Page 5 of Only Temporary

He shrugs like it’s the least of his worries. “I’ll go stay with Mila.”

“I thought she dumped your ass.”

He smirks at that and leans back in the chair. “She still wants the D, man. I mean, come on.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help but smile. He’s big and loud, but man, does he come through for me when I need it. I can feel Phillip watching us and slowly turn my attention back to him. “Fine.”

His eyes move back to the form. “How many bedrooms and bathrooms does the house have?’

“Three bedrooms. One bathroom.” I wince, knowing the house is small but having no doubt they were living in a much, much smaller place.

“Okay, the one female needs to have her own room. The three boys can share, as long as they each have their own bed.”

“I can just take the couch,” I say, hating the idea of the three boys cramped in one room.

Phillip, though, has other ideas, and his light-green eyes meet mine. “You have to have your own room too. Everyone needs a space for themselves.”

I want to say that by that logic, they’d all need their own room, but that would be shooting myself in the foot. “Okay,” I agree reluctantly.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?”

I glare at the man across the desk and don’t doubt Tatum can feel my rage from here because he sits up a little straighter and places his heavy hand on my shoulder, settling me.

“They deserve a better life. They deserve not to live with strangers who’ll do God knows what to them. I’m their big brother. I’m supposed to protect them, and I’ve let them down for the last four years.”

“And why is that?” he asks pointedly, getting to the real crux of the problem.

“Because I was a total shithead from fifteen until I was almost twenty. I left when I realized there was no way I could clean up there. When I watched some fucker stroke my six-year-old brother’s face and ask him if he wanted to go in the other room with him, and I was so fucked up, I could barely make my limbs move enough to kick the guy’s ass and get him the hell out of our shitty apartment.” Bile rises in my throat, thinking about Kieran. He was so young and little. He was so damn scared, and I was supposed to protect him.

I beat the shit out of the asshole who supplied mom with her fix that night while she was passed out in the bathroom, but I was drunk and high and so easily could have been passed out right there too. I told him if he ever came back, I’d kill him.

God knows what would have happened and what’s happened since I left. But I knew, going down the path I was, I’d never have been able to help them. I didn’t think it would take four years, but I swear the plan was always to go back there.

“And then you got sober?” Phillip asks me so calmly and matter-of-factly, I’m almost taken aback. I don’t hear any judgment in his tone.

There should be. I judge me. I fucked up. I left them there. They hate me. There’s no way they don’t because they should. But Phillip—yeah, he’s not judging.

“Yes. Finally. I met Tatum in some shitty rehab that did nothing for me, but we did end up going to meetings together and getting clean. Staying clean.”

“That’s good,” Phillip says easily and writes something down. “You still go to meetings?’

“Yes. Twice a week.” My voice is gruff, still remembering Kieran’s face when I left them all behind.

“That’s good. And you’re employed and own your own home,” he repeats as a statement and not a question, so I don’t say anything. “Okay.” He closes his file and looks at me. “I think you have a great shot at temporary custody of the kids.” I hate that fucking word immediately, but I keep my mouth closed.Temporary. “It’s going to take a lot of work and a lot of convincing to get a judge to give you permanent guardianship of these children. But I think you can make that happen, and it’s my job to help you.”

I want to laugh in his face. The system is fucked. It’s not here to help, and he’s not my friend, but I manage not to laugh. “Can I see them?”

He grabs his phone and types away before looking at me. “Yes. I think we can get you temporary custody this afternoon. The sooner they’re with you, the less traumatic the whole experience. I have to get approval from Margie, but then we can go and get the kids.” He looks over at Tatum briefly and then at me. “Just you and me, unfortunately.”

I want to argue, but I know nothing I say will matter, and Tatum acts totally unbothered as he stands up from his chair and pats my shoulder. “Not a problem. I gotta get back to work anyway.” His eyes meet mine. “Let me know how it goes. I can bring pizza over for dinner tonight or something.”

I look over at Phillip. “He’s still allowed at the house, right?” My tone is bitter, but I didn’t try to bite it back.

Phillip doesn’t seem annoyed or offended by my irritation at all. “Of course. Just can’t sleep under the same roof.” It annoys me how breezy he sounds, and I manage a goodbye to Tatum before he leaves, and I’m stuck waiting around to go see my siblings.

Finally, Phillip gets the okay, and I hop in what has to be a state-issued van with him, and he takes us to a shitty, rundown old brick building downtown. I’ve been here before. Group home. Temporary placement.

Because it’s always fucking temporary.

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