Chapter 2

And Then There Were Three

Edward

Anthony Cullen was the apple of our father's eye. He was one of those motherfuckers that could do everything wrong and nothing wrong all at the same time, and he made damn sure to rub it in my face every chance he could. Even as snotty kids, Anthony was a little prick. He always found a way to blame his fuck-ups on me which always earned me a swift smack to the ass or a belt across the backs of my legs without fail. The vivid memories of dear ole' dad connecting that fucked up old belt across my ass because baby brother was a lying prick makes my blood boil just thinking about it. As soon as I graduated from high school I hoped on the first bike I ever bought from old man Skinner and hauled ass straight outta that town without not so much as a fuck you on my way out. The day I left I swore that none of them would ever lay eyes on me again. It was a promise that I wholeheartedly kept, and when I found out that little brother had left him as his next of kin it threw me for a loop and nearly made me laugh.

I left home seventeen years ago and have only seen my brother one other time.

The day our little sister Emily died, of an overdose of heroin, almost sent me to my own fucking grave. She was what I considered a lost soul straight from the gate. When we were kids Emily clung to my side like, holding on to me as if I were a life preserver, saying that I was the only one that understood her. God, I loved my baby sister. When she'd finally hit rock bottom I moved her in with me after her last relapse and weeks before her death. When the funeral came around, I wanted to fucking die. When our father demanded that Emily be buried in the family plot even though she made me swear that I would never allow that to happen, it destroyed me when I gave in, allowing the old fuck to overpower me on that decision, giving in to the bastard that made me feel like that small, scared child for all those years earlier.

Up to this point, I haven't stopped hating myself for it.

I blink my eyes a couple times and blow out a heavy breath. After the officers informed me of Anthony's death, they explained to that I'd need to make necessary arrangements for his body. The only problem was that little brother's body was in Chicago and I hate fucking planes. Two days later, I found myself sitting in a large office overlooking the City of Chicago, a place I swore I'd never again step foot in. Fate's a nasty little bitch and she reared her ugly head this time.

A throat clears behind the mahogany desk that I sat in front of. "You know, Mr. Cullen, we could always find a suitable foster family for them both if it's too much for you to take on right now. I'm not entirely sure that they'll be able to stay together but we'll do our best."

The forms scream in my face to run, take flight and never look back while I still had the chance. But I can't. I won't. I need to quit being a pussy, man up, take the bull by the proverbial horns and trudge through this shit storm that's now whacking me square in the face.

My head snaps up as I regard the Prada-wearing attorney in front of me. I eyeball the nameplate that sits firmly on her desk. "No, Ms. Jenks," I reply. "They're fuckin' family. I have to take them. We'll be fine."

The sigh that leaves the woman's mouth is relief and irritation all at the same time. I watch as she jots a few lines down, no doubt about our visit, in her tidy little notebook.

"Language, Mr. Cullen," the woman responds with a cock of her brow as she pulls out more forms that I'm sure will more than likely end up giving me a bigger fucking headache than I already have. "I need you to read these over carefully and sign and date each of one."

"What are these?"

"This one is your brothers Last Will and Testament. You don't need to sign it. It explains that the children are to be placed in your care if you so choose to take them which you have and it also name's you as the executor of their estate," the attorney explains. "You will be in charge of the entire inheritance the children are to receive until they reach the legal age as stipulated in the Will. You will also be awarded a nice little chunk each month that will help you provide for the children until they reach the age of eighteen."

I shake my head. "We don't need that shit. I can provide for them."

Exasperated, the woman places her pen on the desk and removes her glasses from her face. "Look, Mr. Cullen," the woman says, placing her fingertips at her temples. "I'm sure that this must be very hard for you and a bit overwhelming. I mean losing your brother and all, but I'm only trying to do what is says in his will. If you choose not to utilize the monthly stipend, that's up to you. Either way, the money will be deposited into the account that has been set up for the benefit of the children. So, as soon as you're done signing the guardianship forms I'll take you to see the children."

I take a deep breath and sign the last form, successfully not having a complete heart attack.

Following Ms. Jenks downtown to the Children's Services Department has my nerve endings on fire. How the hell am I going to raise two small kids on my own because they sure as shit don't come with fucking instructions.

Parking alongside the attorney, I scrub my face and let out a long, shaky breath. "What the fuck am I doing?" I ask myself, closing the door to my rental.

"You ready, Mr. Cullen?" Ms. Jenks asks, smiling tightly at me as she leads me to the building.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

As we pass through the entrance, I'm fully aware of the attention I'm getting from various bystanders. And here I thought I looked pretty damn good dressed in a new pair of denim jeans, a white t-shirt, and my leather riding boots. Normal. Of course, there's the fact my beard was still a bushy mess and my hair is still a chaotic clusterfuck. Yeah, that shit hasn't changed over the years. No matter how many times I've tried to shellac the shit out of it, it still sticks up in a thousand different directions which personally pisses me off.

Making the short trip down the hall and around two corners, I find myself forgetting about the fucking disaster on top of my head as we enter a small room fit for entertaining children. Slowly stepping inside, the next thing I see almost fucks with my head.

Sitting on a small couch are two small children. I not able to get a good look at their faces as they sit cuddled up into next to each other. I know what that shit is like being so young and feeling lost and fucking alone. It's a knife to the gut. I know because I lived that shit every damn day of my childhood with a man that would've rather shipped my ass off to some remote piece of hell than be a father to me.

