Page 7 of The Sacrifice

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Page 7 of The Sacrifice

“Who cares?” He shakes his head and marches past me, stopping by the kitchen island.

When he takes a deep breath, I wrinkle my nose. What’s this about? He seems exceptionally keyed up, which is unlike him. He only gets bent out of shape when his football team is losing. His best friend’s football team. Ugg….

“I need your help.”

“Okay.” I walk to the opposite side of the island and press my hands onto the granite countertop. “Shoot.”

“This afternoon, a woman dropped off a baby at Jackson’s house.” Ah, the prodigal football player has spoken. And gotten some random chick pregnant. Or babied. Whatever.

I cock my head and press my lips together in a firm line. How is this my problem? “Like that’s a surprise.”

“I need you to be serious.”

“I am being serious. Jackson is immature and clearly irresponsible.”

“Enough.” Anger crosses his features as he matches my posture and leans toward me over the countertop.

“I’ll never get it. I don’t understand why you defend him. Repeatedly. He got you suspended from school. He made you late for football practice until you were almost kicked off the team. He didn’t think about you at all. He was so talented that the coaches were afraid to give him consequences, but you almost lost something you loved doing. Then as a pro, he fucked around and got franchise tagged, and now he’s knocked up some girl he banged. I don’t understand your fascination with him.”

“He’s a good guy.”

“Bullshit.” I push back and wave my hands in the air, spinning on my heel. I’m already done with this conversation.

“The birth mother stopped by to tell him about the baby and let him know that she was dropping the child off with social services because she’s headed to Vegas with her non-baby-wanting boyfriend to do who the fuck knows what.”

Bile rises in my throat, and I clutch my chest. What kind of person would do something like that? I’ve always wanted children but was told at a young age that conceiving naturally would be difficult, if not impossible. I’d have to go through numerous hoops just to have the possibility of having children, and this nameless woman is throwing her child away…. It’s disgusting. And Jackson had to go and stick his dick in her. He’s the epitome of being a fuck up.

I march to the sink and slap on the faucet, washing my hands. “What’s it to me?”

“He offered to take the baby rather than have it go into social services.”

I snap down the faucet and turn to face him. “That’s nice of him.”

“That’s nice of him?” He shakes his head. “When did you turn into a bitch?”

“Excuse me?” My hands ball into fists.

“You’re standing over there on your pedestal while a friend of mine, who you blame for all the horrible atrocities in the universe, is dealing with a real situation. And it’s bullshit that you blame everything on him. We were kids. And he didn’t kidnap me. I was an equal participant in the crap we pulled in school. I graduated from both high school and college. I sell million-dollar homes, making a huge commission on each one. And I have a kickass house of my own. My friend….” His eyes narrow into slits. “Decided to have sex with a woman who he shouldn’t have. But the instant he found out he had a child, which might not even be his, he took her into his home rather than shove her off into some foster home. And that makes him a bad person?”

The fact my younger brother is lecturing me grates on my nerves. I was the one that had it all together until now. My shoulders sag. I’m in his kitchen, living in his guest bedroom with no job. Fuck. “What does he need?”

“Everything. She left him without even a diaper bag. He doesn’t have a bottle or anything. I don’t even know if she’s healthy or underweight. The second he decided he was taking her, and it didn’t matter what I said, I left to come to talk to you. I was supposed to be headed to a home tour, but I sent a co-worker to handle the viewing. He doesn’t want help, but he doesn’t know what he’s doing either.”

“He doesn’t want help?” Why in the hell is my brother up my ass over this? I could be organizing the bathroom closet.

“He doesn’t want help fromyou.”

Peachy.My eyelid twitches. Yes, it’s hypocritical that I’m butt hurt that he doesn’t want my help when I adamantly refused to help him–bite me. I cross my arms over my chest. “Then, why are we having this conversation?”

“Because you’re cleaning my drawers. You have no purpose. You’re still under contract with your nanny company and looking for a new position. And my best friend needs a nanny. Hadley, his daughter, needs your help. She’s laying in a baby carrier in a dirty diaper with a disaster for a biological mother and a father who doesn’t have formula, diapers, or clothes.”

Who abandons a baby like that? My heart clutches in my chest. She should be arrested. I slap my hands on my hips. “Fine. Tell him to fill out the application. I’ll send you the link while I’m out grabbing supplies.” I turn on my heel and march toward my bedroom.

“Thank you, Mia. He might not want you, but he needs you. The baby needs you. You’ll know what to do to make everything right and to get him over this hump. I would do it, but I have work, and I don’t know one diaper size from another.”

I stop with my hand on the doorknob but don’t turn around. “I said I’d do it. You don’t have to keep selling me on it.”

“Go to Russell’s on Grand. I have an account there. I’ll call them and tell them to charge whatever you get to my account.”




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