CLASH: Gentry Generations

by Brent, Cora

  Creed stepped away from them and crooked a finger at me, beckoning. I saw Deck shake his head and proceed through the glass doors that led to the parking lot. A meeting was being called and they didn’t want it to happen in the waiting room where others might overhear.

  “You okay here?” I asked Taylor, knowing I needed to follow my uncles.

  Taylor was definitely not okay. But at least she was with friends, which for now was the next best thing to being in my arms.

  “We’ll stay with her,” Paige promised. She patted Taylor’s leg.

  Derek continued to shadow me as I crossed the waiting room. Somewhere beyond those glass doors waited a squad of Gentry men and even though my mind was being pulled in about eight different directions I was expected to go out there and deal with them and so I would.

  I’d barely made it outside when Derek stepped in front of me.

  “Whatever you want to do, Kel, I’m there for it.”

  He wasn’t even quite sure what was going on but he was leaving the decision up to me. If I determined that Thomas needed to be avenged then he would have my back without question. But Derek had already been to prison for drunk driving. His probation had just ended. I would never consider involving him in any situation that might jeopardize his freedom.

  “I know that, man,” I said, touched by his devotion even as I knew I couldn’t use it.

  The early darkness of mid autumn had fallen and I had to squint to find where my uncles were clustered beside a light pole.

  The two police officers who’d arrived in the lobby earlier exited right behind us. I figured they had to be the same ones who’d questioned Thomas. One of them kind of eyeballed Derek and me but said nothing. They climbed into their police cruiser and drove off.

  “Boys,” called Uncle Cord. “Get over here.”

  Derek questioned me with a raised eyebrow and I shrugged. We loved and respected these men almost as much as our own father. Whatever our uncles had to say to us, we were obliged to listen.

  “How’s your girl?” Cord asked me when I caught up to them.

  “Traumatized and terrified.” I sighed. “But physically I think she’s all right.” I frowned. “I’m kind of surprised the cops didn’t want to talk to her too.”

  “I might have put in a call,” Deck said evasively.

  “You have cop friends?”

  “I have all kinds of friends.” He was thoughtful as he stroked his gray and black beard. “The department will go through the motions of investigating. But this particular crime will remain unsolved by police standards.”

  “And what the hell does that mean? I’m not letting these bastards walk.”

  “Hey.” Creed snapped his fingers in my face. “Don’t be a fucking idiot. I was almost a fucking idiot once. My brother was in the hospital. I knew who’d put him there. And I wanted to make them bleed. Cord stopped me. And he was right. If he hadn’t stopped me that night I would have taken a step that would have cost me the future I had yet to find.”

  That was a hell of a long speech for stoic Uncle Creed. The story was one I’d heard before. Years before I was born, before my father had even met my mother, he was jumped outside a local gym and nearly killed. The culprits were a pack of shitheads my dad and uncles had run into before. Uncle Creed intended to pay a visit to the frat house where they lived and inflict an even worse version of the beating they’d given my dad. Uncle Cord talked him out of it at the last minute. The Gentry triplets were rough boys from a rough place. Their instincts warned them that hitting back was a requirement for survival. But they also had dreams of earning their way to a better life than the one full of violence that they’d known growing up in Emblem. They understood that revenge sometimes made things worse.

  Uncle Deck spoke up. “Nobody said anything about letting them get away unscathed. That son of a bitch, Paul Crestwood? Right now he’s breathing easy and thinking he has all the connections in the world.” He grinned and it was not an expression of good humor. “But guess what? I have more. And he’s about to find that out in a very painful way.”

  “Your parents need you right now,” Cord said. “Your brother needs you. Your girlfriend needs you.”

  “Trust me, Kel,” Deck said. “The punishment will fit the crime. And after this the Crestwood brothers will be afraid to remain in the same state as Taylor.”

  You’d have to be a fool to doubt Uncle Deck. I knew that. And if Paul Crestwood was indeed the kind of monster he seemed to be then I was in over my head before I started. Worse, Derek would insist on coming along for the ride and one brother in the hospital was more than enough.

  Uncle Creed was still watching me. “You’re not going to do anything stupid, are you, Junior?”

  Junior. That was his nickname for my father. It was a lifelong joke between them. Creed, Cord and my father were triplets, which of course meant they had the same birthday. But because they mocked and teased each other the way brothers are prone to do and because my father’s boyhood personality was that of an irrepressible prankster, Creed and Cord would jokingly call him Junior. Their ‘little brother’.

  “I won’t do anything stupid,” I promised.

  “Either of you,” Cord said, looking at Derek as well.

  Derek, the strongest ally any guy could ask for, squeezed my shoulder. “Don’t worry about us,” he assured my uncles. “We’re smarter than we look.”

  We all returned to the lobby and found that my father had just returned to share an update. Thanks to the painkillers, Thomas was now resting comfortably. My mother insisted on remaining at his side. The first of his surgeries would happen tomorrow morning. Other than the obvious, he was doing well and the doctors my dad spoke to were optimistic about his recovery chances.