Ms. Jenks face softens as she takes in the two small children nearly glued to one another. "The little boy, Tyler, hasn't spoken since we brought him here. And Cassidy, well, she's only said a few words."

"How old are they?"

"Cassidy's ten and Tyler is four," Ms. Jenks replies.

"What about their mother?"

"What I gather about the mother is that she's no longer in the picture. Apparently, she left when Tyler was just one-year-old," Ms. Jenks began. "I've spoken to a few friends of your brother's that have told me the children's mother was very heavily into drugs and just up and left one day."

"Have the kids told you her name?"

I'm curious and have every right to be. I'm taking on something that I'm sure is going to drive me bat shit crazy in the long run and I want to know who this deadbeat baby mama is before she shows up on my doorstep one day in search of her kids.

Ms. Jenks sighs. "The only thing Cassidy has told me is that she doesn't remember much about her mother, and your brother, well, he never talked about her. There aren't any pictures of her either. It's pretty much like she never existed. So, don't worry. She can't do anything at this point. The judge was quick to make certain that if she tried to come back and contest guardianship at any time, it wouldn't be granted," she says in a reassuring tone, placing her small hand on my forearm. "She's not getting these kids."

Just a few hours ago I wasn't even sure that I wanted the kids. But whether I want them or not or whether I'm ready to become an insta-parent is irrelevant. The fact of the matter is that the two of them don't deserve a drug addict for a mother and I'm damn sure gonna see that never happens.

Tyler and Cassidy. Those were the names of my grandparents, my father's parents. I think it's actually fitting for little brother to have named his children after them, considering our grandfather put Anthony's ass on the same pedestal our father did. Our grandmother, Liza, was another story. I'd always been her favorite.

"Let me introduce you."

As I slowly follow Ms. Jenks towards the two small children sitting in front of us, I realize that I know absolutely nothing about them. As far as I'm concerned all they do is eat, sleep, crap and scream. I don't know the first thing about taking care of kids. Hell, I killed that guinea pig I had a few years back, and don't get me started on that crazy cat that I gifted to Jasper's younger sister because that thing lost his damn mind one morning when he tried to impale me with his claws.

"Hey, guys," Ms. Jenks says in a low tone while the kids look at her with wide eyes. "There's someone I'd like you to meet. Actually, he's super exited to meet you."

I silently stand in front of them glued to my spot next to the woman, waiting for her to make the introductions. I'm not too sure how they're going to react to me seeing as though they've never met me before and more than likely never even knew that I existed up to until now. The whole situation is a fucked up mess.

"This man, right here," the attorney says, pointing to over to me. "This is your Uncle Edward. He's your dad's brother."

Cassidy is the first to acknowledge me. She eyes me closely, taking in my appearance, her grimace noticeable. Her mouth says nothing but her eyes speak volumes, and she looks like she's not having any part of her current situation.

"We…we don't have any uncles," she replies, although it comes out more like a whisper. "And that's a stupid name."

"Yeah, it is kind of a stupid name," I reply, earning a sour expression from the girl.

I feel sorry for the young girl. For both of them. I know that none of what they are going through is easy and I also know that it will take moving mountains and grasping at straws to ease any of the pain either of the kids are going through, and for once in my fucking life I'm experiencing emotions that are foreign to me. Empathy, sympathy or any other 'pathy' has never been in my fucking vocabulary.

"Well, sweetheart," Ms. Jenks replies, kneeling down in front of the children and trying her damndest to toss them a genuine smile. "I guess today is your lucky day because that man is definitely your uncle. Would either of you like to say hello?"

"No. We don't have any uncles. We don't have any family." Cassidy gives me a sideways glance. "They're all dead. Just like our dad and probably our mom too."

My eyes immediately go wide as I take in Cassidy's features that seem to twist and turn with emotion. How am I going to get through to a kid like that? A kid who is without a doubt lost. I'm a fucked up position and am certain that I'm gonna fail them both.

"I don't…I don't think I can do this," I say, leaning in close to Ms. Jenks. "They deserve better. Better than what I can give them."

"You'll do fine, Mr. Cullen," Ms. Jenks replies, placing a hand on my shoulder.

Before I can utter any half-assed words of reassurance, the small boy who is wrapped in Cassidy's arms peeks over his own arm that was gently covering his face. I'm immediately crushed. The tears that stick to the little boys face makes my heart ache for the kid but more so seethe with fury at my brother for not being careful. Sure, it was a car accident. But motherfuck. Couldn't Anthony have been a little more cautious on the streets? He had kids to think about for fucks sake. I realize how idiotic I sound to myself. I know that it's my minds fucked up way of making things seem reasonable. But none of this shit makes any sense to me. None of it. It's a fuckin' mess.

I'm pulled back from my mental tirade when I feel a small tug on the hem of my t-shirt. When I look down a set of big, bright, blue eyes stare back at me, red-rimmed and full of tears. How can someone so small deal with shit this big?

I know how you feel, buddy.

"You know my daddy?" Tyler asks as tears slide down his pink cheeks.

I bend down so we we're eye level. "I'm his brother. Your uncle, Edward."

The small boy moves even closer to me, situating himself between my bent knees which damned near topples me. "My sissy says that daddy is in Heaven now. Do you know where Heaven is? I want to go see him. Can you take me to Heaven, Uncle Edward?"

For the first time in my adult life I'm at a loss for fucking words, and when the small boys tiny arms wrap around my waist it immediately makes me flinch because that kind of stuff scares the living shit out of me.

All of this is new to me, and something told me that I was royally fucked