by Callie Rae
“Shit! I forgot she asked us to have dinner tonight.” I turn to Cason, who is laying against his headboard looking jacked up. He showered, so at least the blood is gone, but his face is bruised, and his eye is still swollen shut.
“He can’t go down there looking like this,” Jade says. “Mom will flip. Dad will ask too many questions.”
“I’ll just tell them you’re sick,” I say.
“She’ll just want to come check on me,” Cason says. His voice is laced with pain. “There is no way out of this one, guys. I’m going to be banged up for a while. She’ll see me eventually. May as well get it over with. Besides, this isn’t the first time one of us has shown up bruised and beaten. She’ll think we’re up to no good, yell at us, cry about it, and then tell me she loves me.”
“And James?” I ask. “He’ll see through it, you know.”
“It is what it is. Tell him I was drunk and ran into a fist on the wrong hand. He’ll accept that we were being dumb boys. He expects that from us.” He groans as he sits up. I give him my hand to help lift him to his feet.
“I don’t like this. At all.” Jade eyes Cason as he reaches the door and stands next to her.
He pats her shoulder and offers her a smile. “It’s the best part, little sis. Think of all the girls I can get to kiss my boo-boos.” I’m sure he’d wink at her if he could.
Jade rolls her eyes and steps out of his way. Cason continues his slow trek downstairs with her following close behind like a worried mother, and I stare after my siblings.
Cason rolls with the punches but he wouldn’t have to if it wasn’t for me. Neither of them would have to if I did a better job of taking care of my family.
I follow them to the dining room. Cason stops just short of the entrance and braces himself with a hand up on the wall. He closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. I know that look—he’s preparing himself. It’s what we do when we can’t show pain to Mom and we need an impenetrable wall to face Dad.
He opens his eyes and looks forward.
“You ready for this?” I whisper as I stand alongside him and look into the room where Mom is placing the dishes of food on the massive dining table.
Cason nods, pushes off the wall and walks in. Mom doesn’t see him at first. She’s too busy rearranging the food. But the moment she looks up, all bets are off. Her worry instantly flashes across her face and she goes into full Mom-mode.
“Cason! Oh my god, what happened to you?” she asks as she rounds the table to reach him. The moment she does she begins to run her hands gently over Cason’s body, checking him over. She begins to lift his shirt, and he holds back a wince the best he can as he shoves her hands down.
“Momma C, I’m fine. I was just roughing it up with the boys and things got a little out of hand,” he tells her.
She reaches up and gingerly touches his face, her eyes searching his for the truth. “Oh baby, are you sure? I’m taking you to the doctor. Just let me get my keys.”
She starts to walk away but Cason catches her hand. “Mom, look at me. I promise I’m okay. I don’t need a doctor. But I do need that cornbread I spy on the table . . .”
He puts his arm around her shoulders, steering towards the table. “You made it from scratch, right? Please tell me that’s your cornbread. Cause that’s the best medicine I could get right now.”
Mom chuckles weakly as Cason sits down at the table. “Of course it is. Here baby, let me fix your plate.”
Cason willingly gives his plate over to her, and she begins piling on the food. Cason looks up to me and smirks. He’s going to soak up all the babying he can get out of her. And she’ll take it as far as he’ll let her, because one of her babies is hurt.
“You sure you didn’t fall into a fist looking for that damn girl?” James’s voice slithers in like a snake ready to strike. I find him leaning in the doorway with his tie loose and his sleeves rolled up, holding on to a half-empty glass of scotch. I was prepared for shit from him, but sober shit is much easier to deal with than drunk shit from James Callaway.
“James, let’s not do this tonight. I just want to have one nice dinner together. Can you manage that?” my mother asks. She tries to keep the exasperation from her tone, but we can all hear it.
James shrugs one shoulder and walks in, taking his seat at the head of our table.
