The Crow Brothers: JET - TULSA - RIVERS - RIDGE

by Scott, S. L.

  Standing abruptly, she walks a few feet and then turns back. “Where does that leave me, Jet? You’re his father. I’m not his mother.”

  “It leaves you exactly where you’re meant to be, with me and Alfie. It doesn’t matter that you didn’t give birth to him. You are a mother figure to him. You’re the only mother in his life.”

  “But I have no rights.”

  “You have Cassie’s wishes. Those matter.”

  “I have no money. I have no job. I don’t even have a place to live.” Her hands go to the top of her head. “What am I doing?” She starts to cry, but when she sees Alfie nearby, she walks back to me. Standing next to me with her back to the playscape, she wipes away her tears.

  I reach up and take her hand. When she looks down, I say, “Unlike the custody hearing, my love doesn’t come with any conditions. I’ll take the bad with the good. I’ll take you broke or making money. Happy. Sad. Calling me out on my dumb puns. I’ll take the way you love with your whole being, the way you love me and the way you love our son. I’ll take it all as long as I get you.”

  Sitting down on my lap, she hugs my neck and kisses the shell of my ear, and then whispers, “The words I love you don’t feel like enough for how I feel about you.”

  When I catch Alfie’s eyes on us, I say, “Hey, Alfie? C’mere.”

  He runs over and sits on the bench next to me. Patting his back, I stop wasting time and start claiming the life I want. “Hey buddy, I love Hannah.”

  “I love Hannah too,” he says with a smile as if we’ve found something in common.

  We have. I add, “I want Hannah to live with us. Since it’s our home, I thought maybe we could ask her together.”

  His eyes go wide, the sunshine highlighting the happiness inside. “Yes. Yes. Yes, please. Please, Hannah. Live with us. Then I wouldn’t have to live at Grandma’s.”

  Hannah’s expression falls, and she touches his cheek. “You don’t like living there?”

  He shakes his head, and I’m about to speak, but he says, “Mommy’s gone, and I want my books, but I don’t like feeling sad, and when I’m there, I do.”

  If I were listening to an adult, it would have been a lot of beating around the emotional bush, but this kid nails his feelings and speaks his truth.

  Hannah says, “I’ll get your books. I’ll make sure I do.”

  I wish I could give him some guarantees, but nothing is final until the judge rules in my favor. With Hannah’s father stepping in to fund this feud, I need to talk to someone who knows more about the legality of this situation. “You can go play, kiddo.”

  He runs off as if we were holding up his fun all along. I look at my woman, holding her on my lap. “We were never on opposing sides. You and I want the same thing—what’s best for that little boy. Your aunt just wants to win. This is not about slow and steady. This is about a full-on war. I’m not going to lose my son, and I need you by my side when we walk into that courtroom.”

  “I’ll be there. I’ll be whatever you need me to be, babe.” Glancing once at Alfie, she says, “You called him our son.”

  “He is. He’s our son, Hannah. Will you raise him with me?”

  She’s going to cry again. At least I can tell these are happy tears. Her head falls to my shoulder, and her arms tighten around me. “Where have you been all my life?”

  “Right where you left me.”

  A gentle smile graces her face. “Will you ever forgive me for not staying that next morning?”

  “There’s nothing to forgive. You had your reasons for leaving, but I had mine for wanting you to stay.”

  Cupping my face, she leans down and touches her nose to mine. “You had reasons for me to stay?”

  “I did, baby. I had many.”

  “Tell me just one, Jet Crow, and I’ll be yours forever.”

  “I like the way you look in my bed.”

  She tilts back, laughing. Swinging her hair to the side, she looks beautiful in the sunshine. “Does everything always end in sex with you?”

  “No, sex was just the beginning, baby. The end remains to be seen.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  I kiss her and lean back. “Hey,” I say, giving her a little squeeze. “I’m sorry about your father.”

  “I should have expected it.”

  “That doesn’t make it right.”

  “No,” she says. “It just makes it what it is.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to fight him with you.”

  I stand and set her on her feet again. “I should probably get back.” I kiss her cheek and with my lips pressed to hers, I say, “I love you, Hannah Nichols.”

  “I love you, Jet Crow.”

  “Hey Alfie,” I call out. “You coming with me back to the studio or hanging here with Hannah?”

  “Hannah.” He giggles, sliding down the slide.

  “Okay, I tried to tempt him away. You win, Ms. Nichols. See you later, gators.”

  A kiss is blown my way, and I reach up to catch it because the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen loves me.

  * * *

  The threat from her father and her aunt was taken seriously, but not enough. A letter arrived summoning Hannah to return to Austin with Alfie immediately. I thought it was unwarranted. We only have a week left, but Ivan Nichols doesn’t play nice. He lawyered up against his own daughter.

