The Protector (Barrett Boys #3) - Jordan Ford Page 0,3

hell am I supposed to make ends meet now?

Starting up the engine, I let the car rumble beneath me but don’t pull out of the lot. Instead, I dial my brother, hungry for a sympathy call that will take the sting out of this totally shitty night.

“Hey, you’ve reached the voice mail of Jake Adams. You know what to do.”

I hang up, throwing the phone down with a hard smack. I want to speak to him now and am suddenly uber pissed that he chose to do freaking summer classes instead of coming back to LA to see me.

His semester is going to start again soon, and the couple weekends we’ve seen each other over the last few months isn’t enough.

I hate this.

I want to be back in high school again. Sure, I hated shifting from one foster home to the next, but at least they kept Jake and me together.

This bullshit long-distance brotherhood thing sucks.

It’s impossible to just sit around shooting the breeze. Now I have to wait until he’s ready to call me back or text me or some shit.

Gunning the engine, I reverse out of the parking space and see the gas light turn on.

The little orange warning pulls a string of obscenities out of my mouth.

They’re gone by the time I reach the gas station, and I fill the tank halfway, figuring I’ll walk a little more this month. Anything to cut costs, right?

Thirty minutes later, I park against the curb and gaze up at my dingy apartment. I moved in when Jake left for college last year. It’s hardly the Hilton. More like Trashville. But it’s all I can afford.

Shouldering my door open, I cross the street and take the steps two at a time. The railing is too filthy to touch, and I know I should do something about that, but who wants to spend their free time cleaning?

“You’ve got plenty of time now, man.” I grit my teeth and unlock the door, the smell of pot hitting me the second I enter the kitchen.

I wrinkle my nose in disgust, pinching my nostrils and making a beeline for my room.

I want to get out of this place. I was actually working toward it, hoping to save some spare cash and find something better. But life’s expensive.

“Dammit!” I punch the air before flopping onto my bed and staring up at the ceiling. There’s a brown water stain in the corner that always catches my eye.

It reminds of the brown circles on the carpet in the Mosebys’ place. I always hated that carpet… and the yelling, and the cigarette smoke that permanently hazed the air. It was so caustic compared to the fresh, clean air in Montana.

I miss the ranch.

If I were there right now, I wouldn’t be stressing about work. I’d have a job. A family to lean on.

Closing my eyes, I take myself back there, four brothers and Grandpa Ray materializing in my mind instantly. I’m standing in the field just outside the house, holding up my hands and screaming, “I’m open! I’m open!”

Deeks hurls the ball at me, a beautiful spiral that hits my chest. As soon as it’s tucked against me, I start to sprint, Cooper coming at me like a silent bear. He tackles me just as I hit the line, my laughter muffled by a mouthful of grass.

My eyes pop open and I’m back in Trashville, my spirit deflating faster than a popped balloon.

I miss home.

I miss feeling like I belong in the place I’m living.

Shit, maybe I should have worked harder at school the way Jake did. But learning came easier for him. I was all about the sports. I wasn’t good enough to score myself any kind of scholarship, but I had fun. After we graduated, all I cared about was getting away from our latest foster home—finally being old enough to live on my own, make my own choices. Be a man.

A dry scoff punches out of me. So much for being a man.

With a soft groan, I slap my arm over my eyes, completely weighed down by the prospect of job-hunting yet again. I’m exhausted just thinking about it.

And what prospects will I even have?

I was a freaking good bouncer, and now I won’t be able to do that anymore.

Why can’t things fall into place for me the way they do for Jake?

I don’t want for much.

Just give me a place to belong.

My phone starts ringing and I snatch it up, my stomach knotting when I