by Jackson Kane
“Jason was a good guy once. He really was. For over a year we were happy.” Molly tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Happy enough anyways.”
“What happened? Why did you leave him?”
“It was that fucking club.” Her expression went from sadness to anger. “When he joined the Black Chains I was supportive. I thought it would be good for him to belong to a brotherhood, even if they were bikers. I even let them tattoo their stupid logo on my back. So stupid…”
“We don’t have to talk about this if—” I hated putting her through old pain.
“No it’s fine. I—” Molly pushed her air out in one burst. “I need to talk to someone about this. I heard some of the other old ladies talking about what actually happened on the weekend long rides they went on. Finally I paid one of the younger girls to take pictures when I wasn’t around and it was all perfectly clear.”
“He was cheating on you?”
“That, and doing drugs. I think the worst part of it was all the lies. ‘My bike broke down; I need to spend the night.’ ‘Don’t wait up, Babe, I’ve gotta help with some club business.’ It just got real bad real quick.”
“Why not go to the police? Get a restraining order or have him arrested?”
“Who do you think is in the club with him?”
“Shit…”
“They’re not all bad guys,” Molly was quick to add. “Most of them are really decent in fact.”
“But a brotherhood’s still a brotherhood.” I ran my hands over my head, smoothing my hair back. I’d gotten my answer. I was going to have to deal with Cannonball. “Hey,” I said, lightening the mood. “Dad’s having Richard and me over for dinner this Saturday. Having you there would definitely keep me sane.”
“I don’t know.” Molly peeled her bottom lip back, exposing some teeth. She looked a little apprehensive. “It’s been a long time. I can’t even remember the last time I was there.”
“I remember. You let me get to second base,” I said mischievously. Molly smiled, and shoved me. “But seriously, I know he’d love to see you.”
“I’ll think about it.” Molly crawled toward me and I grabbed her.
I wanted to hold onto her and this moment for as long as possible, because if I knew one thing about the King family it was that that dinner was going to be a fucking nightmare.
Chapter 17
Richard
“Go ahead,” I said carefully, driving up my father’s long drive way. My cell was hooked up to the cars speakers with Bluetooth. Madison sat silently next to me.
“It’s me,” Lucas said. “I want to call a truce for the night.”
“A truce?” Hearing his voice put me a little on edge. Lucas was more vindictive than I was; there was no way he was going to let me get away with canceling his show. These past two weeks I’d kept my guard up and waited for a blow that never came.
I had no intention of sinking to his level, especially at our father’s estate while he was sick. The skeptical side of me asked wondered if he’d even keep any bargain we made.
“You play nice. I play nice. We smile, humor the old man and part ways.” The audio was crisp enough to pick up notes of fatigue in his voice.
Was he as exhausted with this war as I was?
I’d never play my hand and ask him directly of course. The fight went out of me when I saw Gloria hurt. My mind lingered on that girl far more than it should have. I was excellent at putting my feelings in little boxes and discarding them. That was the essence of good business.
So why couldn’t I do that with her?
I glanced at Madison when we stopped near the valet. She was intently touching up her makeup in a small mirror she carried with her. She appeared not to be listening to our call, but I knew better.
She’s a politician’s daughter with aspirations of following in her father’s footsteps, I reminded myself. Some battles were fought in the boardroom, while others were fought casually everywhere else.
Necessary evils. Madison felt like the wrong train headed in the right direction.
I took my phone out of a nook in the dashboard and hesitated. Was it me? Was I being paranoid?
Madison was going to be the mother of my child I needed to start trusting her. I took the phone off speakerphone. The fact that I couldn’t trust her, made me worried about the man I was becoming.
Was I always on my guard around Gloria?
“Play nice, how?” I asked.
“Y’know when we were young and we used to pretend to be brothers?” Lucas said. I felt a stab of pain deep inside somewhere. For many years he was my best friend. We used to be extremely close. It truly was a shame it had come to this.
How did we drift so far apart?
“No fucking the other over,” Lucas continued. There was no sharpness to his voice. This wasn’t a threat of mutually assured destruction. It almost sounded like he was asking me, without asking me. “And no discussing the inheritance.”
“That’s fair,” I sighed, suddenly feeling tired myself. “For Dad’s sake…”
There was a long empty space at the end of the phone call where a thank you or a goodbye would’ve gone. Neither of us said anything, but it felt important that that space was even there.
My door was opened for me by the valet and I in turn opened the door for Madison, then helped her out of the car.
She wore a pale, blush, backless gown with jewel embellishments that accentuated her curves and even made them glow in certain light. Her golden hair was done up in a neat French twist, interwoven with white beaded accents. Her short train lightly swept the pavement, but was kept hovering about an inch from the ground by her tall stiletto heels when she stood up.
Madison simply looked incredible.
“Ready, Darling?” She asked, confidently.
“Not even a little,” I smiled, taking her arm, then led her inside.
The house was fully staffed tonight and it had a warmth I hadn’t seen the last few times I visited. I’d have liked to see him every day but Dad abhorred appearing weak. Despite his sudden worldview change, some old habits died hard.
