by Aiden Bates
His phone buzzed again. As soon as he got into the break room, he checked it. He’d been hoping it was Ryan, but instead it was Jamie. Hey, where are you?
I’m in the break room getting my stuff. They’re sending me home early. Why?
Sweet! I was just coming by to tell you Liam and I were going to the Black Bear Casino just around the way. I figured you might want to join us later, but we can give you a ride if you want to come with.
Anthony considered. He usually did okay at the casinos, especially if he let his youthful looks do the talking. He didn’t like to make a habit of it, but he’d happily make up his lost wages if he could. Sure, I’m in.
The fact that he could probably pump Jamie for information about Ryan was only a coincidence, of course. He would tell himself that until he believed it.
He had much more of a spring in his step when he headed outside the shop to wait for Jamie than he’d had when he’d gone into the break room. Jamie didn’t take long to find him, and they made it to the Black Bear Casino in about an hour.
The casino was off the beaten track by a little bit, but that didn’t matter to its loyal patrons. Anthony couldn’t get away from mentions of the place, whether in advertising or just from word of mouth.
His mom had interviewed here, but she hadn’t taken the job. They hadn’t paid enough, and now that Anthony looked around, he could see that was likely an issue in general.
All of the workers had a pinched look to them. The booze flowed freely, but a lot of the tables had a shabby look to them, and the carpet looked worn and old.
Liam, who ran the entertainment division of Roscoe Industries, narrowed his eyes at the sight. He wouldn’t be here on a pleasure junket. “Not a good sign,” he muttered.
Jamie shrugged. “I don’t know. They could sell off the decor, maybe pay for a carpet cleaning machine.”
Anthony snickered. Liam was obviously considering an acquisition. It had nothing to do with him, so he pulled out his phone to check it, but he had to throw in his own two cents.
“You know, I’ve never heard a bad word about this place. My guess would be that it’s just bad financial management. The place is crowded, even on a Tuesday night, right?”
He smiled when he saw a new message from Ryan. I guess I’ll just have to tire you out so much you stick around a little later.
Anthony blushed as the two Roscoe brothers beside him debated the wisdom of further investigating the Black Bear. I’m more than happy to let you try.
He took in the room again, bought some chips, and went to go try his luck at poker. Maybe he’d get lucky. After all, if Ryan was hinting about a next time, anything could happen.
Anthony wasn’t a big gambler. He spent a couple of hours moving among the card tables, winning more games than he lost, and he stopped betting after winning a month’s pay.
He knew enough to quit when he was ahead. He’d learned by watching tables when he was a kid, waiting for his mom to get off work. By that point, Jamie and Liam had finished talking shop and were ready to hit the bar and grab a couple of drinks.
Jamie had won a decent amount at roulette. He had bigger stakes to put up, of course, so he won bigger and was more than happy to treat all three of them. “So what do you think?” he asked Anthony. “Liam and I already know what each other think about the place, and its possibilities. What are your thoughts?”
Anthony ducked his head and blushed. It didn’t matter what he thought about Black Bear Casino. It wasn’t his money. It wasn’t for him to say at all.
Besides, he wasn’t the executive type. Still, Jamie had asked for his opinion. He should get it.
“The employees wouldn’t still be here if they didn’t like it,” he said after a second. “They’re worried. You can see it in their faces, and I overheard a few of them talking about the money problems the owners are having.”
He sipped his drink. “But they’re sticking it out, not so much because they love the owners, but because they like the atmosphere and each other.”
Liam stroked his chin. “That’s a rare gift to have — trained employees who are loyal to each other, and to the venue.”
Anthony nodded. “They’ve probably got a few workers who don’t care at all. I wouldn’t blame them, you know? But they’ve got a solid core of people who all live nearby, and they kind of seem to see each other like family.”
“That fits right in with our business, true enough.” Jamie rubbed his hands together as the giant platter of appetizers he’d ordered appeared in front of them. “Food’s good, too. It’s worth seeing if we can snap it up. The owners might welcome the chance to get out, if they’re having trouble.”
