Black Swan Affair

by K. L. Kreig

  Then why am I not? And what do our fathers have to do with any of this?

  And other questions start creeping in, smothering out the ones before them. Equally important ones like: Is this move coincidental or strategically planned? Is it really about Kael and I starting a fresh life together or did Kael just want to get me out of town to keep some sort of sordid secret from me?

  And the answers…they seem so fucking clear, it’s as if I’m looking through a magnifying glass. Whatever it is Killian passionately wants me to know, Kael doesn’t with equal fervor. Of course this was methodically planned. How could it not be? Kael all but just admitted it.

  We all have dirty hands here. You, me, Jillian, our parents. Her parents.

  I choke back a sob, stuffing my hand in my mouth.

  What do I do? What the fuck am I supposed to do with this? I’m leaden, stuck in indecision. Turns out I don’t have to decide. I cringe when a loud bellow floats from behind me. “Maverick, what are you doing out here?”

  Great fucking timing, Larry.

  “Shit,” I hear Kael mutter. Seconds later, he appears from behind the brick, Killian on his heels. The rays from the lone streetlight hit them just right and I can make out every emotion they’re wearing. Guilt, worry, and rage are written in the hard lines of their faces. We stand there staring at each other, my eyes bouncing back and forth between them. I ignore Larry when he brushes against my shoulder.

  “Hey.” Kael tries for lighthearted. Big fat fucking fail there. He takes a step toward me. I hold out my hand, palm facing him.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” he answers evenly.

  “Nothing? Really? That’s your answer?” My blood pressure soars as my gaze shifts to Killian. He’s working his jaw back and forth so hard he’s probably wearing down the enamel on his teeth, but his gaze never wavers from mine. “What exactly is it time for me to know?” I ask him pointedly.

  “Maverick—” Kael starts, but when I whip my attention back to him he shuts up quick.

  Returning to Killian, I ask again. Almost beg, “Tell me, Killian. You owe me that much.”

  He hesitates, glancing over at Kael. “Everyone’s out of sorts, Small Fry. It was nothing. Just a disagreement.”

  He’s hedging his bets. Wondering how much I overheard. Well, fuck them both. I’m not leaving this spot, and neither are they until I get some goddamn answers.

  “If that word—nothing—comes out of either of your mouths again, I swear to fucking God someone’s going to get hurt,” I say through gritted teeth. My fingers curl into my palms, the nails biting the thin skin.

  “Uh, I think I’ll just be going,” I hear Larry worriedly say to my left. Good call, Larry. I don’t bother responding. Neither does Kael or Killian. Then the three of us face off. I don’t plan on moving a fucking inch until I get the truth.

  Kael takes another subtle step toward me, his baritone voice smooth and coaxing. “Mavs…” He looks like he’s ready to crack. Well so am I. I feel as if I’m going to split right down the middle.

  “Please don’t,” I whisper. The dam I’ve been using to hold back fresh tears breaks and water gushes over its broken walls. “Don’t lie to me. Not now. Please, Kael.”

  His face pales. Even in the low light I watch the blood drain out of it. Then his posture slumps. His head hangs. I think I even see his eyes glisten before he hides them from me. In fact, I know I do. When my attention shifts over to Killian, he just looks resigned. And sad. So very, very sad.

  The Black Swan Theory.

  According to Nassim Nicholas Taleb, a small number of Black Swan events explains almost everything in our world, from the success of ideas and religions to the dynamics of historical events, to elements of our own personal lives. Sit back and take stock of your own life. How many things went according to plan?

  Life is unusual. Extreme events occur. They are unpredictable and impactful and our human brains work overtime trying to explain those phenomena away.

  That’s exactly what I’m trying to do this very second. Rationalize why I know the two men I love most in this world are about to shatter it to fucking shards.

  It’s right then that I knew Killian’s betrayal in marrying my sister wasn’t my Black Swan event. I thought it was, but it’s not. It was simply a byproduct. It’s this, right here. Whatever they’ve hidden from me is bigger than that. Far bigger and far, far reaching. So far reaching in fact, it was wholly unpredictable and its impact will be felt a lifetime.

