by Kali Brixton
We’d had a disagreement that day over me penning a letter to Charlotte along with Lynn and Elsie’s. I had never written her before, even though she had always included a handwritten note to each of us with every care package she sent from the family. Her notes had always ended with If you can find the time, I’d love to hear how you’re doing—like she wasn’t worth dropping everything for at any given moment. I had been careful not to let him see her words to me, wanting to keep them tucked away for only my eyes. They were tame by all accounts—letters of encouragement, of kindness, of everything and nothing all at once—but every letter of every word written belonged to her, and I treasured every one of them. She had told me in this letter how she had earned enough hours through her dual credit classes to graduate college in two years with a few summer courses in between and how excited she was. I was so fucking proud of her and I couldn’t stand the thought of not telling her, so I waited until the opportunity arose.
He had left to talk to Merritt on Skype when I took the chance along with what nerve I had worked up to write her back, only for him to come back to fetch something he wanted to show his wife. He saw Charlotte’s name at the top and was infuriated that I was writing to her, even though I had kept my promise to him to stay away from her after I royally fucked up and stole her first kiss when she was eleven, and I was fourteen. What Aidan had never realized was it was my first kiss too, and even though I pushed her away after that to keep my word, I could never regret sharing that with the girl who knew how to fill every chamber of my heart with pure joy. He reminded me she was only seventeen and we’d discuss that shit when he returned. I thought about everything I wanted to say to him, finally ready to tell him how I felt about Charlotte—except that conversation never happened. An emergency in a nearby town cut his talk with Merritt short and led us all to be ushered into a Humvee and taken to the spot where all Hell broke loose, the place where he died in my arms.
I rubbed my thumb over the side of the frame where he stood in the picture, an expression of peace where the storm of betrayal and anger had brewed earlier. I never understood what that look was about, but when I tried to address the subject of Charlotte, he stopped me, saying we’d have it when we returned. Only one of us went to the hospital and one of us was taken to the makeshift morgue back at base. All because my thoughts were with the girl I was hopelessly in love with and the conversation I needed to have with her big brother. I missed the sniper on the roof—a sniper Aidan didn’t—and it cost him everything. I was busy positioning myself to get a better shot at the enemy fire we were taking when he charged me, knocking me out of the way of the two shots fired, catching one of them in his upper abdomen.
I wiped away the tear that splashed onto the glass, protecting the last memory we shared on base, his face full of hope and mine full of determination. A few of the guys saw what happened and they covered us, freeing me to look over his wound. Blood poured from the circular opening in his vest and Aidan started babbling, grabbing my arm, trying to get my attention while I scrambled to find something to help slow the bleeding.
I’ve gotta put pressure on it, A.
I can’t…breathe.
The bullet had pierced the bottom of his lung, and his chest cavity was starting to fill, making his breathing erratic and loud over the hail of gunfire surrounding us. I had started to panic, knowing from my training that wounds like these were hardest to stop before…
Stay with me.
Family. Watch them.
I held my hands in place over the wounds, knowing I was hearing his final words and praying to God he’d be merciful and let me trade him spots.
Aidan—don’t do this.
Mer-ritt.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I’ll be there for her, but don’t leave us.
His hand on my arm clenched just a bit tighter as the light in his eyes grew dim. He looked at me like he wanted them to speak for him but couldn’t get them to say what he desperately needed them to say.
Take. Care. Strained gasps pierced the atmosphere. Of her.
I choked out I-I promise before he took his last three ragged breaths.
His hand loosened, but those grayish-green eyes stayed trained on mine. A man who had everything to live for and nothing to regret left this world like it made sense, or it was a part of the fucking plan. I embraced him, not caring if I got hit and joined him, mourning the loss of my best friend. I held his body to mine and wept like a baby, only letting him go when Garrett from our platoon told me I was shot, and I had to release him so he could help me. Two of the guys carried Aidan back to the Humvee while Garrett helped me limp along even though he had a shrapnel wound of his own, causing him to struggle.
I had passed out on the way back to base due to blood loss—a close hit to the femoral artery. I remembered bits and pieces of the journey home: Garrett and a few of the men coming to check on me after emergency field surgery, my sergeant telling me that the Kasens had been notified of Aidan’s death and that our belongings in the barracks would be sent home with me, coming back to a grief-stricken family mourning the loss of their eldest child and brother, and having to tell Merritt what happened because the proper paperwork hadn’t been filed to list Merritt as Aidan’s next of kin.
It was a little over two-and-a-half years since he died, and the pain was sometimes still as fresh as it was in that sandbox overseas. I gently placed the frame on the nightstand and sat on the edge of my new bed, my head in my hands, and wept. I cried for all that I had taken from him and the family who loved him more than life. I grieved for the amazing woman I had made a widow and the incredible son I had made fatherless.
