Slow Burn 2 (The Archer Brothers)

by Rose Harper

  They never ask about my well-being, if I’m eating, if I’m living alone. The only thing they care about is money and where I’m getting it. God, I wish my father would just come out of the closet with his side business already. Maybe then I wouldn’t have to lie to my entire family. I’ll be able to live my life, come and go as I please. I’ll be able to see and visit and have fun with my family.

  It’s been so long since I’ve had a family.

  So long since I’ve had someone to talk to that I know will get me.

  I miss the camaraderie a family brings me.

  The sound of a phone chiming brings me from my thoughts. Glancing around, I look to everyone to see that they’re staring right at me expectantly. The fuck are they staring at? I’ve given them all the information they want. What else could they possibly need?

  “Why are you all staring at me?” I fume.

  “Duh, dumbass, we’re staring because your phone is going off, yet you don’t seem to be hearing it.”

  Remind me again why I want to be around my family? Because right now, being two thousand miles away sounds pretty much like Heaven.

  Fumbling through my pocket, my eyebrows inch together in confusion when I spy the caller. After everything last night, she would be the last person I would expect to call me. I wonder what’s going on now.

  Sliding my finger across the screen, I bring it up to my ear, preparing myself for a fight. Only I don’t even get two syllables out before she’s yelling through the line.

  “You need to come back! You need to come back now! Drake’s gone! Oh my God! Brandy doesn’t know where he’s at. I’m freaking out right now! You need to get back to my house.”

  “Whoa, Sparrow. Calm down,” I muse, hoping she’ll calm long enough to explain it all to me.

  Getting up from my seat at the table, I take off with everyone close on my tail. They’re peppering questions left and right, but the only thing I care about is the fact something is wrong with Drake, and Sparrow called me, of all people, to come fix it. She called me.

  “Okay, start slow and clarify again, please.”

  Jumping into my car, my keys are in the ignition before the door closes. I glance up just before hitting the street, seeing my family all standing, scattered around the outside of the front door and lawn, looking at me like I’m crazy. They can look at me like I’m crazy all they want to. My mind is focused on one thing and one thing only, and that’s getting to Sparrow’s house.

  “Declan, Drake is gone. Brandy left me text messages and tried to call me, like, a million times last night. Drake … he’s just gone. She doesn’t know where he’s at and the police aren’t being a bit of help.” The sound of her sob hitting my ears causes a knot to form in my throat. I’ve never heard Sparrow lose control so easily.

  “Little bird, listen to me. Don’t worry, we’ll find him. I promise, even if it is the last thing I do, I will bring our boy home.”

  “Don’t let me down, Declan. I’m trusting you, which is something I swore I’d never do. Do. Not. Fuck. This. Up.”

  Screeching around the corner, my car drifts into the other lane. People beep their annoyance, cars swerve to miss me, but my mind is focused solely on one thing—getting to Sparrow. Trees whip by my car as nothing more than a blur, as the wind sings across the contours of the body of metal.

  My heart feels like its beating a million times a minute. Sweat begins to pepper along the surface of my skin. Blood rushes through my veins, causing an orchestra to sound off inside my head. Until this moment, I never knew just one person could mean so much. I never knew the thought of losing them before I’ve ever met them could turn my world upside down. But it has.

  Tumultuous emotions swirl inside me. Fear claws at my gut by not knowing what could have happened to Drake.

  “Have I ever given you a reason to doubt me? I may have fucked up when it came to you, but I refuse to fuck up when it comes to my son. He’s my goddamn blood, Sparrow. He and I will have a connection that you and I will never have. So, yes, when I say I’m going to take care of it, by God, that’s what it means.”

  Disconnecting the call, I peel into the driveway, going far too fast for comfort. Without turning off the car, I place it in park and I’m out within seconds. Jogging around the front, I sprint toward the front door of the Jameson mansion, thrusting the door open. The knot in my throat grows to almost unbearable proportions when I spy Sparrow in the sitting room, sobbing uncontrollably.