  By all of us.

  Killian is back. Fucking Killian is back. Here. In Dusty Falls. At DSC. I watched him walk by my office. He didn’t turn his head. Didn’t stop and say hi. I didn’t even know he was coming. But that’s not a surprise. Killian and I aren’t exactly tight anymore.

  The fact that he’s walking through the halls of DSC is not a good sign. He’s been gone just over four months and if he’s meeting with Richard DeSoto, it can only mean one thing.

  He’s coming back.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Fucking fuck.

  If Richard hires him again, I’m outta here. I may not have Maverick. I may never have her. In fact, I realize now that’s probably always been a pipe dream. Unrequited love and all. But I simply cannot stomach sitting day after torturous day watching the woman I love be with my brother. I can’t know she’s in his bed, wearing his ring, bearing his children. I just fucking can’t.

  She’s curled around my every thought and feeling, so one would think I would have gone after her the second the sole of Killian’s shoe hit the first step on that 747. Well, one would be wrong. He may have been out of her sight, but it was crystal clear he wasn’t out of her mind.

  In fact, I’ve been spending less and less time with her because I just can’t stand to be around her anymore and not tell her how much her snubs are slowly killing me. I can’t beg her to choose me when I know she wants him, but I also can’t keep these feelings of desperate love I have for her inside me anymore. It’s too fucking hard. And if I tell her, I lose her. Period. And I can’t handle that either. I would sacrifice everything I want for her wants just to keep her in my life, because the view without her in it is unbearable, but with Killian back…

  …that all changes.

  Acid pushes its way up my throat. It tastes of hate and failure and loss. I look around my spacious office, taking in everything I’ve worked for the last two years. It’s all meaningless. Accolades. Promotions. Money. There are a dozen DSCs out there and I can easily get picked up by any of them. Or by another company for that matter. I didn’t return to my hometown to be Richard DeSoto’s lap dog. That was the last goddamn thing I wanted. No. I came back to Dusty Falls for one reason and one reason only.

  And now that reason is irrelevant. Lost to me forever.

  I’ve known this for months—ever since Maverick moved back from college and started secretly seeing Killian. It’s just taken me this long to accept it. It took seeing my brother again just now to shove that goddamn Dear John letter straight into my heart so I have no choice but to read the words I’ve been avoiding for years.

  Maverick is in love with my brother. Not me.

  It fucking kills me—decimates me—but I have to let her go. If Maverick wants Killian, why shouldn’t she have him? If he makes her happy, who am I to step in between that? All I want—all I’ve ever wanted—is to see her happy. I hoped it would be with me, prayed it so many fucking times I’ve lost count. But if it’s not, it’s not. So be it. I will accept it like a man. Killian was right all those years ago. I’m apparently not what she wants. He is.

  But I sure as Christ don’t have to sit on the sidelines and have it shoved down my throat daily either. No…I’m fucking out of Dusty Falls. Tonight I’m polishing up my resume. I’ll put a few feelers out and get on with my life. Hell, I may not even wait that long. I mentally calculate how much I have in savings. Probably enough to get by a few months.

  Yeah. Yeah, it’s
the right thing. Tomorrow I’ll give my two weeks to Richard; then I’m dust in the wind.

  Mind made up and with lungs so taut I feel I might choke, I try turning my attention back to the contract in front of me. The words blur together. Just when I get them in focus, they blend again. In the very definition of insanity, I keep trying this exact same thing, but the end result is the same. The squawk of my phone a while later is a welcome reprieve from my futility. “Yeah?” I say blandly when I pick up the handset.

  “Kael, I need you in my office.”

  “Now?” I ask, confusion drawing my features tight I’m sure.

  “Now.”

  Richard hangs up before I respond. A short walk later I’m standing at his open door and the tension pouring from his cozy corner office is so thick it’s stifling. It sticks to my suit, sitting as heavy as humidity. He rests behind his desk, a scowl on his face. Not surprisingly Killian sits stiffly in a guest chair. What does take me aback though is that our pops is in the other.