“Your son gets jumped over some random girl who has done nothing but bring trouble to our family. She is holding them all back from their full potential. But sure, we can sit down and pretend nothing is wrong here,” James says. He gestures to the table with one hand while still holding onto that scotch with the other. “Please, let’s continue,” he says sarcastically. “Sit down and fix your plates.”
“James,” Mom says wearily.
“Sit down, Catherine.” His hand slams on the table. My mother jumps but finds her seat between him and Cason.
I look to Cason and then Jade, who are both looking a little tense. I slowly walk to my chair and sit down across from my mother. I keep my balled hands under the table. I don’t want to provoke him, and seeing me angry is just the thing that will make him explode.
We fix our plates without speaking and eat in silence for a few moments.
“How is basketball going?”My mother quietly asks.
“It’s fine,” I answer.
“What about cheer, Jade?” Catherine looks to Jade.
“It’s good. We think we have a chance at going to nationals this year,” Jade says. She tries at first to answer with enthusiasm, but it falters when she looks around the table to the tense atmosphere.
“That’s great, honey,” my mother says with a weak smile.
We continue to eat without speaking. The only sounds in the room are the tiny dings and clinks of silverware on plates. This family dinner is going great—not.
“So, Jesse . . . any updates on Fallon?” my mother asks.
“No, no word yet. The police haven’t seemed to make any progress.” I don’t want to worry my mother. Letting her believe that the police are handling it is for the best.
“Well, just let the police do their job. They’ll find her,” she says with surety as she reaches across the table to pat my hand. The hope in her eyes is the exact opposite of what I feel.
James cuts into the conversation. “Tell me. This girl, what is it about her that has you both pining for her so much that you run around like two little thugs?” James asks while looking pointedly at Cason.
My mother’s fork clinks to her plate as she pulls her hand back. She looks over to her husband, her aggravation matching that of the rest of the table.
“Don’t answer that Cason,” I growl while glaring at my father.
James’s gaze whips to me. “Now you’re answering for him?” he sneers. He looks back to Cason. “Son, I asked you a question.”
“Do not answer that,” I say again. I grip my fork tightly, trying to maintain any sense of calm. It’s not easy dealing with the man I’m supposed to call father.
“Neither of you need the distraction right now. Jesse, you have a responsibility to this family. It’s time you start taking an interest in the company. You’ll be graduating soon. Stop the nonsense with this girl. She isn’t worth throwing away your future,” my father lectures.
Cason meets my eyes, and there’s a warning there. It’s one that I can’t ignore, because he’s going to blow. He then turns to look to our father. “I wonder where we get that from. You know, pining over a girl?”
“You ungrateful little—” James growls.
I throw my chair back and stand up. I’ve had enough.
“Fallon isn’t just ‘some girl.’ Not everything is about your precious fucking company. But you don’t give a shit about anything else, do you?” I lean in towards my father, my fury dripping from my tone.
His eyes shine with some dark, unnamed emotion as he matches my stare. “Don’t test me, son. You know your place in this
family, and it’s about time you take it seriously,” he says.
“Fuck my place in your family.” I round the table to kiss my mother on the head before I head out the door.
“James, was that really necessary?” I hear my mom whisper as I cross through the door.
Cason and Jade catch up with me outside as I stalk to my car.
“Jesse, where are you going?” Jade asks.
I reach the driver’s side and yank open the door and get in. I’m turning over the key in the ignition before the door even shuts.
“Don’t worry, I got him!” Cason yells over the hood to Jade as he jumps in the passenger seat before I peel out of the driveway.
As I speed off down the road, Cason asks, “What are we doing, dude?”
“Finding Fallon,” I reply tersely.
“And how, exactly, do you plan on doing that?” Cason asks as he reaches for the handle on the roof. I don’t blame him; I’m not exactly being careful.
“We’re going to give Jax a visit,” I reply as I punch the gas.
“What’s the plan here? Are we just going to sit out here all night?” Cason asks. We’ve been parked outside of Jax’s place for a while, just watching. Waiting. Cason adjusts himself in his seat, trying to find a comfortable way to sit. With his ribs all wrapped up sitting in the car has to be painful. He’s got a broken rib and a black eye. Other than a cut over his eyebrow and his broken rib, he’s mostly just bruised up. I know it hurts; I can see it in his face and his movements. But he refused to stay home. His beating only convinced him we need to find Fallon faster.
