Free Irreplaceable (Underneath it All Series: Book Three) (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) by Ava Claire Page B

that he was a decorated General who lived abroad, protecting American freedom; that he was a celebrity and Mom just didn’t bother telling him that I existed. My imagination, my bullshit fairytales, were easier to swallow than a man who helped create me having no interest in me at all.
    Shockingly that wasn’t the most painful part. I wasn’t sure which sucked harder, a father who wanted nothing to do with me, or a mother who spent the few years we had together reminding me how inconvenient my very existence was. Whose moods dictated my own, whether I was smiling and just being a kid, or walking on eggshells and trying to be the adult when I didn’t even know what that meant. I should have been watching cartoons instead of rationing out food and worrying about a woman who didn’t even notice she was starving us both to death. I was all skin and bones until a schoolteacher reported her and I was taken from the only home I’d ever known...and foisted on opportunistic adults who weren’t much better.
    Rose’s words as she paced back and forth, tears in her voice, tears pouring from her eyes, didn’t reach me. My heart was breaking for her. For both of them. My soul, a thing I’d never really acknowledged before, was aching as Sadie stood like she was struck by lightning and turned to some ice cold statue. She wouldn’t even look at me.
    I put aside the chicken, looking this catastrophe right in the eye.
    “Sadie...” I had no idea what to say or do, and none of that mattered because when I took a step towards her, she still didn’t blink. Didn’t wrench her eyes away from the moment she and Rose had shared.
    I knew touching her was a risk. It could make her crumble in my fingers, or earn me a slap across the face. I was familiar with that too; being so afraid, so angry, so tired that I lashed out at the people who tried to help me. People called me an asshole. Cocky. Standoffish. Heartless.
    If I had a heart, it was Sadie McLeod.
    I focused on that, taking her by the shoulders. I lied to her, saying the words that I’d heard every time I, or some other foster kid, got fed up with some tyrannical foster parent and the social worker ‘saved’ us—only to dump us into some fresh, new hell.
    “It’s gonna be okay,” I said softly.
    All things considered, I had no authority to say such a thing. The odds were not in anyone’s favor. I knew that better than most.
    My attempt at comforting her, the bullshit, unhelpful line I’d had used on me dozens of times, got a reaction. She blinked, her bright, green eyes going from dazed to incredulous almost instantly.
    “Is that right?” She shook my hands from her violently. “What the hell do you know about it? My mother is in the fucking hospital, probably because her latest boyfriend decided to try and beat her to death. Or maybe they made our house go boom because they were cooking meth.” She started talking a million miles a minute, not taking a breath. “Or perhaps she finally ran out of goodwill and the money I’ve been scrambling to make so she could get out of debt just wasn’t coming quick enough and she got shot trying to rob someone-”
    “Wait a minute.” I forced my way back into the conversation, ignoring the fury that billowed from her mouth like fire. “This is not your fault. Bad shit happens to good people-”
    “That’s just the thing,” she laughed bitterly, nostrils flaring as she struggled to not cry. “My mother is NOT a good person. That ship sailed a long time ago.”
    “I wasn’t talking about her,” I continued, my voice low. I said to hell with giving her space. I pushed away good sense; the voice that told me not to approach a woman that looked ready to shoot me dead, if she had a gun handy. I was smart enough not to try and touch her again. Yet.
    “I was talking about you and Rose. You’re good people. And everything is gonna be okay.” I’d finished my statement, shared what I needed to share, and I still felt like it