  “What’s up?” I ask, my gaze bobbing between the three of them.

  He nods to the door. “Close it and have a seat. I need you to draw up some papers.”

  “Papers?” I practically snarl. Of course, you fucking idiot. Employment papers. Well, Richard, this is my last task at DSC, because I’ve just decided I can’t even stay here another day let alone another fourteen.

  Reeling my emotions in is like grappling with a twenty-five-pound bass. I manage, but barely. Doing as he asks, I shut the four of us in together and pull up a chair between my father and brother, careful to stay out of choking distance of Killian.

  When I’ve sat, Richard looks to my father. “Arnie, do you want to explain or should I?”

  Now I’m confused as all hell. What would Pops have to do with Killian working here? All eyes fall to my father and now that I look closely, he’s positively ashen. All his color is gone. His face is drawn. His eyes are broad and desolate. The hair on my arms stands on end.

  This meeting isn’t about Killian at all.

  “Pops, what’s wrong?”

  “I, uh—” He stops and swallows so hard I hear it. He holds Richard’s angry stare. Those two have been friends as long as I can remember; only they look anything but friendly right now. I look at Killian and his gaze is not on Pops but on the floor. His teeth are grinding together and he’s gripping the arms of his chair so hard, the wood may crack. Whatever it is they need to tell me, it’s big. It’s bad. And I’m the last to know.

  I reach over and take my father’s hand. “Whatever it is, Pops, just say it. It’s okay.”

  Killian snorts. I ignore him, focusing on Pops. Tears well in the eyes of the man I’ve looked up to my entire life. My role model. My teacher. My protector. My mentor and now my friend. But when he starts telling me why I’m sitting in Richard DeSoto’s office being asked to draw up legal papers, I go into shock.

  “I took something that wasn’t mine to take,” he starts.

  “That’s an understatement,” Killian mumbles under his breath.

  I slide my gaze to Killian then back to Pops. My father is about the most honest man I know. There’s no way what he just said is true. “What do you mean you took something that wasn’t yours to take? What?”

  “He stole over twenty million dollars from DSC, that’s what,” Killian sneers when my father clams up.

  “He what?” I stammer, not believing a word out of his mouth right now.

  “Yeah, you know. Keeping up with the Joneses and all that shit,” my brother growls.

  “You’re lying,” I throw down, pushing up from my chair. “This is all some big mistake. A problem in accounting is all. We all know Margie is completely incompetent.” I start pacing, eyeing Killian who doesn’t have a sympathetic fleck in his hard stare. Richard is an exact reflection of my brother and when my gaze finally lands back on my father, I see it’s all true. Every goddamn word of it.

  They aren’t lying to me.

  There isn’t an accounting mistake.

  My mind races over vacations, cars, clothes, the years of Catholic education and, as the CFO, the access my father had to cook the books any way he wanted.

  Fuck.

  Holy. Fuck.

  “Pops,” I croak, pleading for this not to be true.

  “I’m sorry, son. I screwed up.”

  “You screwed up?” I spit.

  Somehow, I find myself back in my chair, still staring at my father. I rewind the last few minutes. Replay them again. Repeat and repeat.

  Oh my fucking God.

  This is not happening. It’s a nightmare. I’m about to wake up in a cold sweat, my heart pounding, my blood pumping fast and furious. But I don’t. I remain glued to this spot, stuck in a living, breathing nightmare.

  This is real. My father is a criminal. A white-collar criminal. Then a thought hits me. “You’re going to go to jail. Fuck, you’ll have federal charges brought against you.”

  We deal with government contracts. A huge chunk of our business is county, state, and federal contracts, which means he can be indicted under federal law. Penalties will be stiffer. They’ll make an example out of him. This scandal will rock Dusty Falls. It will be national. It will be talked about on the nightly news and featured on shows like 20/20 and Nightline for years. Our family will be dragged through the mud. Our name ruined. My mother…good God. My sweet, innocent mother. This will destroy her.

  And DeSoto Construction? Jesus Christ. This will sink the company Richard DeSoto has built on blood and sweat and the backs of this community. Not another government entity will hire him again. Ever. He’ll be blackballed. Bankrupt within two years. Gossip will travel through generations, embellished with each new tell.