“We wait until he’s alone,” I say, eyes focused solely on the party house before us.
“And then what? We rush in and beat the shit out of him? Cason says this just as the last few people stumble out the front door and climb into a run-down, rusted vehicle.
“And then we wing it,” I tell him as the car passes. I open my door to leave, but Cason remains in the passenger seat. I pop my head back in the car and see him watching me warily. “You good dude? I can do this on my own if you—”
“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m not letting you go in Jax’s crib alone. Fallon will kick my ass when she gets home if I let you walk into a trap on your own.” Cason snorts. “I got your back, brother.”
Cason holds his fist out, knuckles facing me. I look from his fist to his face, the meaning behind that one word—brother—reflects deeply in his eyes. He always has my back. But the fact that he’s hurting, both inside and outside, and is still here means more to me than anything he could say. I give him a curt nod and smash my knuckles against his.
“Let’s do this.” Cason hops out the car and jumps a few times to get himself amped up. Broken rib or no, it isn’t going to stop him.
We have no idea what we are walking into. For all I know, this could be a trap that leads to a shitty situation for us and for Fallon. But at this point, I’ve lost all sense of reason. I need my girl back, and right now this is the only way I know how to do that.
We slowly make our way to the edge of the house, keeping close to the ugly brick that lines the building. I duck below a window that peeks through to the kitchen and creep closer to the front door.
I huddle up behind the frame and reach over to beat on Jax’s door. It doesn’t take long before the light turns on and I hear the click of the lock and the sound of the doorknob turning. The door opens. When Jax doesn’t find the person pounding on his door, he steps onto the porch and looks around. I see him tense as he steps out from under the light and peers around the corner. Cason and I back away slowly to stay cloaked in the darkness. Finally, Jax calls out. “Yo, stop fucking around. Who’s there?”
He pushes the door all the way open, and just as he’s about to step back inside, I see my opening. I prepare to move quickly. “Now,” I hiss.
I pick him up by the waist, half-carrying, half-shoving him back into his house. Cason follows me inside and shuts the door. I listen for the click of the deadbolt.
“What the fu—” Jax says before I slam him face-first into the nearest wall.
Cason wraps him up in a hold so I can back off and question this fool.
“Get the hell off of me,” Jax growls. He bucks his body trying to get free. Cason holds him down but not without consequence. Pain flashes across Cason’s face but he doesn’t let go. I need to make this quick.
“I can’t do that,” Cason says through gritted teeth as he puts all his weight into holding Jax down.
I can’t waste time on bullshit, so I get straight to the point. “Where is he, Jax?”
“What the fuck? Where is who?” Jax says.
“You know who, you prick. Marcus! Where is Marcus?” I say in-between clenched teeth. My patience can barely handle this game, the back-and-forth, cat-and-mouse bullshit this fucker is giving me right now.
“Are you fucking with me right now?” he asks.
“Does it look like we’re fucking with you? Answer the question.” Cason slams him into the wall once, then twice. Just a little extra to get our point across.
“Okay, okay, okay! Fuck. Stop!”
Cason loosens up a tiny bit but still has Jax wrapped up against the wall in a tight hold. I’m impressed that he’s been able to hold him off this long with his injuries.
“I don’t know where the fucker is,” Cason prepares to slam him again, and he leans to his side to brace himself for the pain.
“Wait! Man, chill. I don’t know where he is, but I know he has five grand worth of product on him and hasn’t paid up yet.”
Cason locks eyes with me over his shoulder. “What do you mean?” I ask cautiously.
“I mean cousin-dearest fucking jacked me. He didn’t show up for the trade and isn’t answering his phone. He’s got my money.”
“He’s your cousin?” Cason asks at the same time I ask, “When was the trade?”