A butler took our coats and led us to the sitting room, the fireplace was lit and classical music played softly in the background.
“It’s good to be home, isn’t it?” Madison asked, noticing my smile.
It was, but that wasn’t why I was smiling. I thought of Gloria on my arm and her changing the classical music to the thrashy, punk rock New York Dolls. She’d turn to me and say, “There, isn’t that way better?”
“Richard, my boy!” Dad said, from behind me. When I turned around my heart sank. He rolled forward in an electric wheelchair. There was an IV stand integrated into it, so as to be as minimally intrusive as possible. Dad wore a fine tux, but his lap and legs were covered by a blanket.
He looked scarily thin…
There was a lot of effort put into tonight’s dinner to make things appear as normal as possible. Knowing how much effort was needed to keep up that illusion broke my heart.
“Hey there, young man.” I smiled weakly, trying to keep the worry and fear from my voice. I reached down and hugged him. “It’s good to see you, Dad.”
I introduced Madison.
“Pleasure, Miss.” He shook Madison’s hand, then pointed to the hospital band on his wrist. “Please don’t mind the bracelet. It’s so the doctors remember my blood type.”
My eyes narrowed skeptically.
“What blood type are you?” Madison asked.
“Red,” he said with a wink, then let go of her hand. Madison laughed as if the joke was genuinely amusing.
I knew it. I groaned, but seeing him maintain his corny sense of humor lifted the sense of dread I felt inside. Maybe it only looked worse than it was. It was a lie, I knew, but at least it was a comforting one.
Shortly thereafter Lucas showed up with Molly and greeted my father.
Molly’s dress was a modest, green, strapless gown. Her dark hair hung in layered w
aves about her shoulders. She looked as pretty as when those two had dated in high school, except now she was all grown up. The only thing that looked out of place was a charm bracelet she wore on her wrist.
“Molly, you look radiant,” I said, kissing her on the cheek. While Molly’s back was turned Madison looked the girl over with the critical stare of a hated rival, then like a light switch, turned on her practiced smile when I introduced her.
There was no jealousy in Madison’s initial expression. She wasn’t the kind of girl that cared about that sort of thing. She’d even written an allowance for extramarital lovers into the proposal.
No, Molly was simply some debris on Madison’s road to victory, which needed to be quietly and efficiently removed.
I’d have to watch that. The last thing I wanted was for a girl like Molly to be hurt in any way.
“Richard.” Lucas extended a stiff hand. Lucas had his dirty blond hair pulled back and his light beard neatly kempt. He wore most of an off-the-rack suit, missing only the tie. Despite the top button of his shirt being undone he’d cleaned up well.
“Hello, Lucas,” We shook hands briskly, yet firmly. It wasn’t until I saw Lucas and Molly together that I realized he might actually win this competition. I chided myself for still thinking of Gloria. That raven-haired beauty had burrowed into my heart and weakened my resolve. I needed to get her out of my head if I had any chance of coming out on top.
The battlefield may have changed, but this was still war.
Not tonight, I reminded myself of the call we had earlier. There’d be no bloodshed tonight.
The next hour Lucas and I mostly avoided one another. We alternated between talking with Dad—who downplayed the severity of his health—and talking with the nurse, who tried her best to soften the blow of the harsh reality. The cancer was spreading as fast as they could kill it.
Dad coughed a sharp raspy sound that dragged on far longer than anyone in the room was comfortable with.
At best, Dad had a few months left to live.
It didn’t matter who won. He’d never live long enough to see a grandchild.
I glanced over at Lucas while he talked with the nurse. I watched him go through all the same emotions when he heard the news. Finally, he looked back at me, his eyes glossy and full of pain. We shared the same useless anger and sense of overwhelming futility.
What the fuck was the point?
When approached privately, Dad had outright refused to answer questions about the inheritance competition. “It’s how it needs to be,” was all he’d say, before changing the subject.
It would’ve been one thing if he hated us and wanted us to suffer, but that was never the case. We might not have been as tightly knit as families you’d see on TV, but there was no denying that Lucas and I were loved. Why else would Dad have adopted Lucas? He tried so hard to bring us together after Mom died, but by then the damage between Lucas and I was done.
Why spend the twilight of his life undoing everything? Why rip the family even further apart with this damn competition?
Despite Dad’s bad jokes it was apparent that the exertion of appearing as if nothing was wrong was taking its toll on the old man. He began slouching in his chair and had trouble following conversations. If he was a phone’s battery he’d be flashing red.
The evening looked to be at its bleakest. I didn’t know if he was going to make it to dinner. Then, out of nowhere, a series of smooth notes were played on the grand piano in the next room over.
There was no denying Molly was a little out of practice, at least at first. Or it might’ve been the piano that was rusty; it hadn’t felt the warm touch of skilled fingers since Mom died. That didn’t matter to Dad, his weathered old face brightened right up at the sound. The classical music was turned off to make way for the Chopin and Bach that Molly played. And like a great migration, we all made our way over to watch.
Lucas leaned on the piano, propping himself up on his elbows and watched her play. It was the same thing he used to do whenever Mom asked her to play.
