Page 175 of Tenderfoot

Between his sisters.

“I thought—” Austin started.

I whirled again. “I know what you thought, you asshole.”

I heard Javi’s swift intake of breath at me cursing. Julia’s mouth dropped open. Cath’s tears disappeared, and she looked instantly angry.

“We’re just trying—” Cath started.

“I know what you’re trying too,” I cut her off, then I turned my attention to her father. “Do you honestly believe you could leave him to fend for himself, and when I say that, in this context, it’s literally, and then just waltz into his life when he no longer has to fight for it every…damned…day?”

“Maybe we could come in and talk?” Julia suggested softly.

“And maybe you can’t,” I snapped at her.

“He’s our brother and we just first clapped eyes on him two seconds ago while you yelled at our dad,” Cath snapped back.

“He lived on the streets for sixteen years, Cath, courtesy of your dad,” I retorted, and good on her, she had the grace to flinch, but still. Fuck that noise. I jabbed a finger in her direction. “You have no clue.” I jabbed it at Julia. “And you have no clue.” I finally jabbed it at Austin. “But you do, don’t you, Mr. Atherton? You know precisely what you put your son, your own flesh and blood, through. It’s just that, for those sixteen years and then some, you didn’t give that first shit.”

“That’s unfair,” Julia whispered.

“Yeah? It is?” I asked harshly. “Your father is a multimillionaire, and he couldn’t find his son and put him in a decent home, get him into school, put food in his belly, clothes on his back?”

“Things with Mom were difficult,” Cath explained.

But even if I could tell she knew that was totally lame, I lost it.

“I don’t give that first fuck about your mother,” I hissed so hostilely, my upper body spiking her way, Javi wrapped an arm around my middle and pulled me back.

“We’re done here,” Javi stated.

“Javier—” Austin started beseechingly.

But as Javi started shutting the door, Cath threw her hand out to catch it, crying, “We just want to figure out how to make amends. Dad wants to figure it out.”

Javi stopped trying to close the door and looked to Austin. “Yeah?”

“You’re a member of our family, Javier,” Austin replied quickly.

“Wish you felt that when I was born,” Javi returned. “Or when I was two. Or when I was five and Ma was just starting to wig out and lost her job. Or when I was seven and had an ear infection, and the woman at the homeless shelter we were staying at reported me to CPS, and they took me away from Ma. And by the time I escaped and got back to her, she was so fucking skinny, her hair so matted, it was painful, so I had to shave that shit off her scalp with a dull knife.”

Julia recoiled in shock and despair.

The tears returned to Cath’s eyes.

Austin’s face was getting red, and his eyes weren’t dry either.

But Javi wasn’t done.

“Or maybe when Marlene, who used to be a teacher, would teach me how to read and add two plus two while we were sitting out in a hundred-and-fifteen-degree weather by her shopping cart. Or when I picked the maggots out of the refried beans I found, but Ma and I shared them anyway.”

“Oh God,” Cath groaned.

I closed my eyes and leaned back into my guy.

And Javi still wasn’t done.

“I just got in a fight with my woman because she wants me to have shiny new things, because she gets I’m fucking thirty-three and I’m only now letting myself have them. But, see, they terrify me because what if shit gets real?” he asked. “What if it all falls apart like it always does and I gotta walk away from my expensive smoothie maker? And then I’ll kick myself in the ass for spending stupid money on a fucking smoothie maker instead of spending smart on shit like food or my mortgage or laundry detergent to clean my clothes.”