Was this the right thing to do? Was it okay to break that promise to him, even though Merritt was convinced it was what he would have wanted? I had been a guard dog over the family even more than usual since his passing and made good on my word to take care of Merritt and, by proxy, Everett. But would he understand that I wanted to do more than watch over his little sister—that I wanted to make her mine forever?
I laid there a while in the dark, trying to find sleep but coming up empty-handed. Being alone with your thoughts can be a blessing and a curse. In the quiet space that didn’t feel like home yet, I leaned more towards the latter, especially when I thought about the reason why I came back in the first place. I had put too much effort into the last year-and-a-half to give up now, and I knew it was time for me to show Charlotte I could finally be a man worthy of her.
Yet, two questions kept bubbling to the surface as I fought insomnia: Worthy or not, would she even want me to be hers? And would she see me the same if she knew the only reason I’m still here because her brother isn’t?
Chapter Ten
Charlotte
I yawned as I stretched, taking in the stacks of numbers that were anything but promising. Grey and I came into the office long before the crew was due to arrive, and after a fitful night of sleep, I was struggling to keep my focus. These figures were grim, and I wished more than anything I could trade my accounting degree for blissful ignorance or a magician’s wand to make everything better with a few mystic words and the tap of it against a hat of crushed black velvet.
Grey slunk back in his seat, lacing his fingers and cupping them around the back of his head. “So… About my idea—”
I raised a hand to stop him. “I know what you’re gonna say, and I’ve gotta tell you, Grey: I’m not sure this is the route we should go.”
Grey had toyed around with the idea of bringing on an investor a few weeks ago, but I had shut that suggestion down, knowing Daddy wanted to keep the company solely in the family. Staring down the barrel of our potential ruin, the idea was starting to sound more and more tempting, but it’s like eating a box of chocolate-covered cream-filled donuts in one sitting: as great as it sounds, you’ll pack on the pounds. Bloated weight on my hips or at the helm of the company was not something we needed at the moment—or ever.
“Charlotte, I’m not the numbers person—you are—but
I can tell by the look on your face we’re low on options. Plus, with having to train new crew members, it’s an expense we really can’t afford on our own.”
“I hope these will stay. We do not need to hemorrhage any more money.” Dad had done paid internships since the first wave of success with Kasen Construction, citing that a well-trained worker made for a healthier, safer work environment and a better bottom line in the long run. He was 100% correct on that sentiment but losing several newly trained men to Lord and Sons Construction a few weeks after Daddy’s stroke hadn’t been calculated into the budget for the year, and training more people meant slower work output and less money.
Since he was unable to make the decision, Mom insisted that the newest men still be hired, even though work had come to a standstill outside of projects that had to be completed soon. It was the right choice, but it had put a hurtin’ on the finances, especially when some of those men had jumped ship.
“You know what he’d would say…”
“Cut corners, not quality.” We spoke in unison, punctuating one of Dad’s favorite mottos with laughter, mixing it with the popping of the metal exterior of the office as the early morning sun started to show itself.
“You know how he is about budget stuff. If the books balance and our customers are happy, he’s game for pretty much anything. So, let’s talk about how to stay in the black.” Grey shrugged and let it roll off his back like pretty much every other obstacle in life. “Do you think the bank would reconsider the loan expansion?”
“I can run the numbers and see if it would be a good long-term solution. I’d hate to saddle the company with more debt than we can handle.”
“Sounds good. I know the numbers aren’t looking so great, but we do need the help now. Business is slow, but there’s no way to make these contracts happen without extra hands.” Fingers threaded through his dirty blond locks, a tell of his that showed he was more worried than he let on.
“We’ll figure out something. But, do me a favor: do not talk to Daddy about this yet. He doesn’t need the added stress.” I pointed my finger at him, wagging it in a warning.
Grey looked bothered by my suggestion. “I don’t want to keep things from him, Charlotte. It’s still his company.”
“I’m not saying we lie. I’m just saying until we get a solid game plan, mum’s the word.”
He stretched and groaned as his back popped against the hard chair. “Well, I say Mom’s the word. Maybe she could give us some advice. She knows Dad better than anyone and what he’d want to do.”
“Grey, she’s busy taking care of Daddy and helping him with his therapy. She doesn’t need to worry about the company too.”
He propped his foot on his other leg and rested his laced hands in the middle. “Charlotte, unless we can get that loan or some funding from elsewhere, I’m afraid we are in trouble and we may have to entertain other ideas.”
“Yeah. Me too.” A somber reality that neither one of us wanted to entertain yet.
“I know it’s a dirty word, but do you think he’d even consider taking on an investor?” The hope in his eyes was a welcome sight, but the pragmatic portion of my heart I’d had to hone and sharpen over the last few years knew that bubble of faith had to be pricked inevitably.
“I think you already know the answer to that. It’s been a family-run company forever, and Dad’s not keen on letting an outsider in, especially to have control in his company.” Daddy had seen how companies had lost the heart and soul of their operations when an outsider had a say in day-to-day inner workings.