  Of course, recovering enough to lead a normal life was one thing. Recovering enough to perform extraordinary sporting feats was something else. It would be a while before it was clear how much Thomas’s baseball future had been impacted. In the meantime, phones were ringing and relatives were arriving to offer their support. In the midst of all that activity it took a little while for me to notice something.

  “Where’s Taylor?” I asked Paige.

  She looked up from her conversation with Samantha. “She didn’t want to stay, Kel. I tried to talk her into staying but she said she felt sick and wanted to go home.”

  “And we both tried to go with her,” Sam added. “But she insisted she just wanted to be alone.”

  Damn it.

  I shouldn’t have left her. I should have wrapped my arm around her and kept her with me every moment. I knew she was feeling a horrific, misplaced sense of guilt over what happened to Thomas. Would she really have returned to the apartment, the scene of the crime, on her own right now?

  I doubted it. I doubted it more with every passing second.

  Leaving my friends behind, I heard Derek ask his girlfriend what was going on and sought the far side of the room where people weren’t listening to my every word. I sat down in the chair Taylor had last occupied and called her.

  Once. Twice. A third time.

  No answer.

  I texted.

  Where are you?

  And then, finally, she answered.

  I’m sorry, Kel. Tell Thomas I’m sorry. I need to set things straight.

  I called her again. I fired one text after another. But Taylor didn’t want to have a discussion. She didn’t want me to talk her out of her next move, whatever it was. She wasn’t going to give me any hint about where she might be headed.

  The memory of a recent conversation came back to me. Had it really only happened this morning? Taylor had watched me install an app on her phone so that she’d be able to track my whereabouts.

  And, even more critically, I now had the ability to track hers.

  Unless she’d remembered its existence and deleted it. If that were the case then I’d have no idea where to find her.

  A few seconds lasted an agonizing eternity as I checked th
e app. And then the bubble that represented Taylor’s location appeared. With all of today’s trauma, she must have forgotten all about the app.

  I watched as she traveled in a direction that was the opposite of the one that would lead to our apartment. She was getting on the freeway, traveling north.

  “What’s happening?” Derek had left Paige’s side and was now staring at me from two feet away with a very suspicious expression.

  I willed my features to smooth out and appear unconcerned before I responded. “Nothing. Taylor didn’t feel well. Understandable, considering what she’s been through today.”

  Derek was still skeptical. “Paige said Taylor went back to your apartment. Doesn’t make much sense that she’d want to be on her own right now.”

  I shrugged. “It’s true. I just talked to her.”

  I felt like shit for lying to my brother but there was a chance he’d try to persuade me not to go chasing Taylor. He also might tell our uncles, who’d then put me in a headlock before they let me out of their sight. Or, and this was the most likely outcome, he’d insist on coming along and that simply couldn’t happen.

  “Where are you going?” he asked a moment later when I stood up.

  “To the shitter.” I jerked my head in the direction of the restrooms down the hall. “Do you need to come watch?”

  He snorted. “I’ll pass.”

  There was no way to walk through the lobby doors without half the Gentry tribe seeing. I’d have to find another way to get outside.

  I looked over my shoulder to make sure Derek wasn’t trailing me. He’d returned to Paige and gathered her close. Good. That was where he needed to stay.

  However, just as I passed the door to the men’s room, Damian came walking out.

  “You looking for the vending machines?” he asked. “I saw some just around the corner.”

  “I’m not looking for the vending machines.” I paused and hoped he’d forgive me for making him an accessory to deception. “Listen, Taylor went back to the apartment and I need to go check on her. Everyone’s a little on edge right now and I don’t want to hear any arguments. You think you can wait fifteen minutes or so and then spread the word about where I’ve gone?”

  He wasn’t sure. “You think that’s a good idea?”

  “Yeah, I need to go.” I looked him in the eye. “Wouldn’t you do the same for Sam?”

  That was a language he understood. “Yeah. Go ahead. I’ll play along.”

  This guy was all right. “Thanks, man.”

  He nodded. “There’s an exit by those vending machines I mentioned. Since you don’t want anyone to see you leaving.”

  “I’ll be back soon,” I said, although I had no business promising that when I didn’t even know where I was going.

  When I made it to the dark parking lot after escaping detection from any concerned family members I felt like a criminal. Perhaps by the end of the night I really would be a criminal.

  It was one thing to opt out of seeking revenge when it wouldn’t do Thomas any good now anyway. But I could never be talked out of saving the girl I loved.

  I hoped Uncle Deck, with all his mystery connections and formidable reputation, was still the kind of man who might keep a gun handy. I wasn’t gifted at mechanics like Derek but I did know how to get into a locked car. I felt guilty about plundering Uncle Deck’s pickup truck while he was in the hospital comforting my distraught parents. Then I felt extra guilty over the knowledge that those same distraught parents would be significantly more distraught if they were aware of my plans. Uncle Deck didn’t disappoint. Right there in the locked glove compartment was a loaded handgun. The gun felt heavy and oily in my hand.

  I untucked my shirt and stored the gun in the waistband of my jeans. When I reached my own car I checked Taylor’s progress on the app once more. She was on the 101 now, heading toward Scottsdale. She was going home. She must have a reason.

