by Tijan
A roar of motorcycles sounded a little later, coming from the back of Manny’s.
“Are you kidding me? A flare, Bren?”
Heather didn’t waste time, now that Manny’s was safe from not burning down. She was lighting into Channing’s sister.
She didn’t get a chance to do more.
The three guys closed in, forming an actual wall, and Heather had to stop short. “Move.”
The tall and shorter ones didn’t say a word. They also didn’t move.
The golden one spoke, “Step back, Heather.”
“You don’t talk back to me, Cross. Not here. Not in my business.”
He was keeping an even tone. “I’m not meaning to disrespect you, but I’m also not going to let you lay into Bren. She had a feeling we couldn’t leave, so we didn’t. Her feeling was right, and now, we will leave.”
I looked behind them, but Bren was gone. The door was swinging shut, and before Heather could say anything more, the shorter one went next, the taller one, and the golden one remained. He held Heather’s gaze. “She had a feeling, Heather. That’s it.”
Heather mashed her lips together, not looking appeased. Not by a long shot.
“Cross, I swear—” She sighed, closing her eyes. “Make sure she’s okay.”
“Always.”
He said his piece and he was gone the next instant.
Heather stared at the door for another moment before she looked our way. “I need a drink.” She raised her voice, “Manny’s is closed. Everyone out except if I camped with you last night.” Then, “And my brother.”
Brandon just laughed. “Like fuck I’d leave anyways.”
“What about me?”
Heather sighed. “Fine. You too, Gus.”
16
Bren
“You okay?”
I was glad Cross waited this long to ask me. It was after leaving Manny’s, once we all hopped into Jordan’s truck and no one said a word. Jordan drove to my house where Cross and I hopped out. He and Z went to the party, which was the norm for us. If they needed us, they’d call. Until then, I still wasn’t a party person, though I’d been trying more lately.
I nodded as we walked up to Channing’s house.
I guess it was my house too, but it still felt like his. It’d always feel like his house. My home was over a few blocks with a ghost inside.
And as the usual for us, Cross didn’t push. He and I walked inside.
He and I went to the kitchen.
He and I did our own thing.
He made a snack for himself, usually a sandwich.
I grabbed some water.
When we were done, he and I went to my room.
We got ready for bed, then climbed in and I turned for him as he turned for me.
He and I.
Tonight, though, tonight was different. It felt different, but I couldn’t explain it.
He propped himself up on an elbow, looking down at me. “You gotta talk, Bren.”
I looked back at him. “Like you do?”
I scored a point.
He flicked his eyes upwards, but settled back down next to me. He grabbed my hand, drawing both our hands up to his chest where he began to fiddle and play with my fingers. “You talked to the Red Demons tonight. That’s pretty huge for you.”
Yeah…
I didn’t want to go there. He knew what they meant for me.
He tugged on my hand, turning his head to see me. “What do you think they were even doing here? Or doing at Manny’s?”
I shook my head, rolling it slightly over my pillow. “I don’t know.” Channing would know. And if he didn’t, Channing would deal with it. That’s what he did. He handled any threats against Roussou, or against his loved ones.
“Your brother will be pissed about what happened tonight.”
“I know.” I sighed.
“He’ll be out for a while, right?”
I grinned at him. “Yeah.”
His eyes went past me to where I’d put my phone. “You should call him, get that over with. You know he’ll want to check in with you at some point tonight.”
It was Channing’s way.
Cross was right, so I reached over and dialed my brother, putting him on speaker. It was always more fun this way.
Bar noises were almost deafening when he answered, “Tell me you’re home and you’re in bed, and you’re alone.”
Cross flashed a grin.
I refrained from laughing. “I’m in bed and I’m home.”
Silence.
I knew he was at his bar. It would’ve been insane over there this weekend too.
He cursed into the phone. “I know we do this song and dance, but seriously, Bren. Please don’t get pregnant.”
Cross started laughing.
Channing growled, “I will fuck you up, little Shaw. You know I can and you know I will.”
Cross stopped laughing, but took my phone and raised it closer to his mouth. “Bren’s not going to get pregnant. You were the one—”
“Yeah, yeah. You two say the same shit. You know that, right?” He pretended to mimic us, raising his voice “‘For all the shit we do, you did it ten times worse at our age.’” He dropped his voice back, more rough. “Yeah, well, you little fucks, I love you, but I do not want to be a grandfather so soon. You can’t have a kid before I have a kid. Got it, Bren? Cross?”
I was fighting another smile at his grandfather term, but said, “Got it, Chan.”
Cross was quiet.
“Shaw,” my brother snapped.
Cross smirked at me, saying into the phone, “Do you feel some semblance of control by saying the same shit to us? Then us saying the same shit to you?”
“It makes me not want to come home and beat the shit out of you,” Channing snapped from his end. “That’s what it does for me. It’ll help me get through one more night, and your ass had better be downstairs sleeping, alone, when I get home.”
Cross went back to laughing. “Yes, sir.”
Another savage growl bit out. “Love you guys.”