  After everything she’s done to me, I shouldn’t be moved by what I see, but I can’t stop the flutter in my heart as I watch her fall apart on the sofa. Without saying a word, I walk over to the couch and pull her into my arms. My left hand tunnels into her hair as my other slowly rubs circles on her back. I whisper in her ear, soothing words to get her to calm.

  Yet, nothing seems to be helping, nor should it. She’s lost her baby. The one she’s been with, for the most part, since birth. She has a right to be upset, but I wish she would calm down marginally, so she can explain to me everything Brandy told her. Maybe then I would be able to figure out this mess.

  “Little bird, start at the beginning, please?”

  “She … She told me he was gone. She didn’t give me anything else other than that. Just that he deleted her cell phone records and she had the cops come to our house to file a report.”

  “He deleted her cell phone records?” I ask, pulling away from her.

  Looking up at me, she gives me a worried smile as fresh tears blanket her eyes. “He gets the sneakiness and smarts from his father.” A mournful expression twists her features as her mouth turns down into a frown, the action causing worry lines to appear between her eyebrows. “I knew I shouldn’t have waited this long to tell people about him.”

  “We’ll get to that at another time. We just have to focus right now, because our son is out there somewhere alone.” Just the thought of him being by himself causes my stomach to lurch with nausea. He’s only nine years old! Anything can happen between now and when we find him. I refuse it to be any other way. I will keep my promise to Sparrow. I will bring our boy home.

  “What are we going to do?”

  I barely catch myself from voicing the thoughts running through my mind. Anything could be happening right now, and there’s nothing we can do about it. Drake could be hurt. Hungry. With it being this long since he’s been gone, he could be …

  Shaking my head, I close my eyes to get my thoughts in check. There’s no way I will revert to that line of thinking. When we find Drake, he will be just fine. He’s smart like his mother, and hopefully, fearless like me. If anything, he knows to run the opposite way when trouble is brewing.

  “He’s a smart boy. I don’t have to know him to know that. He has you. Brandy—whoever the hell that is. And he’s smart, calculated—he won’t get into trouble.”

  “How can you be so sure?” she asks, worrying her bottom lip.

  “Because we’re his parents. That’s how I know.”

  I finally take the chance to glance around the room, seeing Jacob, Caleb, and Derrick all sitting around staring at me silently. My display of affection with Sparrow may seem a little uncouth, but they need to get over that. Sparrow is the mother of my son. It doesn’t matter if we’re pissed off at one another. If she needs my emotional support, I’ll fucking give it to her.

  “What?” I muse, widening my eyes.

  “That was beautiful,” Jacob gasps, covering his heart with his hand.

  I swear, even in a time like this, her siblings can’t be serious.

  “Seriously?!” I thunder, letting Sparrow go as I stalk closer to the eldest of the twins. “You’re going to joke at a time like this! Your goddamn nephew could be hurt for all we know, and you’re going to sit here and play class fucking clown! Learn what your priorities are before I beat them into you!”

  The sound of car doors slamming echo through the foyer, bringing me from the edge of murder. Just one more second of either of them making jokes a
nd tossing funnies around, and I would have fucking ended them. This is not the time to joke or play around. It’s a time for action.

  “Is Darcy supposed to come by?” I ask Derrick, to which he shakes his head no.

  If it’s not her, then who the fuck would be coming here? No one is due here until tomorrow, that being the vendors to make sure everything is set for the wedding. Derrick and Darcy tried to take care of that today, but nothing was solved, or so that’s what I’ve gathered from the various texts Derrick sent me. Fucking vendors can’t do anything right nowadays.

  After them, it would be their parents, but they’re not due here until early Saturday morning—it’s only mid-day Thursday.

  “Well, who the fuck is here?”

  “That would be us.” A voice, filled to the brim with barely restrained anger, booms from the open door as he drops a small piece of luggage on the floor by his side. “And, for our early visit, I figured we would bring a little present.”

