Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

Nineteen Years Ago

Chicago, Illinois

“ S top. Stop. Stop.”

Crouched behind thick, green bushes, ten-year-old Jasmine McAlister whisper-screamed the words. Her thin body trembled, her shoulders tense with misery. She wanted to put her hands over her ears to cut off the sounds but refused to give herself the comfort. If Brody had to endure this pain because of her, then she would endure the sounds of his agony for him.

If she had just done what she’d been told to do, none of this would be happening. They knew that punishing Brody would always hurt more than if she took the blows herself. It didn’t help that Brody was more than willing to take the pain for her. He thought it was his duty to protect her, and as much as she didn’t want to hurt, she hated seeing him in pain.

It lasted only five minutes or so, but it felt like a lifetime before Brody came around the corner. She watched him for a second to see how badly he’d been hurt. His mouth was set in a grim line, but the instant he saw her, he gave her a quick, wry smile. “Arthur may look like a gorilla, but he hits like a kitten.”

Jazz swallowed back a sob. She knew that wasn’t true. She’d been on the receiving end of Arthur’s giant hands on more than one occasion. The hits hurt all the way to the bone. However, after he’d left a bruise on her that had lasted over two weeks, he’d limited his meanness to mostly nasty words and mean looks. And when he really wanted to hurt her, he took out her punishment on her big brother.

“I’m sorry, Brody,” Jazz whispered. “I’ll try to be better.”

“You be you, Jazzy. Arthur’s gonna hit me every day, no matter what. Might as well be for a good cause.”

She knew he was only trying to make her feel better, but there was no denying that this was her fault. Next time Arthur told her to do something, she would do it, no matter how gross it was. Cleaning up a bathroom where he and his drinking buddies had vomited all over the floor would be a small price to pay compared with having Brody take punishment for her disobedience.

“Thank you for protecting me.”

“It’s what big brothers do.”

Despite her sorrow, she couldn’t help but smile. Brody was big—there was no denying that. At fourteen, he was already over six feet tall, had wide shoulders and hands almost as large as Arthur’s. If he wanted to, he could beat up Arthur, but if he did, they both knew what would happen. Brody would be put in juvenile detention, and she would be at the mercy of Arthur and his friends.

And he was her brother. Maybe not by blood. His daddy had married her mama when Jazz was four, but that didn’t matter. From the day he and Connor McAlister had walked in the door, they had become her family and Brody had become her protector.

For six years, they had been the perfect family. Her mama and Connor, aka Papa Mac, had been the best mommy and daddy in the world. Then one day, the police had shown up at her school and told her that her home had exploded due to a faulty gas line. Her mom and Papa Mac were gone, and she and Brody had nothing but each other. Their parents, their home, and all their possessions were gone. The next day, she and her brother had been bundled onto a bus in Atlanta and had arrived in Chicago late at night. Arthur Kelly had met them at the bus depot. Neither of them knew him, but they’d been told he was the only relative—a distant cousin of Jazz’s mother—who would agree to take them together. They hadn’t protested, because the last thing they wanted was to be separated.

Brody was all she had left in the world, and it terrified her that he would be taken from her, too.

That’s why she needed to behave and do whatever they told her to do. What would she do if they punished her by taking Brody away? She couldn’t let that happen. She wouldn’t survive without her big brother.