disagreed and said you would wait at least six months before pulling a stunt like that. So now I owe him a hundred bucks, and you’re going to come back and work it off.”
“I’m not doing shit,” I grit out.
She laughs and nods. “Not like this, you’re not. You have two choices. Are you ready?”
Refusing to answer, I stand, not sure I even want to listen anymore.
“Option one. You can stay here, wait for them to process you, and then send you to juvie, where you’ll likely become someone’s punching bag again, or there’s option two. You can let me tell them you borrowed my car. You were supposed to go to the store to get potatoes for me, but you took the scenic route.”
I turn, my eyes snapping to hers, trying to find the lie. I have no idea what her game is. “Why would you do that?”
“Well, I already told you. We’re a family, and families stick together. Plus, I hate losing. Don’t let Kash win.”
