Craving Justice (Sons of Sydney Book 1)

by Fiona Archer

But he couldn’t.

  The elevator doors started to close. The man walked toward them, clearing the doors and stood close. Too close.

  Seth gripped the metal handles of Mal’s carrier harder, feeling the metal dig into his palms.

  “Seth?” Harper tugged on his arm. “Who is this guy?”

  The panic in Harper’s voice cut through his shock.

  When he spoke, his voice was rough and deep. “He’s Lincoln Harris. My kid brother.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  When he identified his brother, Seth watched Lincoln close his eyes as if relieved their relationship hadn’t been denied.

  Seth took a half step, the urge to hug Lincoln overwhelming. But then a flood of painful memories—the rejection, the price he’d paid for his family’s betrayal of him—locked him in place.

  He dragged in a breath. “Why are you here?”

  “To see my brother.” Lincoln’s words sliced into Seth with their simple poignancy. Or was it the wishful tone? “This isn’t easy for me either, Seth.”

  His chest tightened. True, but… Hell, he didn’t know what to think. Seventeen years had passed since he’d seen Lincoln and, along with that, a hell of a lot of history. “How did you find me?’

  “I joined the army, made it into the Australian SAS. Told a mate there I wanted to find my brother. He had a contact who could help.” Lincoln paused, letting his words sink in as he glanced again at Harper and then back to Seth. “A couple of months ago, they found you. Sent me pictures.”

  The SAS? Christ. Impressive. That explained the short military haircut. But this wasn’t the ten-year-old boy Seth remembered. A man stood before him. A stranger. “And you held off until now because...”

  He wasn’t making Lincoln’s job easy, but the guy had just turned up, giving no warning.

  Lincoln’s eyes flashed, but he reined in whatever emotion lay underneath and spoke in a disciplined tone. “I was sent on a mission. Didn’t get back until a few days ago.”

  Seth’s gut clenched. A mission. His kid brother doing Christ knows what in some hell-hole.

  No. Don’t do that. Don’t care. Not yet.

  Harper rubbed a hand over his back. “Maybe you guys need some privacy?”

  “Yeah.” Seth nodded, grateful she reminded him of his surroundings. He reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze.

  At the least, he owed Lincoln his time, and well, this was his brother. He had no bloody idea what was going on, but he couldn’t walk away without hearing Lincoln out. “There’s a bar around the corner from my apartment tower.”

  “O’Shaughnessy’s.” Lincoln shrugged at Seth’s raised brow. “I did recon of where you live. No professional enters a new territory without all the facts at hand.”

  “Right.” Seth could have laughed at the irony. Christ, another Adam. “We meet there in one hour?”

  He stepped past Lincoln and pushed the button for the elevator, which opened without delay. Thank fuck. The three of them entered and formed an awkward silence until they reached the foyer level. He wanted to say something, but his mind was still reeling from the shock of Lincoln’s appearance. There were so many questions, but where did he start?

  “See you there,” Lincoln said over his shoulder.

  “Right.” Seth answered as the doors closed.

  Once they had privacy, Harper spoke. “If you want me to go home, I understand. We can see each other tomorrow.”

  “No, I want you home when I get back from the pub.” No way was he giving up seeing Harper, and right now, she was the one keeping him grounded. “I’m going to speak to Lincoln, and we’ll have the rest of the night.”

  Her forehead creased, and she studied his face with a worried gaze. “But, you’re going to need a few hours—”

  “No, I’m not.” He had to explain, give her some idea of his thinking. With care, he placed Mal’s carrier on the floor along with the canvas carryall. Wrapping his hands around her upper arms, he pulled her close. “Look, I haven’t seen Lincoln in a long time. Seventeen years. We’re strangers, Harper. I don’t know all the facts about why he’s here, and to be honest, the situation’s bloody overwhelming right now. I’m curious about who he is, absolutely. But I also want to know more about the contacts he used to find me. And I need to get a handle on the man who shows up at a time my other family are under attack.”

  Her eyes widened as the implications of his last point sunk in. “Oh God.”

  Even thinking of Lincoln as a possible threat turned his stomach. But he couldn’t ignore the likelihood. Hell, Adam would shit bricks when Seth told him the news.

