Page 76 of Unleashed

“I bet we can.” Tucker tosses his empty bottle into one of the piles. “If for no other reason than to piss you off.”

“It doesn’t piss me off.” Genuinely. I want Zara to have as many people loving her and looking out for her as possible.

I just maybe want her to know I’m the one at the front of the line, standing right next to her sister.

“I don’t have time to argue about this.” I glance over to find Maren, Ruth, and Brooke are all now looking my way. “We have tickets to take Zara to a petting zoo, and I don’t want her to miss out on it because some fucking lowlife decided to break in.”

“We’ve got this under control.” Tucker sobers a little. “I’m real good at moving women out of unsafe places.”

At this point, it’s becoming a bit of a family tradition. Technically, Mariah moved on her own, but both Brooke and Ruth came to the Bradshaw estate under duress, and at the urging of one of us.

It worked out pretty fucking well for them, if you ask me. And us. Brooke and Ruth have been enormously helpful at McKinley Security Systems. Plus, we now have a pool and Birdie to keep us entertained.

After giving my brothers a few final directions, I leave them to it and go collect Maren, urging her away from her friend group in a polite way I hope won’t increase my chances of ending up in a hole somewhere.

Everyone in my family has opinions about the kind of man I am, so it’s likely Ruth and Brooke have reservations about Maren and Zara staying with me. Eventually, they’ll figure out those reservations are unfounded. I’m not who I am out of choice. I live the way I do out of necessity—because I don’t have any other options.

I manage to get Maren behind the wheel, taking the seat beside her before punching in directions for the petting zoo. As we drive, I check in with Zara, who has been happily playing on her tablet—thank God Maren brought it when they came to my house, so she didn’t lose everything she loves—and eating snacks while her sister and I surveyed the damage.

“How are you doing, Z?” I watch her face, trying to gauge her reactions. “Sorry that took so long.”

“It’s okay. I got to meet lots of new people.” She swipes across the screen before turning to face me. “This is Uncle Toby.”

Maren’s eyes snap to the rearview mirror. “Did you just say Uncle Toby?”

I maybe should have seen this coming. Ever since Mariah had the twins, my brothers have been obsessed with being uncles. They fight over who’s going to be the favorite, constantly attempting to one-up each other. I know Toby thought he had it in the bag with that swimming pool, but it’s Walker who Birdie’s ended up liking most. That could be why Toby’s trying to get his hat in the ring early with Zara.

“That’s who he said he was.” Zara swings her portrait toward Maren. “Does this look like him?”

“If I look at that, we all die, remember?” Maren grips the steering wheel a little tighter. “But I’m sure it looks exactly like Toby.”

That appears to be all Zara wanted to hear, because she goes back to scribbling across her screen with the stylus, seeming pretty fucking unbothered over the events of the morning.

Which is way more than I can say for her sister. Unfortunately, I’m a little worried the events bothering Maren don’t have anything to do with the state of her home.

And more to do with my family.

We pull into the privately owned petting zoo, and Maren parks the van in one of the accessible spots, aligning Zara’s door with the side offering an additional few feet of space. As soon as the engine is off, I climb out and go to work, lowering the ramp and unstrapping Zara’s chair.

Once all her bags are hooked onto the back, we set off for the small hut serving as the entrance. The young kid who takes our tickets gives Zara’s chair a weird look, and I consider gouging out his eyes. But that would lead to a lot of paperwork, so I just give him a dirty look as we begin our trek around the large enclosures.

And it is a trek.

What appeared to be smooth, paved surfaces in the online photos, are actually rutted dirt paths. Zara’s chair does okay for a while, but as the elevation lowers, the dirt becomes mud, and it’s impossible to continue.

“I think that’s it.” Maren claps her hands, sounding perky in a way I’ve never heard her as she turns to her sister. “You ready to go get some ice cream?”

“But I didn’t get to pet the goats.” Zara’s little chin wobbles. “I hate my chair.”

“I’m sure we can find you some goats to pet somewhere else.” Maren’s tone is patient and gentle as she crouches down. “Maybe we can come back later in the year when it’s a little drier.”

Or, maybe I could just buy this place. Call the blacktop company who does the lots at McKinley Security Systems, and have them add pathways so every kid can enjoy it.

That seems like the most logical thing to do.

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Maren