  At the sound of her father’s voice, all of our actions cease to exist. Derek looks frozen in terror. Jacob and Caleb look as if they’re going to be sick. And Sparrow seems as if her entire world is going to crumble at any second. Turning around, I face the brunt of her father’s anger as he glares at me from across the room. His eyes narrowed into tiny slits, and a sneer tugs at his lips. I’ve never seen her father this angry before, and now, I’m kind of glad I haven’t. He’s fucking terrifying.

  But that’s not what holds my attention. My attention is solely focused on the tiny boy who comes out from around his back. He’s smiling broadly as he stares up at me, looking too much like me to be a coincidence. His eyes are the same color as mine. His complexion, hair, and stature match mine.

  “Oh, Drake!” Sparrow screams, rushing toward him.

  I try to move. Try to do anything other than lock eyes with the boy I have no doubt is my son; a son I inadvertently thought I lost before I ever got the chance to know.

  Hot wetness coats my cheek as I continue to stare at the most perfect little boy in front of me, trying to fight off his mother to get a good gander. There’s a familiarity in his eyes. It’s as if he knows everything about me, even though I know nothing of him.

  When Sparrow steps away from him, the full effect he has on me brings me to my knees. He’s so fucking beautiful. Everything I’ve ever dreamed of.

  I silently watch him as he comes closer to me, no hesitation in his steps. When he stops in front of me, my eyes wander the entirety of his face, cataloging it to memory.

  “Hi, Daddy,” he whispers.

  His words cause my chin to quiver as more tears bead in my eyes. My heart fills to the point of bursting as my lungs begin to burn from the pain of denying them air. I’m his dad. Dear God, he’s everything I didn’t know I wanted. Reaching forward, I pull him into my arms. My nose goes into his neck, inhaling his clean childlike scent as I cling to his small frame.

  “Hi,” I whisper through my tears.

  Chapter Eight

  Sparrow

  I’d never been so scared in my entire life than when Brandy told me Drake was missing. Not the prospect of bearing, delivering, and raising him alone—nor keeping him a secret from my family terrified me more. Nothing.

  It felt like my entire world was imploding around me. The only thing that kept me from plunging into the deep end feet first, dare I say it, was Declan and his levelheadedness. Though, I’ll never tell him that. His head is big enough already.

  Steadying myself, I take the crystal stopper out of the decanter of my father’s prized scotch. After that scare, I’m due for a stiff drink. It’s not something I make a habit of with Drake in the same house, but I feel in a time like this, it’s needed.

  Especially since my mother and father have been blasting off questions right and left about why I would do such a thing as keep that precious boy away from them.

  Still, it’s not like I did it to punish them. I did it to keep Drake safe. My actions will always reflect protecting my son, whether it pisses people off or not. And to be honest, I was doing a good job, or so, that’s what I thought. Now, I’m not so sure. Funny how the tables turn when the circumstances change, isn’t it?

  Pouring two thumbs into the tumbler, I set the decanter back in its place on the bar, recapping it. I slowly sip the toxic fluid as my thoughts continue to swirl. Everything is such a scrambled mess inside my head, so it’s hard for anything to come to fruition. At this point, I don’t know which way is down and which is up.

  “Sparrow, I’m so disappointed in you,” my mother voices, her tone less than pleased.

  Cinching my eyes tightly, I continue to turn up the tumbler until there’s no more liquid left in my glass. The sweet burn ignites inside my throat, before soon, traveling down to my stomach, causing it to warm with its deadly heat. I know if I don’t slow down, I’ll be plastered and no good when it comes to this discussion. But I can’t stop. I need these motherfucking thoughts to go away; need them to retreat to the innermost depths of the abyss swirling around inside me. They will eat me alive if I don’t.

  “Mom, can we not do this right now?” I ask, snapping down the glass on top of the bar. “I’ve heard about all I can take. I did what I did for a reason, and if you can’t respect that, then there’s no use in Drake or me staying here any longer. There’s no use in us being here, period.”

