Fated Series. Book #2
"Be possessive of me, own me, keep me, because if you do then nothing and no one else can." - Maddox.
My name is Maddox Vallero, and I'm dead.
Well, that's not quite true. I'm alive in the breathing, walking, talking sense-but...
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Chapter 2 Cramped Days Sophia
"I understand," I replied sharply, pressing the elevator button with more force than necessary. The coffee in my hand was so hot it felt like it was burning through the cup, but I ignored it. Three folders were tucked under my arm, a company laptop balanced precariously on top, and my purse hung from my shoulder. In my other hand, I held a second coffee. Not really coffee—more like a sugar high waiting to happen. But it wasn't for me.
The elevator chimed as I stood there, silently praying it was empty. My phone was wedged between my shoulder and ear, and I repeated the same words into it. "I understand."
The woman on the other end clearly didn't understand that I've been waiting for this moment for over a year. I get the challenges, the risks, the endless hoops I have to jump through. I understand my life is about to turn upside down, and there's a good chance I'll fall off balance. But what she doesn't understand is that I'm ready. I've been ready for a year—since the moment I found out about him, two hundred and ninety days ago, to be exact.
"I understand," I said again, keeping my voice steady as Gale, the adoption coordinator, continued explaining the process. She talked to me like I hadn't already been through it all once, like I didn't nearly go through with it a few months ago.
He should be with me already. I hated that he wasn't. I curse myself for it every day, but when I lost my previous job—a job I'd poured everything into, only to be cut loose for no reason that made sense—my application was put on hold. Without a steady income, I didn't qualify to be his guardian. It didn't matter how much I had saved, didn't matter that I was his sister. According to their rules, I wasn't qualified.
Me. Someone who's capable of being anything and anyone I set my sights on. And yet, in the eyes of this broken system, I wasn't "fit" to take care of my own brother. Fuck whoever made that decision. Fuck whoever thought it was okay to leave him alone in foster care for a year. And a giant fuck you to my mother for having another kid twenty-four years later and then giving him up like he was nothing.
The elevator doors slid open, and I exhaled in relief to find it empty. Stepping inside, I said, "I understand, Gale." But silently, I was cursing her out. I'm more than capable of taking care of my own brother. He belongs with me, not in some stranger's house. Sure, he's only a year old—too young to fully understand what's happening. But I'm old enough to know the shame that comes with not being there for him.
It's a burn that never goes out, a match I can't put out with any amount of water. He shouldn't have to be in a stranger's home when he could be with me—his sister. His family. I know I can give him what he deserves: stability, love, safety.
Thank God for this job, because now, according to their ridiculous checklist, I'm "qualified" again. I can restart the process of getting Jax out of foster care and into my life. I'll raise him right. I'll love him the way he should be loved. I'll give him the family he deserves. I'll give him everything I never had.
