Pushing the Limits (Pushing the Limits, #1)(48)

“I’m not saying that, but I know a child who does, and I’ll tell you that in three years that child has never slept through the night.”

I closed my eyes. So many things were wrong with this picture. “Why was I never told?”

“Because it’s private information. Besides, Jacob wants you to view him the way he sees you—as strong, as a hero.”

The last part of her statement blew my mind, but I couldn’t focus on that, not when Jacob needed me. “Private?” I opened my eyes and the only color in the room was red. “I’m his brother.”

Her gaze bored into mine. “That’s right. You’re Jacob’s older brother, not his guardian. You know you’re not allowed private information.” I wasn’t. I lost all rights to my brothers the moment my fist connected with my first foster father’s jaw.

“Noah!” His bloodcurdling scream echoed into the room. Fuck it.

“Please, let Carrie and Joe handle this,” pleaded Mrs. Collins, but I hustled around her and exited the room. Keesha stood in the hallway holding Tyler. What was their excuse for keeping Tyler away? I’d deal with that later.

“Get your butt back in that room, boy. Carrie and Joe have this covered,” Keesha said.

I ignored her completely as I walked past, placing a hand on Tyler’s head for a brief moment. Muffled cries carried out of the room next to mine. I shoved the door open to find Carrie and Joe sitting on the carpet beside Jacob, who thrashed uncontrollably.

Joe’s eyes widened when I entered the room. “What are you doing here?”

Tears soaked Jacob’s cheeks and basketball jersey. His face flushed red, hands clutched tight to his chest, mumbling incoherently. I knelt beside Carrie, inches from my brother. She grabbed hold of my wrist as I went to touch him. “Touching him makes it worse.”

I flicked my arm from her hold and placed my hand on Jacob’s head, mimicking the way Mom used to stroke mine. “J-bird, it’s me. Noah. Can you wake up for me, buddy?”

His body shook and he moaned, “Noah.”

“You don’t understand, he’s not awake. He doesn’t know you’re really here.” The woman wiped her eyes. “We know what to do. We’re the ones who take care of him. Not you.”

“Looks like you’re doing a fantastic job. Killed any goldfish lately?” I scooped my brother up and sat on the couch with him cradled in my arms. I sang Mom’s favorite song in his ear.

I continued to whisper the song until Jacob’s tears and convulsions faded. Finally, he opened his eyes, awareness more pronounced than confusion. “Noah?”

“Hey, bro.”

TYLER DREW ME PICTURES DURING our visit. Lots and lots of pictures. He smiled and hugged me before he left, but still never said a word. Jacob sat in my lap while we played the game at least a hundred times. When Keesha told us our time was up, it felt like someone had ripped out my heart, cut it into pieces and poured alcohol all over it. Jacob locked his arms around my neck so tightly, he constricted my air passage.

“I’m scared, Noah,” he whispered to me.

“Jacob, it’s time …” started Carrie.

Mrs. Collins shushed her while motioning with her hand for me to continue. My eyes widened and I held him tighter. Dammit. What type of questions did Mrs. Collins ask me? “What are you scared about?”

“What if there’s another fire? You’re not going to be there to save me.”

“I’ll always save you.” Because I would. I’d move heaven and earth. I’d willingly walk into hell and stay there. I’d give up anything and everything for him.

He sniffed and his body began to shake. I absently rubbed his back. “It’s okay, bro.”

“But if there is another fire …”

Mrs. Collins pointed to Jacob and then to Carrie and her pathetic husband, her meaning clear. I’d rather go back to some of my earlier foster homes than tell him to trust those idiots. “There won’t be another fire.”

Mrs. Collins raised her hands in exasperation, shaking her head. He whispered in my ear, “How do you know?”

I kissed his cheek and whispered back, “I know.”

His voice barely audible, Jacob said, “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Never.”

“DON’T TELL ANYONE WHAT, NOAH?” Mrs. Collins stared into the two-way mirror, fixing her hair.

“What?” I put on my jacket and grabbed Tyler’s drawings.

“Jacob whispered to you not to tell anyone and you agreed.” She turned and smiled. “I read lips.”

Of course she did. What the f*ck didn’t she do? Oh, drive. “You must have misunderstood.”

“No. I didn’t.” She straightened her dress. “What do you think of the dress, too much? I’ve never chaperoned a dance. Not that it matters, I won’t have time to change. Keeping secrets isn’t helping your brother.”

What the hell? Was the lady incapable of a coherent line of thought? Dresses, chaperoning dances, my brothers? Screw good impressions. She treaded on territory I wanted her far away from. “You don’t know anything about me and my brothers, so I suggest you butt out.”

“This is a hard way to live. Not trusting anyone,” she said in that annoying I’m-older-and-wiser-than-you voice. “It’s not you and your brothers against the world. Aren’t you tired of being miserable? Don’t you want to know what it feels like to be happy again?”