I grinned faintly at the phone, saying it back, “Love you too.”
Cross didn’t respond, but that was okay.
Channing did love us. Cross loved him too. It was a different dynamic, and maybe because of that call, Cross and I just kissed a little. We cuddled. There was some making out, but we fell asleep respecting Channing’s wishes.
Though, my brother would never be told this.
17
Mason
Sam was sleeping. Maddie was sleeping.
I snuck out and headed to the old house.
Once I pulled in, Logan left and he climbed in, yawning. “Fucking early, bro. What are we doing here?”
I reversed as I answered, “That guy asked who we were to our dad. I talked to Channing last night. That guy’s a big deal with a motorcycle club. He was not happy when he heard what happened.”
Logan yawned again, leaning forward a bit. “Guessing Heather or his sister weren’t real forthcoming with the details?”
I smirked. What Heather and the sister said was none of our business.
“So we’re what again? Again. Fucking early, Mase. Too fucking early to be leaving my woman in a nice and warm bed, where I could slide in somewhere else that nice and warm, you get me?”
I grunted, “I get you, but I want to deal with this before shit hits the fan. It might not be anything. It might be something. Dad’s at the country club, meeting some bigwig for an early morning tee time.”
Logan groaned, his head falling back to the headrest, “Shit. That means we’re going to be walking.”
I threw him a sideways look. “We’re going to be standing off against our dad. You’re groaning about walking?”
“One.” He flung his hand up. “I do not groan about anything except during sexual activities. Two, yes, I’m complaining about walking because anytime you give me a text saying, ‘Get your ass up. Gotta meet,’ I know shit is going to g
o down. That means I have to be alert up here.” He tapped his head. “But the body, the body is still back there about to come down on Taylor. You feel me?”
“Whatever.”
Then spying a coffee place, I swung in. We had time.
After ordering and handing Logan his caffeine, I scowled. “Now stop bitching and wake the fuck up.”
He was eyeing me, more wary now. “You think Dad’s mixed up with something?”
I shrugged, rolling to a stop at a stoplight. “Who the fuck knows. I just didn’t like hearing that guy speak our dad’s name and connecting dots to everyone else we love in that bar.”
“Channing will handle him. That’s his world.”
I knew that. Or I was trying to tell myself I knew that.
But…
“It’s a feeling. You heard what that kid said last night. Channing’s sister stuck around because of a feeling.”
“And you got one of those too?”
I dipped my head down. “I do. Yeah.”
Logan swore, “Well, shit then.”
“Yeah.”
That was all we spoke until we pulled into the country club’s parking lot. I turned for the golf course and pulled in beside our dad’s Bentley. Logan got out with his coffee. Not me. For some reason, I wanted my hands free, didn’t like the feeling I was getting for that either, but here we were anyways.
Logan sipped his coffee, eyeing me as he fell in step next to me. “Can’t beat anyone up, you know.”
I cursed, “You telling me or reminding me?”
“Both. I recognize that look you got going. Normally, I’d be all aboard for it, but not here. Not with Dad.”
I shot him a hard look. “Like I don’t fucking know that.”
He grinned, taking another drink. “Love you, bro. Don’t know if I say it enough.”
I paused, looking right at him.
Shit. This kid.
He was a year younger than me. We’d gone through hell and back, and he was still at my side.
“I love you too, bruh.”
“Bruh.” He scowled. “What the fuck? I’m not a bruh. I’m a bro. Get your terms right, jeez, old man.”
“What do you usually say? ‘My bad?’”
Logan started laughing. “Jackass.”
“That shit, I learn from you.”
He laughed harder, tipping his head back.
Yeah. It felt nice doing this with Logan.
Spotting their cart, we had to walk two hills.
Logan said as we did, “Taylor wants to move back here after law school.”
I slowed my pace. “That’s what you want?”
He lifted up a shrug, finishing his coffee. “She wants to be around her dad. I want to be around you guys.”
“Sam and I talked about getting a house here.”
“Really?”
I nodded. “For the off-season, and that’s if I don’t get traded.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“You never know with wide receivers. Salary caps and shit.”
“That’s messed up.”
“That’s business.”
He grunted, “True.” Then he changed the subject, “Something’s up with Nate.”
“I know.”
“Is he talking to you?”
“We talk, but he’s not said much. Just that stuff is shifting in his family.”
Nate was a touchy subject for both of us. I wasn’t sure where to step and where not to step, and I didn’t know what Logan all knew either.
Finally, Logan just sighed. “He’s never opened up much about his family, not his siblings. He just hated his parents. That’s all I remember from back then.”
“I know.”
Logan’s voice grew distant. “You ever feel we weren’t there for him? Not as we should’ve been?”
I stopped, facing him. The dad stuff could wait. This conversation just took priority.
“What are you saying?”
Logan sighed, looking off over the golf course, but I doubted he was seeing any of it. “I’ve heard a little, and what I’ve heard makes me feel like we weren’t there. Not like he was for us. We were caught up in our lives, dealing with our shit. We didn’t help him with his shit.”