“I want to take a look at the books first.” Liam looked down at his drink. “But yeah. It could be worthwhile.”
Anthony checked his messages again. There is no try, only do.
He had never been so glad for the ice in a gin and tonic. He grabbed for his drink and took a long gulp of it, hoping it would cool him down. Are you free to do something this weekend?
He stared at his phone while Liam and Jamie babbled about the family business for a little while, but Ryan didn’t reply.
Anthony perked up when he heard Liam mention Ryan. “We might be able to get Ryan to run the place. He’s got a good head for management, and it’s an hour away from Culvertown. He’d be out of the way here.”
Anthony kept his face neutral, but he had to bite his tongue to hold back the litany of questions that danced there. Why would anyone want to get Ryan “out of the way?” Why did everyone treat Ryan like a dirty secret?
Okay, he didn’t look or act like any of the other Roscoes, but he was still family. If they could support and be proud of Tommy Roscoe, the official town drunk, they could love and support their own brother, right?
Jamie scoffed. “Yeah, I told him to come take a job in the family business, but he was having none of it. It’s like the guy hates money.”
He shook his head. “I don’t understand it, but there’s a lot I don’t get about that guy. I love him, and I’m happy to see him and have him back in town, but I can’t say I ever understood him. There’s so much I know now that I wish I’d known back when I was a kid.”
Anthony didn’t bother to hide his surprise. He’d figured Ryan would already be working with the rest of the Roscoes. All the Roscoes worked in the family business. They didn’t get a choice about that — Lord knew Jamie had tried hard enough to get out. “What’s he do, if he doesn’t work for Roscoe Industries?”
Jamie took a gulp from his drink. “He’s decided to set up some kind of mechanic business. He’s rented a garage downtown, got a little apartment upstairs from it. Because sleeping in exhaust fumes will be awesome.”
“Huh.” Anthony toyed with his glass. “I wonder where he learned to be a mechanic. Or does he just plan to hire a bunch of guys and supervise?”
“No idea.” Liam put his glass down. He didn’t look directly at Anthony. “He’s an enigma.”
Anthony didn’t believe that for a second. Jamie apparently didn’t pick up on his brother’s tone, because he shook his head. “Ryan hasn’t changed that much. He’ll do the work himself until he makes the place a going concern.
“You know how he is, Liam.” He snorted. “It’s why he’d be perfect to manage a place like this, but no.”
“So where’s he been all this time, that he’s learned to be a mechanic?” Anthony smirked. “Is that why no one talks about him? Because he’s embarrassed everyone by getting into cars instead of mergers and acquisitions?”
It was kind of a sneaky way to learn more about Ryan, but if it got Anthony what he needed, he’d do it.
Liam scowled. “Remember how mad Mom got when he came home with his first tattoo?”
Anthony could remember every tattoo on Ryan’s body. The image that sprang to his mind got him instantly hard. He didn’t think pointing it out would be particularly helpful.
“It’s a good thing she never found
out about the nipple piercings.” Jamie made a face.
“Now there’s an image.” Liam shuddered. “I so didn’t need to know that.”
Anthony grabbed for his drink so he didn’t accidentally blurt out anything. “So where’s he been all these years?” he tried again, when the urge to comment on Ryan’s body passed. “I mean, you Roscoes tend to stick together, you know? You don’t tend to fall out of touch very often. I guess I’m just curious.” He toyed with a splinter on the edge of the bar.
Liam waved a hand. “He’s been off Ryaning. Doing Ryan things, in a Ryan place. Prizefighting, maybe. I don’t even know. And honestly, I kind of don’t want to know.”
“It might be considered conspiracy,” Jamie agreed, and laughed. His laughter had a bitter edge to it, like someone trying to make the best of a difficult situation. It was hard for Anthony to tell over the music, though.
Anthony smiled, so he didn’t give anything away, but inside he was screaming with frustration. Was it so hard, really, to admit they had a brother and cared about him? Jamie, at least, had seemed to care about his oldest brother. He’d even turned Anthony down for pizza and beer last night, in favor of helping Ryan move into his new place.