  “No one is going to jail,” Richard belts. “Outside of these four walls, no one will find out about this. Arnie is taking early retirement effective immediately. Health issues. Killian is returning to DSC and will work off your father’s debt, plus interest. You’ll draw up an employment contract for Killian. You will find a way to make sure that contract holds Killian’s feet to the fire and stands up in court but doesn’t disclose enough to land all of us in a goddamn prison cell for life.”

  I gape at Richard DeSoto, unable to believe my ears. “You want me to bury embezzlement? A criminal act?”

  He doesn’t respond, but his silence is all I need. Of course he does. He’s thought through all the ramifications just as I have. This will not only ruin both our families, it will crush Dusty Falls, too. Countless people rely on DSC for their livelihoods and if he falls, Dusty Falls will become a virtual ghost town. My father stole twenty mil from him yet he’s letting him off the hook, unscathed. But someone is paying the price, aren’t they?

  My brother.

  “What are the terms?” Christ almighty, I can’t even believe I’m asking this.

  “The debt is paid in full when he’s hit forty million in sales. So if that takes him two years or ten, well…”

  “Forty million?” Twice the amount my father stole?

  “It was Killian’s offer to keep your father from spending the rest of his days rotting in a jail cell.” Richard glances at Killian waiting for a response. Killian just nods.

  What are the symptoms of shock exactly? Cold, clammy skin? Ragged breathing? Confusion, anxiety, nausea? Sweat running down your balls? Well, check, check, fucking check. Check all the damn boxes. I’m there.

  “You agreed to this?” I finally ask my brother.

  For the longest time, he just stares at me. He’s not back here for Maverick at all. He’s back because our father fucked over his employer and my older brother is bailing him out the only way he knows how. He wants to be back here about as much as I want him to be. I see that now.

  I can’t believe we’ve found ourselves in this situation. Never, in a million years, could I have predicted this. Neither could he.

  “Yes. Draw up the papers, Kael.”

  “But—”

  “Do it,” he barks
. Then his tone softens when he reaches out and clasps my wrist. “Please. Just do it.”

  For a few seconds, I’m taken back in time to when I idolized my older brother. He was smarter. Driven. Loyal. He bullied me as all older brothers do, but he also protected me and loved me fiercely. I miss that. I miss him. But with Maverick between us, we can never be the same again.

  So I nod. Just nod, then choke, “Okay. I’ll do it.” Fuck, I am about to commit a crime myself. Jesus H. Christ. I could go to prison. Be disbarred. Spend years being some big dude’s little bitch. I scrub my hands down my face, trying to absorb what it is I’m about to do. When I lift my eyes to my pops, he sees my internal struggle and I see his remorse. Right now, it’s not nearly enough.

  “There is just one more thing, Kael,” Richard says as I’m numbly making my way toward the door.

  I pivot but don’t speak. I just wait for it.

  “I need you to draw up a prenuptial agreement.”

  I practice corporate law. Contracts, securities, taxes, intellectual property rights, zoning. Those are things I’m familiar with. A lawyer with a family law background would be more acquainted with all issues marital. I studied it, of course, I had to, but I have no practical experience with it.

  “A prenup? For who?”

  “For Killian and my daughter…”

  I swear I stop breathing. My lungs are not working. My body can’t move. I’m having a hard time concentrating as my ears ring with denial. But then I’m saved at the same time I’m thrown off balance when he utters Jillian’s name instead of Maverick’s.

  “Jillian?” I clarify. “Not…” I stop myself just in time. “Jillian?”

  “Yes. Killian and Jillian are getting married.” Richard beams. As if this is common knowledge we all should know and be thrilled about.

  I snort, letting slip, “Since when?” And that question is directed smack at my brother. Now he knows I know. About Maverick. About their sordid affair. About his unintended betrayal.

  “Jillian and Killian are expecting,” Richard adds.

  “Expecting? Expecting what?” I am seriously clueless here.

  “Why a baby, of course.”