  Soon, Seth was driving into his apartment complex’s garage. Thankfully, even with buying out half the kitty stuff in the pet store, they made it up to the apartment in one trip.

  Harper settled Mal into his new brown velour bed next to the lounge. The kitten looked deceptively tiny with some of the toys he’d purchased crowded around the little guy. Hell, had he really bought that many?

  She rose from the lounge. “Can I get you anything before you go? Or call anyone for you?”

  Here he was, effectively abandoning her, and she wanted to take care of him. When did he get to be such a lucky bastard?

  “I’m fine, sweetness.” Lifting his arms out, he silently beckoned her. She rose and walked to him, pressing her cheek against his chest and snuggling close. He rubbed his chin over the silkiness of her hair and inhaled her scent. For a second, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the soft woman in his arms. “The fridge is stocked with essentials. Make yourself at home. There’s take-away menus on the counter. Go crazy with whatever you want and order for me.” Not that he had any appetite, but he couldn’t let her go hungry. “I’ll be home in an hour.”

  Maybe less if things totally went arse-over-tit.

  Harper lifted her face. “Should you call one of the guys, maybe Heath, and get them to meet you there?”

  Frustration hardened his tone. “No.” He cursed as she lowered her gaze. “Sorry, I’m edgy.” An understatement. “I need to meet with Lincoln. After that I’ll have something to tell the guys.” He lifted her chin with his finger. Her caramel gaze held worry and a hesitancy that kicked him in the guts. “I’ll be home soon.”

  “Okay.” Her soft agreement was backed up by a tentative smile.

  He released her and moved to the door, not looking back. Why did the uneasy feeling in his gut tell him that every step he took away from Harper further turned his evening to shit?

  That apprehension hadn’t lessened by the time he entered the dark wood and green leather upholstered O’Shaughnessy’s tavern. The smell of beer and too little fresh air invaded his nostrils. He spotted Lincoln sitting at the bar and walked up beside him. “Booth, down the end.” He glanced at the barman. Though not a regular, Seth came enough to be on a first name basis. “Lager, thanks, Toby.” He dropped some notes but the bartender pushed them back.

  “You’re already covered.” Toby inclined his head at Lincoln, who had reached the booth. Lincoln slid in the side facing the door. The side Seth preferred. But considering Lincoln’s profession, Seth guessed the man wouldn’t sit with his back to a room full of people by choice.

  “Thanks.” He grabbed his drink and joined Lincoln, sliding his body over the shamrock green leather, worn smooth from years of patrons doing the same.

  He gave Lincoln a chin lift. “Appreciate the drink.”

  The younger nodded, but remained silent.

  Seth decided to start with one of the details that, with his family under threat, troubled him most. “I’m going to ask you straight up how you found me.”

  Lincoln stared back, unfazed by Seth’s abrupt question. “Don’t you want to know how I am? What’s happened in the years we’ve been apart?”

  Seth sharpened his gaze. “Lincoln, you just turned up without warning. Outside of your arrival, I have” some bastard gunning for me? “a situation happening that’s sensitive. Therefore, I’d like to know who’s investigating
me.”

  Lincoln nodded, the action catching the light above their booth and highlighting the short, blond strands of his hair. “Fair enough. My friend has a brother who works for ASIO.” Seth kept his expression blank. The Australian Security Intelligence Organisation was the Aussie version of the CIA and who knew what else. “The guy can trade favors, get intel. I saved his brother’s life in Afghanistan and called in my marker.”

  “And that was me.”

  “Yep.” Lincoln slugged back a mouthful of his beer. “Years ago, I started to look on my own. When you became a ward of the state they didn’t change your surname; that didn’t happen until your adoption, and those records were sealed. I didn’t know anything about the details surrounding Aurora Justice adopting you. With my new contact, I had greater resources. When he accessed your adoption records, we had your new surname. Justice. That gave us Aurora, which led me here.” He paused, and lowered his glass to the table. “I’m sorry she’s gone. Sounds like she was a great lady.”

  “The best.” He wondered if Lincoln had ever experienced that kind of love. “Okay, what do you wish to happen now?”