“So we’ve got a new guy starting for us,” Liam said, changing the subject. “He just moved out here from South Carolina. He’s about thirty, he’s an accountant, and he’s smoking hot. Want me to see if he wants to stop by the hotel bar on Friday night? Whichever one of you wants him can have him.”
Both Jamie and Anthony blushed. “I’m sure the poor guy doesn’t want to be set up with the boss’ kid brother,” Jamie told him, cheeks blazing above his beard. “Anthony can take his chances, though.”
Anthony didn’t want to take his chances with an accountant from South Carolina, although before his one night with Ryan he wouldn’t have turned down a chance to meet someone new. Culvertown didn’t get a lot of new blood, at least not that stuck around.
“We’ll see. I like meeting new people. It’s not like we see a whole lot of them around here.” He smiled at his friends. “Maybe that’s why I’d like to get to know Ryan better, you know?”
The brothers exchanged a long, inscrutable glance. “Listen, Anthony.” Liam cleared his throat. He was using his “authoritative older brother” voice, the same one he’d used while lecturing Anthony and Jamie about safe sex and underage drinking when they were younger.
“You’re a good guy. You’re a great guy. You’ve got a heart as big as the world, and that’s a nice trait to have. But I need you to listen to me here. I’ve known Ryan for a long time, okay? You need to step away and leave Ryan alone. He’s not worth the trouble. And believe me, there will be trouble.”
Anthony looked down at his glass and swirled the few remaining ice cubes around. “You make it sound like he’s some kind of monster.” The man Anthony had slept with, the man he’d connected with, was no monster. He might have a few demons chasing him, but he was a good, vulnerable man who deserved support.
“He’s … well, he’s not a monster.” Jamie put a hand on Anthony’s back. “But if there’s a bad life choice to be made, Ryan will make it. The guy doesn’t just bring trouble, he is trouble. Remember those commercials they used to run, for the insurance company? Where the guy was the living incarnation of mayhem?”
Anthony nodded. He thought he knew where Jamie was going with this.
“Well, that’s our brother.” Liam made a face. “Ryan’s the embodiment of trouble. And everywhere he goes, every life he touches, gets torn to shreds.
“He probably doesn’t mean to do it, but that doesn’t matter. You’re a good kid. You’ve got a decent future ahead of you. I don’t want to see it get destroyed because you got sucked into the black hole that is Ryan Roscoe.” He slurped down the rest of his drink.
Jamie signaled for another round. “I love my brother,” he told Anthony, with a sad smile on his face. “I truly do. I’d love to see him happy someday.
“But I’m not willing to sacrifice my best friend — another brother, really — to see that happen. Stay away from Ryan, Anthony. Go meet the accountant guy. I’m telling you, nothing is worth the shit show Ryan brings with him.”
Anthony smiled and nodded. It wasn’t for him to sit there and correct these guys about their own brother. Obviously something had happened, something major, to make them feel the way they did about Ryan.
He couldn’t help but feel, though, that they were missing some piece of the puzzle. It had been a long time since they’d seen Ryan. Something had changed.
The man he’d been with had been a good man who wanted to take care of Anthony, and who wouldn’t willingly hurt anyone. He hadn’t imagined the connection between them, either. He didn’t think Ryan had necessarily changed his plans and stayed in Culvertown because of him, but it had definitely played a part.
Why else had there been a round two? Why reach out on FriendBook? Why send that message about not having to leave so fast?
He respected Jamie and Liam. He respected their feelings about their family, too. He wouldn’t involve them in his attempt to build on the connection he’d made with their brother.
No one really wanted to think about family members in that way anyway, did they? It would be creepy, in Anthony’s opinion.
He sent a message to Ryan while the Roscoe brothers discussed a strategy for the next round of gambling. Listen, in all seriousness, I’d really like to see you again.