  I refuse to explain myself to them over and over. That’s like beating a dead horse and expecting it to get up and trot your ass around the corral. You know it’s not going to happen, but you can’t stop yourself from pestering the subject until it’s beat down into the ground so far you can no longer see it.

  That’s what this conversation is the equivalent of, and I’m so fucking over this shit. First, it’s Declan, then it’s my brothers. Now, my fucking parents? Does anyone in this house not know when to just back the fuck off already? I mean, damn.

  “Sparrow,” my father’s deep, booming voice barks in irritation.

  “Don’t even, Dad.”

  “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you need to leave this fucking attitude at the door. We don’t deserve your aggression. We don’t deserve to be treated like common strangers. We’re your goddamn parents. Give us the respect we deserve, young lady, or I’ll turn you over my knee. I don’t give a good goddamn how old you are.”

  Sighing, I place my elbows on top of the bar, hiding my face. “How did you even find out about him? I went to great lengths to keep his presence a secret.”

  “He called us.”

  At my mother’s admission, I can’t help it when my arms fall away from my face to land on top of the bar. Glancing over my shoulder, I eye her up and down, wondering if she’s lying to me and they just didn’t pop in for a visit with Brandy. They have been known to do that a time or two, mostly to make sure we had everything we needed. Fuck, this is all too much of a coincidence to suggest otherwise.

  The more I think about it, the more it nags at the back of my mind. “Drake called you all? From what phone?”

  “That little angel called from Brandy’s phone last night,” she says, and it’s then I notice the glimmer of pure unadulterated happiness shining through her eyes.

  And they just believed him? My God, it could have been someone pulling a prank on them, for all they knew.

  “So, you just took a nine-year-old at his word?” I ask incredulously. “A fucking nine-year-old.”

  This time, my eyes flick to my father as a prominent smile blooms across his face. “It was hard not to.”

  “Do tell,” I say, turning toward them, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

  Unbelievable. My parents would be the only two people on the face of the planet who will believe anyone as wholeheartedly as they do. For all they know, Drake could have been some stalker that hijacked Brandy’s number then deleted all the evidence afterward. Hey, don’t knock it. I bet that shit’s been done more times than I can count.

  “He knew everything about us.
Things that only immediate family members know. He knew about that time your father fell off the pier in Santa Monica. The time Jacob and Caleb both got stuck on top of the Ferris wheel in Jersey, and they pissed themselves because they were so scared. He knew about the times Derrick would take the Maserati, even though the only people to know about that were you, Declan, and Derrick.”

  My father picks up where my mother left off when she begins to tear up, her throat clogging with emotion. “That little boy recounted every family vacation we’ve ever had. Described, with conviction, the time I smashed your face in your birthday cake when you were thirteen. Most importantly of all, he called me Poppy and he called your mother Mam.”

  Stumped, I ask, “Why would those names cement your decision to abduct a child you have no idea who his parents are?”

  My father doesn’t reply for a second, just sits there, staring at me in silence. His eyes tear up the longer he looks at me, before he has to bring his fingers to his eyes, pinching away the stubborn tears. “That’s the name you swore your children would call me someday. Since I know the whereabouts of Derrick, Jacob, and Caleb, and you’ve been so goddamn secretive and moody since that dipshit skipped town, I knew I was talking to your son—our grandchild. It made me finally connect the dots on all your offhanded behavior over the years.”

  I will the floor to swallow me alive, save me from the mess I made. There’s only so much a person can deal with at a time, and seeing both of my parents’ faces twisted in anguish is too much. I’ve let them down. Did something so callous I’m beside myself with horror. And, the worst part about it is, they still haven’t gotten to the topic of Declan being the father.

  How can an action so innocent cause such an uproar?

  Chapter Nine

  Declan

  “Mom never told me you were an imbecile,” Drake murmurs, causing an evil smirk to tug at the corner of my lips.