  And whether she liked it or not, I planned to follow.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Taylor

  The Gentry men, including Kellan, were having an intense discussion about thirty feet away when I exited the hospital. It was a lucky break that they were too involved in their conversation to notice me.

  Paige and Sam had tried to tag along. I had to beg them not to. I said I just wanted to be alone. I didn’t feel well.

  They looked at each other and finally relented with reluctance.

  I half expected Kellan to look over and notice me creeping across the parking lot but he was occupied with his uncles. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about, however a sense of remorse washed over me. The entire Gentry family was distressed tonight because they worried for Thomas.

  I should have never allowed this to happen. I should have taken the threats from Petri Dish and Sierra more seriously, perhaps filed a police report. I should have done something, somehow, to prevent today’s conclusion.

  I hadn’t traveled more than a few miles before Kellan called. He was bound to see through the excuse that I needed some alone time. And he’d freak if he knew where I was really going. I wanted so badly to hear his voice and to take comfort in the warm circle of his arms but that was out of the question right now. The only thing worse than living with what happened to Thomas today was understanding that Kellan might be next.

  He called again. His ring tone was the theme of Jaws, the movie he’d been watching the first time he showed up unexpectedly at Closet Exchange. I could remember looking at him propped up against the wall, staring intently into his phone like he’d never watched anything more interesting, and thinking that I was already beginning to like him more than I wanted to like him. I would soon learn that falling in love with Kellan Gentry was inevitable.

  Ignoring his call was almost physically painful. He’d be worried, frantic, none of which he deserved.

  Kellan, forgive me.

  The text alert pinged a moment later. One handing the wheel, I took a look at my phone.

  Where are you?

  I owed him some kind of answer, even if it was an incomplete one.

  I’m sorry, Kel. Tell Thomas I’m sorry. I need to set things straight.

  That would hardly satisfy him but I hoped to have better news soon. It was long past time to have it out with my brother and sister.

  Aiden’s house was in a subdivision near where we’d grown up. The neighborhood wasn’t quite as fancy as the decadent one where my parents had purchased a home twenty years ago.

  That was something I’d never understood about my father. By anyone’s standards he was successful on his own. He had no excuse for diving headfirst into a fraudulent business scheme that devastated our family. He also had no excuse for taking the coward’s way out after leaving me with a memory that I’d never be able to scrub from my mind.

  I was angry with him. God, I was so angry with him. Why had it taken me so long to admit that?

  And then there remained the possibility that his betrayal was even worse than I thought. Why did Aiden and Sierra cling to the belief that I was the curator of some massive hoard of stolen cash? Even the authorities stopped being suspicious after watching me for a while. Their obsession couldn’t all be chalked up to stupidity, desperation and sibling rivalry.

  My nerves decided to embark on a work out when I turned down Aiden’s street. My brother had been friendly with the Crestwood brothers for years. I was taking a gamble by going to him on my own. That was why I demanded to meet at his house, the place where his wife and children slept.

  And then there was Sierra. As toxic as my sister was, I had to hope she wasn’t bloodthirsty. Her husband had cringed when I said her name today. I chose to interpret that reaction as evidence that she was unaware of his field trip with his brother. I hoped I wasn’t wrong.

  I was greeted by my brother’s silhouette as he paced on the sidewalk in front of his house with his hands in his pockets. He looked up as the sputtering sound of my car’s engine drew near.

  I’
d barely turned the ignition off when he came around to open my door. The interior car light landed on his face. He was handsome, my brother. Six foot five and lean, with the same reddish brown hair that I battled in front of the mirror every morning. He smiled at me and offered his hand.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said. “It’s been too long.”

  I wanted to trust him. But I didn’t. He was smiling at me now only because I’d promised to solve his problems. He cared about the money, not about me.

  Aiden was surprised when I brushed his hand away and refused to be enclosed in a hug.

  “Is Sierra here?” I asked coolly. “That’s her car over there, isn’t it?”

  Aiden looked toward the house. The upstairs windows were lit. It wasn’t late. Ella and the girls were most likely awake. But he didn’t invite me inside.

  “She’s here,” he said. “She’s waiting in the pool house.”

  “And she’s alone? She didn’t bring Peter? You promise?”

  He cocked his head, wondering over my tone. “No, she didn’t bring Peter.”

  “All right.” I sighed. “Let’s get this over with. I’ll follow you to the pool house.”

  Aiden tried to make some small talk on the short walk through his backyard gate and past the pool toward the small outbuilding that he like to call the ‘pool house’ to make it sound fancy. I ignored his communication efforts and silently stepped through the door when he held it open.

  My sister was sprawled on a white chaise lounge with a glass of wine on the table beside her and an ice pack over her eyes.

  “Headache or hangover?” I asked with sarcasm and then intentionally switched on a table lamp that sat beside her wine glass. Sierra’s migraines were legendary and tended to coincide with her need to be the center of attention.

  My sister plucked at the corner of the ice pack with one of her pointy manicured nails and glared at me.

  “I’m going on forty eight hours of pure migraine misery.”

  I looked around, feeling nervous in spite of Aiden’s assurances. “Where’s your psycho other half?”