Sinful Longing (Sinful Nights, #3)(11)

“Okay. Tell me more.” She knew a little bit of his story. He hadn’t told her many specifics but he had started coming around the center a few months ago, when he’d graduated from high school and moved out of his family’s house. Lately he’d been opening up to her. He’d been raised by his father and a stepmother; his biological mother was out of the picture. She didn’t know much more than that, but his biological mother had other children, older siblings he wanted to connect with.

He cleared his throat and seemed to be drawing up his courage. “I just feel like I spent my whole life not knowing anything about my family and where I came from, and now I do. And my dad didn’t want me to find them, but they’re here in Vegas, and I’m not living at home anymore. So this is my choice. I need to do this.”

She tossed back the covers and headed to her closet as she chatted with him. “Then you should do it. Something is compelling you to connect with them, and you need to listen. Family is a powerful pull and a potent bond, and you’ve never had a chance to get to know them,” she said as she pulled on jeans, crooking her head against the phone as she zipped them up.

“But what if they don’t want to meet me?” he asked in a flurry, as if he had to spill out all the words in order to say them. She heard the tumultuousness in his voice. One moment he was courageous, the next he was hampered by fear. She wished she could cheer him on in person on this mission.

“Look, Marcus. I’m not going to sugarcoat this for you. They might have zero interest in getting to know you. They might not care. They might be so busy with their lives that they could give a rat’s butt. But this is in you,” she said, feeling a bit like a football coach giving a half-time speech. “You are trying to take a big step, wanting to connect with siblings you’ve never known, and that is bold.”

There was something quite soap opera-esque about his quest. The long-lost half brother…appearing out of nowhere…showing up on the doorstep of older brothers. But as soapy as it seemed on the surface, Elle had seen enough of the drama and danger in the world to know these scenarios were far more frequent than anyone would think.

“My dad once mentioned that one of them was closest to my mom, so I think I’ll start with him. Plus, he has a dog, so he’s out and about a lot in his neighborhood.”

Her antenna went up. “How do you know that?”

“Um.”

“Marcus, have you been following them around?” she asked sternly.

“Maybe,” he muttered.

“That’s not a good idea. It can freak people out. You need to be direct. If you want to meet them you need to man up and go over there. Don’t follow people. It’s creepy. Makes them think you’re dangerous. You’re not, are you?” she said, like a teacher doling out tough love. Some days she had to play that role with the boys and girls at the center. But hell, that was why she went into counseling and social work—for the chance to make a difference with young people who needed it most. Some of the kids who hung out at her center had been teetering on the edge: living in poverty, raised by drug-addicted parents, born to fathers or mothers in jail, or plain damn neglectful ones.

And gangs. Lord knew some of these kids had been tempted. Street gangs, like the Royal Sinners, preyed upon the young and the vulnerable, promising them riches through crime. She hated that gang; hated the way they tempted the kids; hated the way they ruined lives.

“I’m not dangerous. I swear. I’m just…” He stopped speaking, letting his voice trail off.

“You’re scared,” she supplied, speaking softly.

“Yes,” he said in the barest voice.

“Remember what we talked about?”

“Rise above,” he said, echoing Elle’s mantra, which she tried to instill in the kids.

“Yes. Rise above. You can be so much. If your goal is to meet the family you’ve never known, I’m behind you. But you have to stop stalking them. Do not let fear guide you. Rise above it.”

“Okay. I’m going to do it. I’m going to head over to this guy’s home,” he said, his voice stronger and more confident now.

She beamed as she wandered to the kitchen and grabbed a carton of eggs from the fridge. “Let me know how it goes. I want a full report,” she said, then ended the call and began cracking eggs and cooking breakfast for her son, who padded out from his bedroom a few minutes later.

“Hi, Mom.”

Her heart went warm all over. Her brain was flooded with pure happiness.

Hi, Mom.

The simplest thing in the world but it was music to her ears.

*

Colin scratched his head as he surveyed the six-packs in the beer section at the local Safeway near his brother Ryan’s home. He hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol in eight years, and he honestly wasn’t sure what anybody drank when it came to beer in the first place. But Shannon had told him to grab some brew for their brother Ryan, since he was in some kind of a bad funk, and Ryan was a beer man. If Shannon had asked him to grab tequila, Colin would have been in and out of the liquor store in ten seconds with a beautiful bottle of Patrón—that was like liquid diamonds. Colin could have written a dissertation on the stuff. For many years, tequila was his best friend, his most reliable companion, his steady mate.

Hell, he and tequila had been deeply in love. You never forget your first love, even if you sample others along the way. Colin had started hitting the liquor bottle right after his father was killed when he was thirteen. He’d only flirted with it then—he had friends with older brothers, absent parents, and keys to the liquor cabinet. That was what being buddies with the Royal Sinners did for you. Gave you access to all sorts of shit. Better stuff than alcohol, too. His best friend at the time was Paul Nelson, and Paul’s older brother T.J. introduced the both of them to magic pills, because liquor was too risky for a teenager to pull off—the smell on your breath, the bottles in the trash…