  Lincoln scrubbed a hand over his scalp, and for the first time, Seth noticed the tiredness shadowing the younger man’s face. “Some conversation. I’m hoping you’ll give me a chance to explain what happened when Gran—” He broke off, catching Seth’s body tensing.

  Sit here in a bar with a near stranger as they “dealt” with their past? Not bloody likely. “There’s nothing to say about back then.”

  “Yes, there is.” The resoluteness in Lincoln’s tone reminded Seth he was dealing with a trained fighter, a man hardened to take the punches and serve them back with deadly force.

  Fair enough. Seth would serve up some brutal honesty.

  “You lied. I paid the price. Seventeen years have passed. We’re here now, and we can’t go back.” Seth drank a mouthful of lager, but it tasted like water in his mouth. “There’s nothing to add to the fractured fairy tale of our upbringing.”

  ‘Did you steal from my purse, Lincoln.’ His brother shaking his head. Eyes wet. Looking at Seth for understanding. Lincoln had hidden the five dollars in a pair of Seth’s socks. So bloody stupid. The old harpy had found it before Seth had even known of Lincoln’s crime. ‘I didn’t think so. Not my good boy.’ Then his grandmother’s hand crashed against the side of Seth’s head with such force he’d hit the doorframe, cutting a gash above his eye. ‘But you.’ Her lip curled as cold eyes judged him guilty. ‘You’re bad. Just like your mother. A bad, bad boy.’

  “Seth, I was ten years old. I made a mistake.” Lincoln fisted his hands on the table. “You have no idea how many times I’ve cursed myself for lying.”

  ‘Bad boys go to hell.’

  Hell for Seth was foster care. The beatings. The hunger. The loneliness.

  One phone call from his gran and Seth was gone. She’d locked him in his room and called the police. Social Services had turned up, and within two hours, he was in the state’s care.

  “I tried to tell her I’d lied, Seth, but she wouldn’t listen. Told me I was just making that up to save you.” Lincoln swallowed, his face losing its hardness as the shadows cast from the booth’s light added a hollowness to his cheeks.

  The man’s obvious remorse jabbed holes in Seth’s cool reserve. It had been easy to channel his anger and feelings of rejection at the memory of a person. But up close…

  Seth sipped his beer, his mind back in that terrible time, waiting after Gran called the cops. He’d tried the door, but it was locked. And the windows, too, since the old bitch had installed locks to make sure they didn’t sneak out at night. The way his heart had beat so hard it hurt.

  Was Lincoln telling the truth? Had he pleaded Seth’s case? Likely he had.

  “All kids lie at some point when caught out. Don’t feel guilty about that shit. She kicked me out, Lincoln. Not you.” He rested against the leather booth. Seeing the desperation in Lincoln’s eyes, his need to explain his actions was like a sobering slap in the face to Seth.

  Seventeen years. He’d been carrying that anger around for so fucking long. His limbs felt heavy as weariness swamped him.

  His brother looked off to the side, his voice remote. “She died. A year after she sent you away.”

  The news hung heavy between them. Seth wished he could say he felt relief, but it was more a feeling of emptiness.

  “What happened to you?” Lincoln would have only been eleven.

  “Grandpa lasted until a week after my sixteenth birthday. Alcohol poisoning.” Lincoln leaned back. “The house was rented, so I moved out. Found work on a construction site and when I was old enough, I joined the army.”

  The next words tumbled out of Seth’s mouth before he knew what was happening. “Why did you steal that money?” After everything that had happened, he deserved an explanation.

  His brother sat up, as if preparing himself to face a firing squad. “I wanted to get you something for your birthday the next week.”

  Jesus fuck.

  Seth closed his eyes against the wave of sadness that pounded him and listened as Lincoln continued.

  “The second hand bookstore had a copy of Terry Pratchett’s Johnny and the Dead. I had the money I’d earned from doing odd jobs for the neighbors, but Grandpa found it when Gran cut off his beer allowance.”

  That old bastard. He drank to drown out his wife’s sermons. And he stole from his grandson. He and Lincoln had really won the lottery on grandparents.