“Nate didn’t ask.”
Logan shook his head. “Negative. That doesn’t stand. We should’ve been there—”
“He came back when we had Sam with us. We were taking care of her, then her psychotic mother was trying to put me in jail. Nate came back, but he had an attitude. He never talked. He never asked. He was there and he was pissed, and some of that was because we had Sam. Are you forgetting that shit?”
“No, but—”
“But nothing. Nate and I were close. He was there for me, and I’ve never forgotten that, but brother, he came back and he wasn’t quite the same. Our lives were falling apart. Broudou. The girls putting Sam in the hospital. Nate was in the hospital—”
“He went in because of us.”
“Yeah, because he was around. Because we were friends, but I asked. I was there, but I was only there as much as he would let me. He didn’t let me. He was fucking a girl who wanted to hurt Sam. He chose the fraternity over me. Don’t think I didn’t note that shit, because I did. I saw it. I watched it, and I asked. No one knew I did, but I did. I couldn’t help because Nate didn’t want help. And he was doing shit that put him against us. I had to choose what line to stand on, and there’s never a question. I stand with Sam and I stand with you. Always. Even if I have another brother bleeding, but if he’s on the other side and if I cross that line and it hurts you, or Sam? Then I can’t cross the line.”
I knew what Logan was talking about, some of it happened not long ago, and this needed to be hashed out right here and now.
“I love Nate. Our friendship goes in waves, but I’ll always have love for him. But I repeat, this is no excuse, but you cannot help if they are not open, and I’m not talking where you kick down a door. I’m talking a cement wall, backed up with landmines and a tunnel to get away. Nate is closed off. Deep down, he’s closed off, and until something makes that open up, no one can get in. Not really.”
Logan shifted back on his heels. “He’s not closed off with me.”
“Yeah, he is. You just never realized it.”
It was a shot at my brother, but fuck. I took it.
His eyes flared.
He received it.
“You fuck.”
“Maybe. Ask him about his brother, then you’ll get it.”
He tipped his chin up, his nostrils flaring. “Maybe I fucking will.”
“Then you fucking do that.”
“Mason? Logan?”
We’d gotten distracted, so distracted that our dad got the jump on us.
Crap.
Logan snorted in laughter, and I knew I’d never live that down. And turning, there he was, walking toward us. A golf cart was behind him on the trail, their caddy at the wheel and the guy he was golfing with in the back. All watching us.
“You guys are in town?” James smiled at us, and the kick was that he seemed genuine.
A part of me was loath to even go down this line of questioning, but I had to. Things had gotten better between him and both Logan and me, Analise and Sam as well, but there was still a whole frosty layer of anger I had toward him. Maybe not anger. Maybe just distrust?
My dad was someone you couldn’t trust, even his own kid.
I knew that was a golden rule long ago, so I stamped all the annoying shit down inside of me and faced off against James Kade.
I just needed a look. That’s all I was searching for.
So, I threw out the first bait. “Ran into a Maxwell last night.”
I stopped, watched.
Nothing.
James seemed confused. There was no reaction. At my silence, he prodded, “Maxwell?”
Logan had eased back. He was letting me take the lead.
“He runs a motorcycle club.”
T
here. His mouth flattened. He eased back a step, but caught himself.
He knew him, or he knew about the club.
“Really? That’s interesting.”
“Fuck, Dad. At least sound convincing.” From Logan.
James tossed him an annoyed look before focusing back on me. “What’s this about? We should have lunch. Is Samantha here? Maddie? Analise would love to see her granddaughter.”
“Fucking hell, Dad!” Logan exploded. “She’s not my goddaughter’s grandmother. Malinda is. That’s it. Helen ain’t. Analise ain’t. You’re all proxied uncles and aunts and shit, but not her grandparents. That’s reserved for Sam’s dad and Malinda.”
James’ eyes flared.
He was going to say something.
I got in there first. “We were going to get our asses kicked last night, Dad.”
Another flare, but he liked hearing me say that. I could still be a manipulative bastard. Good to know. I’d have to take an extra shower later.
I kept going, “He heard who we were, asked if we were your sons, and then he called his boys off. Now I want to know why he did that.” I tipped my head to the side. “You in business with a motorcycle club?”
He didn’t answer.
“They’re outlaws, Dad.”
Logan was toying with him too, though it was more of a taunt coming from him.
James lowered his head, cleared his throat, and readjusted the brim of his golf hat. “Look, I’m not appreciating what you’re inferring, but you’re wrong. It’s the opposite, actually. If you think he let you go because of me, that wasn’t the case. A ways back, when we first moved in, we pulled business from some of the smaller towns. Yes, that happened. I was blamed, but it wasn’t my fault. That’s like asking a businessman not to do business. I do business. That’s what I’m good at, but yeah, there were some locals who were angry with us.”
What the fuck was he talking about?
“Dad.” Logan’s voice was like steel.
Both of us turned to him.
He was locked on James, his look harsh. “I’m good at what I’m learning to do. Reading between the lines, and what you’re not saying isn’t making me proud to be your son.”