The proof for investors is in the profits, not the people or their products, Charlotte, he would lament. My dad and I had discussed the woes of other construction companies collapsing due to a stagnated economy, which left people like Ferris Lord to come in and offer the owners pennies on the dollar for the company many of them built from the ground up. Not wanting to face personal financial ruin, most of them accepted, and the ones who didn’t eventually closed their doors for good. Dad and Papaw Ree had survived tsunamis of this tug-and-pull with the housing and construction markets, but the lack of business prospects in our town and slowing build-to-suit business had left us out to sea this time without a life raft.
The whir of machines coming to life outside filtered through the tin walls and signaled the experienced crew had arrived.
“Looks like the men are ready for another day.”
“Seems that way. If you want, we can go over to the bank together today and see if the loan expansion would be feasible.”
“I think I can swing it.” A quick glance at my calendar app confirmed he could. “Before I go out, have you talked to Mason lately?”
“Just the random message here and there. Why?”
“He’s been wrapped up with some case here lately, and he’s been unusually silent.”
“He say what it involved?”
“Nah. I just have a feeling something’s up—big time.”
“You all and your twin telepathy.”
“It’s a curse sometimes.” His phone turned in his hand as a small silence settled in the space between us. “I worry about him. It’s like he finds more and more reasons to push us away.”
“I think that might be Mason’s way, Grey. He’s never been overly affectionate.”
“There’s more to it, Charlotte. He’s been edgy lately when I’ve talked to him, especially at the beginning of ball season.”
“Maybe he’s sad he doesn’t get to help you coach?”
“Maybe…”
“Whatever it is, I’m sure he’ll work through it in time. You know how he is…”
“Unfortunately.”
“A brother and a business to save. The list keeps getting longer.”
“The business is the easier fix, I believe. Let’s go over after lunch and see what we come up with.”
“Deal. Need anything from me before I start entering the newbies’ payroll info?”
“I’m good, math whiz,” he sassed as he hugged me, ruffling my hair before ducking out of reach. I swung and missed, which made him only laugh harder. “Call me if you need anything,” he shouted over his shoulder, leaving me to the task I was dreading most today.
I sat at my desk for the next hour or so, manually entering information from each of the new applications. As much as I loved my dad and respected his decisions, there were going to have to be some changes done to make the office workflow more efficiently. I was almost finished when I came upon the one I had been avoiding: Devereaux, Deacon.
I cringed internally, wondering if I’d ever have a normal reaction to see his name or hearing his deep timbre voice. With the obvious answer to that question a resounding no, I swallowed what remained of my pride and started to enter the info before me, each filled-in box a nail in the coffin of my denial that he wasn’t going to be here every day. With nearly everything in its place, I noticed that I had skipped his social security number. I thumbed through the application to the appropriate box and discovered it wasn’t even listed. I did not want to call him in here, so I dialed up Grey instead.
“Hey.”
“Hey. Could you please ask Deacon for his social?”
“We’re in the middle of something at the moment. Can I get it to you in a few?”
“Sure.”
He hung up, and I went back to tidying up a few files on the computer. A while later, bright sunlight filtered in as the door opened, and heavy boots thudded on the floor.
“You could have just texted me.”
“Didn’t want to make myself an easy target.” My eyes shot up to see the last person I wanted to deal with this morning. “Identity theft is a serious problem, you know.”
So is stealing someone’s heart and not bothering to give it back before you walked off.
I put on my business persona to hopefully hurry this mess along. “What are the numbers?”
“421. 343. 7859.”
The nine refused to fit on the line, but I quickly
realized what the problem was. “You gave me too many numbers.”
“Did I?” He walked around the desk and leaned over my shoulder.
I immediately froze. “What are you doing?”
“Seeing what I gave you.”
“You can’t look at this.” My hands flew up to shield the screen from his view. “It’s confidential, and we can’t let unauthorized personnel look at it.”
“It’s my information, Sunshine.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Stop hiding from me.” I didn’t know whether to take those words at face value or chance exploring the double meaning of them.
He reached his big hands and gently pulled my hands back, holding my hands in his, his arms gliding against mine as he pulled them back. “Huh.”
“What?”
“That’s my phone number.”
I looked at him, patience waning. “I asked for your social.”
“My mistake. Besides,” he leaned in closer, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial tone, “I think you already have my number in your phone…”
“Not anymore. I deleted it along with the messages.” I flicked my eyes over my shoulder to his imposing form, making them narrow as they looked him up and down. “Company policy and all.”
“Of course. Can’t let the guys know you were flirting with one of the crew members. Unspoken rules and all.”
“Excuse me?” I questioned, angry seething under my skin.
He laughed a deep laugh. “Lighten up, Charlotte. I was joking.”
I grunted under my breath, “What? You pick up a sense of humor on your way back into town?”
His laughter died. The grimace he sported was satisfying enough for me to steer the conversation back to the task at hand, so I turned my chair back around towards the screen. “Social?”
He rattled off the nine numbers I needed, and I saved the form.