  “The guy in the bookstore had the book on hold for me, but it ran out that day, and I knew he had others interested. I had to get the money somehow.”

  What could Seth say? The whole mess was a bloody tragedy.

  “You’re not responsible for what happened to me, Lincoln,” he said with a tired sigh. “Gran is. Mum is. Grandpa is. All of them screwed you and me over.” He shook his head. “In a way, I’m glad you came tonight. It clears up some things I’ve wondered about. But I have one last question I’d like answered. I’m not sure if you can.”

  Lincoln shrugged. “I’ll try.”

  “I’ve never understood why Gran hated me so much. Did she ever give you a clue?”

  Lincoln drew in a breath and held it, along with Seth’s gaze. Finally, he let the air out in a loud exhale. “Yeah, she did. Mum fell pregnant with you. Whatever else had been going on in her life, she’d been able to hide it from the outside world until her swollen belly became public knowledge. Gran hated the stigma of having an unmarried mother as a child. And since you were that child...” Lincoln trailed off.

  “I represented all that was wrong with her daughter.”

  Gran’s hatred had nothing to do with him. He could have been brilliant at school, found a cure for cancer, and she’d have always hated him.

  God, what kind of an evil person hated a child for the behavior of that child’s parent?

  “Totally fucked up, Seth, but that’s the answer. I only found out because I asked Pop one night a few months after she’d passed.”

  At least the old man had been good for something in the end. “Thanks for telling me. If you want to know anything about Mum, not that I remember much, I’ll share.”

  Lincoln leaned forward on the table, his hands clasped in front of him. “I’m hoping my visit can give us both something more than that.”

  Seth tensed. Now he had to be the bastard. “I can’t promise anything right now.”

  A frown marred Lincoln’s forehead. “But you just said I wasn’t responsible for what happened.”

  “You aren’t. But you want more than us drawing a line on the past, and I understand that.” Seth glanced off at the far wall and studied the wooden framed photographs of the pub and its patrons from years past. “But I’m not where you are. I haven’t looked for you.” Jesus, that came out wrong. “Lincoln, having you turn up has been one hell of a shock. And yeah, it would be good to talk more; I’m not denying that. But I don’t know where this is goi
ng to go, and I don’t want to promise you more than I can give. Believe it or not, I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Lincoln’s eyes flashed. “I’m still your brother. That doesn’t change just because you now have dual citizenship and a new surname.”

  “That’s the point. I left my old life behind me years ago. I had to so I could survive.” He needed Lincoln to understand. “You think I could have lasted on the streets and over here, living every moment for a time that was gone for me? I had to let all of that go.”

  “Did you think about me once? Did you miss me once?”

  “No, you don’t get to make me feel guilty.” Seth’s muscles locked tight as anger swamped him. “I went back to that fucking house. Ran away from the foster home they’d stashed me in. Must have been four months after Gran got rid of me.”

  Lincoln fell silent. But Seth had plenty to say. Years of anger, resentment, and confusion lent him a wealth of words. “It was my first chance to get you and run. I walked around the corner and saw you on the street, wearing clean clothes and riding a bike.” A red one. Shiny and clean and all new. “We’d never been allowed a bike. You were laughing.” The kid next door ran after Lincoln and yelled something. “I’d never seen you so happy.” And it had shredded Seth’s heart. His little brother was doing just fine without him.

  “Gran promised if I was good she’d fight to get you back.” Lincoln’s voice was no more than a whisper. “But I had to be good. Never complain.” He drew in a ragged breath. “I can’t believe you were so close, and I never saw you.”

  What a total fuck up. And that evil bitch had lied and manipulated Lincoln up to the end.

  “I turned around and went back to my foster parents.” And copped a thrashing for running away. The big man with the sweat-stained singlet. The stench of rot-gut whiskey on his breath. ‘Little shit, think you can do better than us?’ A broken arm. Black eye. Wouldn’t be the last time Seth had ‘fallen down the stairs’. “That day is when I put everything of my previous life behind me.” His voice had a tone of finality Lincoln couldn’t miss.

  “So now the fact I’m your brother doesn’t count? I cease to exist in your universe?”