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Chapter 1You’re not a snack if everyone has had a bite. You’re a free sample.
-Fun Fact
Landry
Two and a half years ago
“No, Wade,” I snarled. “It’s not just that easy.”
He frowned. “What are you talking about? I realize that it’s tough, and it’s going to hurt, but baby, this is your sister! Your sister is your family. Your blood. You can’t just leave her in need.”
That was when I felt everything inside of me still.
“The first time I donated bone marrow to my sister, I was a toddler. Barely the age of two and a half,” I said, almost in a whisper. “The second time, I was four. The third? Seven. Do you see a pattern, Sergeant?”
Wade frowned and tilted his head to the side, confusion spreading over his face.
“My parents had me to be their donor baby,” I whispered. “They never wanted me. I was never allowed to be a child. I was a useful object to them.”
Wade looked startled. “What do you mean by not being able to be a child?”
I laughed maniacally.
“I’m saying that I was bred to be their baby’s saving grace,” I hissed. “And I’m not doing it anymore. My sister is an asshole. My father’s a conniving bastard, and my mother is the biggest bitch known to man. Don’t you think that there’s a reason that I’ve never spoken of them?”
He looked at me like I was crazy. “Honey, you told me that you had a falling out. But this is your sister.”
I looked over at where my sister was sitting out on the front porch, silently crying her big, fat crocodile tears.
She’d always been good at them.
There was a time when I was younger that all she had to do was get that look on her face, and I’d be scared shitless.
Because if Lina wasn’t happy, nobody was happy, least of all me.
There was always going to be hell to pay if a single tear fell down Lina’s perfect cheek.
Lina also looked like a little China doll. She had perfect blonde curls, soft, milky white skin, blue eyes the color of a crayon, and she was tiny.
I, on the other hand, was none of those things but short.
I had brown hair to her blonde, brown eyes to her blue, freckled skin to her perfect complexion, and when I tried hard, I was also skinny.
Except, lately, I had been drinking beer and having the time of my life—living it like I’d always wanted to live it.
“I won’t do it,” I refused again, sounding petulant now.
I knew he didn’t understand.
Deep down, Wade was a really good man.
He’d experienced a lot in his life. He was a cop and had seen some very bad things.
But, what he did not have, was a bad family.
His family was awesome. His mom was the best mother in the whole world, and his dad was the kind of father I’d only ever dreamed of having when I was younger.
God, even his brother was the best.
He had no clue what it was like to hate your family like I did.
Hell, the only reason he hadn’t heard of them sooner was because my sister hadn’t gotten sick enough to need me.
Had she, Wade would’ve learned the truth about who my family was a hell of a lot quicker.
“I’m going to tell her that you’re thinking about it, and we can discuss it more later, okay?” Wade offered. “I don’t want you to make any hasty decisions because you’re overreacting.”
Overreacting?
I wasn’t overreacting.
Not even close.
“Whatever, Wade,” I muttered, feeling defeated. “Go do what you have to do. I’m going to bed.”
Wade went outside, and through the front windows, I saw Wade sit down and talk to Lina like she was a glass doll.
She wasn’t.
She was hardcore. She was manipulative. She was…hugging my husband.
I stiffened when she threw herself into my husband’s arms, and what did Wade do when that happened?
He wrapped those arms of his that were supposed to be wrapped around me and pulled her in tight.
That’s when I knew I wasn’t going to win the battle.
***
Three weeks later
“Why isn’t your family here?” Wade asked, sounding concerned.
I snorted and turned my head on the pillow so it wasn’t facing him anymore.
The last three weeks had been a lesson in control.
My parents and sister had put on good acts. They’d brought Wade into their arms and showed him just how nice they could be.
They’d put on the perfect show, and their efforts made Wade doubt me and everything I’d told him over the last few weeks to try to enlighten him to just how awful of a family I really had.
“Maybe I should call them,” Wade offered.
I held my tongue.
The nurse poked me in the hand as she started an IV, and I closed my eyes and started to count to ten.
By the time I got down to five, I was fairly sure that I wasn’t going to throw up.