He spent the next couple hours going from table to table with Liam and Jamie. He jumped into a few games and won another month’s pay before once again cutting himself off. This time the brothers also called it quits, as they had to be up early in the morning.
He checked his messages when he got home. He wished he could say he was surprised not to see a reply from Ryan.
6
Ryan pulled his bike up to the open iron gates that marked the driveway to the old Roscoe family home. Simply calling it a home was stretching the truth, of course. Maybe it would be better to call it a palace, or a pile, or a lair, or a hub.
Whatever you might want to call it, this was Roscoe Central. It hadn’t changed, at least from the outside, in all the years since Ryan had been gone.
Today was Sunday, so the gates had been thrown wide open. Most of the time, visitors needed to be buzzed in. Ryan once had had a pass for the gate, but those days were long gone.
And good riddance, too. He tried to make himself feel the words, but they didn’t even sink as deep as the ink of his tattoos.
He shouldn’t have come, and he could still leave. The only person who wanted him here was Jamie, and even that was probably more a matter of obligation than actual desire.
The only two members of his family who’d tried to see him since he’d gotten back were Jamie and Tommy, and Tommy couldn’t stay sober enough to come back after Ryan sent him home that one time. It wasn’t like the rest of them didn’t know he was out. Walking into that house right now would be a provocation, and he knew it.
So why was he still sitting here, straddling his bike like it was Anthony Freaking King?
Stop thinking about him.
Christ, what the hell was wrong with him? Anthony was a million and three miles out of his league. Jamie had been right. Anthony didn’t deserve something like Ryan in his life. He wasn’t the pure and innocent little thing Jamie thought he was, but he was a shining light in an otherwise rotten and murky world. He deserved a guy who wasn’t afraid to walk into his own parents’ home.
Ryan rolled his shoulders. He’d learned early on there was no place for fear in his new life. The boy he’d been when he went in was a scared little punk who had no idea what he was in for. The man he’d become turned other people into scared little punks.
Was Ryan Roscoe going to sit here and cower from people who actually gave a crap about the proper fork to use for fish? No. They’d left him to die in there.
He was going to go in there and show them that all those hopes ha
d come to nothing. He’d survived, and they could die mad about it.
Revving his bike, he drove it up the long, winding driveway to his parents’ house.
He wasn’t the first to arrive, of course. He recognized some of the cars as belonging to cousins. He recognized Jamie’s Audi, too. What would the Roscoes do if someone had the temerity to purchase say, a Ford, and park it near one of their luxury cars?
He parked his Harley near the BMWs and Mercedes and took off his helmet. A small part of him wondered if he shouldn’t leave the helmet on, but he ignored it. He didn’t need armor to take whatever the Roscoes could dish out, damn it. He’d face them all down.
The door was open. It was always open for Sunday brunch. It was hard to have a mandatory event if you didn’t welcome the people who had to show up. Ryan pushed aside his misgivings (which definitely weren’t fears, no, not at all) and walked right into the house where he’d grown up.
For half a second, he wondered if he’d gone back in time. Everything was the same. The picture frames on the walls were the same. The couches were the same. Grandma Culver, who sat dozing on a recliner in the corner, wore the same shirt she’d been wearing the last time Ryan had seen her. A wave of nostalgia crashed over him, and for a moment he was a little boy again, starving for his mother’s love and attention.
Then the wave passed. He was a man, and he saw with a man’s eyes. His man eyes picked up on the way that the old wooden frame on the mantle that had once held his first grade school picture now contained a photo of John Wayne.
The big photo on the wall, the one that had been a portrait of the whole family all together, had been replaced by a newer family portrait — one without Ryan.
In short, anything with Ryan’s image on it, or his name, had been removed from view. He snorted and shook his head. Christ, no wonder Anthony had no idea I existed.
His family had actually erased him. It wasn’t enough to leave him for dead in Ely; they had to cover up the fact that he’d ever existed.
No one was in the front room except for Grandma Culver, so Ryan had privacy to get himself under control. He would focus on his anger. That would keep him going through the rest of this miserable brunch.