“Last night,” Jax says, “and yeah, he’s blood. My dad’s sister’s kid.”
I meet Cason’s eyes again. I glance back to Jax. I check for any sign he might be lying. Jax is easy to read; he doesn’t mask his face nearly as well as he should. I hate to admit it, but I believe him. He doesn’t know shit about Fallon. If he did, he would have slipped by now.
Fuck, this shit just got even more twisted. But I actually think this fucker is telling the truth.
“Let him go,” I say to Cason.
Cason gives me a double take. “Wait, what?”
“Let him go,” I say again.
“Dude, we just jumped him in his own house,” Cason says. “We can’t just let him go.”
“Let him go, Cason,” I say, but this time I’m stern as I meet Cason’s eyes. “Trust me, brother.”
Cason stares at me for a second, evaluating my sanity. I can see it. He thinks I’ve lost it. And while that is very possible, I still believe Jax. I also have a plan and will need to use Jax.
“I hope you know what the fuck you’re doing.” Cason says as he lets go of Jax and backs up. Jax straightens up and faces us but doesn’t make a move on us. He’s outnumbered.
“Who the fuck jumped you?” Jax asks as soon as his eyes lay on Cason.
“Where was the trade?” I ask, avoiding the question. Jax doesn’t need to know what happened to Cason or the extent of his injuries, or he just might try something.
Jax chuckles. “The Depot.”
“You were making a trade on our fucking turf?” Cason snorts, “Shit, that’s kind of genius.”
“I know y’all pay off the cops to keep that place the way it is. Makes it the perfect place for a trade.”
“Stay on track,” I snap. “Where else could Marcus go? Where’s your aunt?”
“Nah, man. No idea. I don’t know him that well. He only comes around when my dad calls him. My aunt lives a few hours from here.”
I watch him closely. I see no ticks, no tells, no indication he’s a lying waste of space.
&nbs
p; “Wait, is this about your girl? I heard she left you high and dry at that party. Is that why that fucker took my money? Over your girl?” Jax growls. “She’s starting to become a problem, Jesse.”
I don’t answer him or acknowledge the threat in his tone. I look to Cason. “Let’s go.”
“Hey! Hold up. If you find him, I want my money. You hear me?” Jax yells at us as Cason and I file out of his front door and head down the sidewalk and around the corner to where I’d parked the car. “I want my fucking money, you assholes!”
I reach my car and hop in the driver’s seat, gripping the wheel hard. Cason gets in the passenger seat, slamming the door quickly. He falls into his seat and lets out a groan as he grabs onto his ribs.
“You good man?” I ask.
He points to his ribcage. “This? This ain’t shit.” He chuckles but it quickly turns into a groan. He takes a few deep breaths and readjusts in his seat.
“How long do you think it’ll take?” he asks.
“I don’t know. He’s telling the truth. He may not actually know where Marcus is,” I say with dread. I’m worried because, right now, he’s our only hope at finding the psycho who took Fallon. And that hope is quickly dwindling with every step we make.
“I don’t believe that shit for a minute. Did you hear what I heard? He’s blood,” Cason growls.
“It’s not always about blood,” I say as I intently look at Cason. Cason isn’t my blood brother, but he’s still my family. But I’ll never claim my father, and half my DNA comes from that asshole.
“He knows something. No way he’s completely in the dark,” Cason says fiercely. “So, what do we do now?”
Just as soon as the words fall out of Cason’s mouth, I look through a break in the hedges we’d parked behind and see Jax bounce out of his crib and head straight for his car, stopping briefly to check his surroundings. He’s looking for us, but I was smart enough to park somewhere he couldn’t spot us easily. Where are you going, Jax?
“We follow him.”
Marcus had us packed up, or rather himself packed up, within ten minutes after his visitor left. I felt more like a piece of his luggage than anything else. Either way, we were in his truck flying down the road in no time. He didn’t even give me a full hour to accept the fact that whatever chance I had at being rescued is about to become non-existent. I’m not even sure where we are headed.