Under Pressure (Body Armor #1)(117)

Tonya waited.

“I’m happy enough.”

“Oh, honey.” She slipped one hand around his arm and leaned her head on his wide but bony shoulder. At twelve he was still so young, but she remembered being his age, feeling all grown up, on the edge of the teen years.

When she was twelve, Cissy had been twenty, and already a disaster. It had been difficult—as in almost impossible—for her parents to have enough energy and attention for them both. Always, for as long as she could remember, Cissy had needed.

Everything. Time, attention, money, advice, understanding.

And that had left Tonya resentful, and so alone.

A deep inhalation helped cleanse away the memories. “Listen, neither one of us is very happy right now. We’ve just lost Cissy and—”

“And you didn’t like her anyway.” He breathed harder, the growing tension in his body obvious. Turning his face away, he muttered, “I didn’t like her most of the time, either.”

Ignoring his efforts to subtly lean away from her, Tonya held tight and nodded. “Okay, that’s fair. Sometimes I didn’t like her. Often I really disliked the things she did.” Like refusing to pull it together for her son, rejecting all offers of help to get clean and sober.

Never, not once, making her son a priority.

“But she was my big sister, and even when I didn’t like her, I still loved her. That’s how it is with family.”

When the cat protested, Kevin loosened his hold and let her walk away. She gave him a big-eyed look, a soft “meow,” and then went a few feet away to groom herself.

Tonya could hear the ticking of the kitchen clock on the wall, and the stillness of the others in the living room, maybe listening in, but maybe just being respectful with their silence.

“Mom always said you didn’t want anything to do with us.”

Horrified, even though she’d often suspected Cissy had filled his head with those lies, Tonya whispered, “That’s not true.”

“I know.” He stretched his legs out and put his head back.

He looked far too emotionally fatigued for a boy so young.

“I remember you visiting, arguing with Mom about...everything. Drugs, drinking, men.” His mouth pinched, he swallowed hard. “Sometimes about me. And I know you paid the rent a few times.”

She’d also twice turned Cissy in to authorities for being an unfit mother. But each time her sister made promises to get it together. She’d sign up with different programs, and Child Protective Services had let her slide. Maybe things hadn’t been quite bad enough to take Kevin from her.

But they’d still been bad enough.

And God, Tonya had wanted to take him.

Now she had him, and somehow, some way, she’d make him understand.

Tonya hugged his arm a little tighter. “I’ve never done this before, you know? Cissy didn’t want me around much, so you and I aren’t as close as I would have liked. But I’m your aunt and I love you.”

“You don’t really know me.”

“I know enough, but it doesn’t matter anyway. If I’d never seen you I would love you because you’re a part of me.”

He gave her such a disbelieving look.

“It’s true,” she promised him. “From the day Cissy told me she was pregnant, I loved you. I’m sorry she’s gone, I’m sorry that I could never figure out a way to make things better, and I’m very sorry for what you’re going through. But I’m glad you’re here with me. I want you to be happy. I want me to be happy. I think, maybe if we work together and are forgiving of each other and talk—probably a lot of talking—we can make it happen. Don’t you think?”

“I don’t know.” He rubbed a spot on his worn jeans. “I got dumped on you.”

“No.” Fighting off her own tears, her throat thick and her voice cracking, she whispered, “I would have fought for you.” He needed to understand that.

For one moment in time he looked devastated. Then he pulled up his knees, put his head down and covered it with his arms.

He was such a tall boy, his limbs gangly, but still a boy. And now he was hers. “Kevin?”

He held himself tighter.

Tonya feared the worst—that maybe he’d cry and then she knew she’d totally lose it too. But instead, still with his face hidden, he said, “You and Jesse going to live together?”

Her heart jumped into double time. “I’m not sure. We’re still working on our relationship.”

“Because of me.”

She shoulder-bumped him. “Don’t take all the credit, kiddo. A lot of it is me.”

“What do you mean?”

She sighed. “Sometimes I have it together. And sometimes I’m just a mess.” She smiled. “But hey, I consider myself a work in progress.”

Finally he lifted his head. “I don’t belong here.”

“Please believe me that you do. And, Kevin, I swear, whatever it takes, I’m going to make it okay.”

Their talk had left his eyes red-rimmed and colored his nose, but he didn’t cry. Maybe, even at only twelve, he considered that unmanly.

Suddenly he scrubbed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets and scrambled up to stand. “I should get going.”