“Maggie…” Dad said, wheeling himself next to me. He patted me gently on my lower back, the music made him look ten years younger than a few minutes ago. His eyes were floating, every key stroke brought him a little closer to openly weeping. “She sounds just like your mother, doesn’t she?”
“Yeah, Dad.” I placed a hand on his shoulder.
In that moment I desperately wanted to tell him; “Everything’s going to be alright, don’t worry.”
But I stayed silent. I was too afraid to hear the words out loud, knowing them to be just another happy lie…
Dad had dried the tears that ran down his cheeks as Molly wrapped up the last of the half a dozen songs she could still remember. The chef entered, whispered something to Dad, then disappeared from the room.
“Beautiful! Thank you, my dear.” Dad hugged Molly, whose light blush reddened her olive cheeks. “Maggie would’ve been so proud of you.”
Molly smiled, fighting back tears of her own, and hugged him again.
“Now,” he declared, charged back up by the music. “I don’t know about any of you, but that long drive down memory lane dropped me off in Hungary.” Lucas and I both groaned at the bad joke in perfect unison. “Dinner is served!”
Chapter 18
Lucas
I shoved my mostly empty plate away, feeling ready to explode. Five helpings was one too many.
Molly shot me an I-told-you-so look. She asked me if I was trying to set a world record around the forth heaping plate. I didn’t want to tell her I was casually trying to beat Richard…but that was only because he was casually trying to beat me.
“You can look at me any way you want.” I raised both my arms and flexed. “Muscles like these don’t grow on trees.” Then I leaned in and proudly whispered, “After the workout we had earlier today I needed my protein.”
I wasn’t sure who won the informal eating contest, but either way it was good to just be silly again. If it wasn’t for Richard’s date—the woman who looked like someone’s press secretary—it would’ve felt like a real family dinner.
Dinner was a holy time in our house while Mom was alive. Mom and Dad used to cook dinner and we were forced to clean the dishes. They said it built character to clean up after ourselves. I thought it was bullshit.
What’s the point of making all that money if you can’t pay people to do stuff for you?
They were right of course. Looking back it always seemed like they were right, we were just too young and spoiled to see that at the time.
Like the good little boys we were, Richard and I started clearing the plates. It was only when I grabbed Dad’s that I saw how little he’d actually eaten. He’d apparently only been moving the food around as we all made strained, but pleasant-enough conversation.
“I had a big lunch,” Dad said, reassuringly. He saw that the lie didn’t ease the worried look on my face because he patted my arm and changed the subject. “Just load them into the dishwasher. I think you boys have mastered the fine art of washing dishes by now.”
“I think I might need a refresher,” I gave him a half smile. “If it’s worth doing once…”
“It’s worth doing a thousand times,” Richard said, breezing past us with full arms.
Dad just laughed, having been beaten to finish his favorite phase. Dad began softly interrogating Molly and Madison, asking them about their lives and how they met us. Richard and I escaped to the kitchen to wash dishes and wrap and put away leftovers.
“You know I won, right?” Richard said with an easy grin. His jacket was off and sleeves were rolled up as he pulled plastic wrap over a casserole dish.
I froze; warm tap water steadily ran over my hands and the cup I was washing. What did he mean “won?” Won won? Is the plastic anchorwoman in there actually pregnant?
Then it dawned on me that I never even told Molly about the clause in the inheritance. I wasn’t intentionally keeping that from her. We just got
back together; I wanted to make sure we were good first before I dropped something that heavy on her.
“Hi Molly, I haven’t seen you in a decade.” “I’ve never stopped loving you.” “I need to get you pregnant ASAP.” In no universe do those three fucking sentences make it into the same paragraph.
Hell, I couldn’t even imagine them in the same book.
“I ate six,” Richard said, brimming with smugness.
I exhaled hard and steadied myself. Thank, Christ! He wasn’t talking about the inheritance.
“Bullshit, you did. A lone buttered roll doth not a plate maketh,” I did my best Shakespeare impression. “My last plate piled high with salad.”
“Salad? No.” He scoffed. “There weren’t any tomatoes, onions, carrots… Did you even have dressing?” He paused, trying to remember. “No jury in the country would call that a salad. Besides you didn’t even finish it.”
We continued to argue the legality of produce for a lot longer than should’ve been possible. Eventually, without any clear winner, the argument fizzled away like it always used to. There wasn’t any mention of the elephant in the room that caused the massive rift between us. We kept everything surprisingly light.
Standing here with my brother like this after so long was surreal. Nothing was forgiven. The truce was only for the night, but I started wondering if we could just talk this whole thing out like sensible adults; like brothers.
“What happened to the black haired girl you left your party with?” I asked idly, drying my hands with a bright red hand towel.
“It didn’t work out.” He paused, then continued as if he was reassuring himself rather than explaining anything to me. “Madison is a better fit, we have similar goals.”
Why the fuck would you want a social chameleon like her? Surprisingly, I held my tongue. It wasn’t something I probably would’ve done yesterday. Nevertheless I didn’t like that woman and it wasn’t just because she was with Richard.