  Hannah talked to the lawyer she and her aunt were using, but Eileen fired him. He gave Hannah some free advice—return to Austin to show our cooperation and willingness to put Alfie first.

  “The game has changed,” I say, trying to reassure her two days after we received the letter.

  “How are we going to fight them, Jet? My father’s a very wealthy man.”

  “Yet he never helped.”

  “He helped me but only on his terms.”

  “That’s not how parenting works. If we don’t have that love . . . My father left when I was little. I never felt a hole in my life because my mother’s love filled it. You don’t need the man who helped create you. You just need to find the love that fills your soul. Alfie and I love you. I’m not sure if that’s enough. Only you can know that. But you have us, and we’ll help you however you need.”

  “I don’t deserve—”

  “You deserve everything good. You just believed their lies for too long.”

  “I saw the truth in you, and I fell in love.” She snuggles up to me on the couch but looks over at Alfie who has teamed up with Tulsa to play pool against Rivers. “We’ll leave tomorrow because I don’t want to waste legal fees fighting this. My lawyer said he would discount his fee for us for the final hearing. He knows the case. I think we should stick with him.”

  I’m selfish. “I don’t want you to go.” I look behind us when Rivers laughs loud enough to get our attention. Alfie’s a Crow. He fits right in. Teasing Tulsa, the three of them remind me of when I hang with my brothers. “I think you’re right. I like having him near. I like this routine we’ve fallen into, but the advance isn’t enough to fight a long drawn out legal battle.”

  “We won’t have to,” she says, resting her hand on my chest and looking at me. “My attorney said he wants to recommend custody remain with you with my support. If we want, we can ask the court to appoint an attorney for Alfie. Someone to represent his best interest as well, but I don’t think we need to. The judge will see that we’re a family. That matters.”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  “You showed up when no one thought you’d even care.” The pressure of her hand over my heart brings me comfort. She kisses the edge of my jaw and whispers, “I know what you’re thinking. I see it in your eyes. You want to fight and so do I, but you need to stay and finish the album. We’ll go, and everything will be okay, but know that I’ll miss you.”

  Closing my eyes, I savor the feel of her lips on my face. Tilting my head up, I want to see her gorgeous eyes. “I’ll fly back as soon as we’re done.”

&n
bsp; “We’ll be waiting for you.”

  I kiss her quick and shift to get up. “I want to spend some time with Alfie before you guys go.”

  She settles down onto the couch as I walk around. “Alfie, how about you and me versus your uncles?”

  “Yes!” he exclaims, running into my arms. “I want Daddy on my team.”

  Tulsa and Rivers do a double take and then look at each other with grins on their faces. Daddy. I freaking love when he calls me that. “So which stick do you want to use?”

  I set Alfie down, and he takes off to grab a stick from the rack, giving me a chance to check on Hannah. Resting on her elbow, she watches us over the back of the couch with a smile on her face. Keeping her voice low to keep things between us, she says, “Go get ’em, Daddy.”

  I’ve already won. She and Alfie are my prize.

  31

  Jet

  My world left on a plane two days ago. Alfie and Hannah. Hannah and Alfie. We’ve been a family for too short a time to have it ripped away.

  I’m booted in the ass, and Rivers says, “Play the fucking intro, Jet.”

  Snapping back to reality, I look up to find all the guys in the studio standing with their arms crossed and staring at me. Not one friendly face found in the bunch. “Sorry. From the top.”

  No breaks come for another hour, and when I go to smoke out back, I’m followed by Derrick Masters—guitarist for The Resistance. He’s not been around much since he’s not producing our album like Johnny, Dex, and Tommy. He’s sat in a few times, though, and drank and jammed with us afterward. He’s a badass musician with the fastest fingers I’ve ever seen move across a fretboard.

  My cigarette isn’t even lit when he sits in a chair, keeping some distance. I nod, acknowledging him. “What’s up, man?”

  “Getting fresh air, like you, even though you’re the one polluting it.”

  He doesn’t laugh and neither do I. Since Hannah and Alfie left, I’ve been smoking more than I ever did before. At this rate, I can’t imagine quitting. It’s the only thing I have right now to help keep me calm. It used to be my music. But with Alfie and Hannah gone, the pressure of trying to get custody, the album along with this interview we’re doing tomorrow, nothing else is working.

  Derrick says, “Want to talk about it?”

  “Not really.” I walk a little farther, down the steps, and stand on the grass. Johnny Cash’s “I Walk the Line” is heard in the distance, and I watch the horse working its way over to the neighbor’s pasture at the back of the property. I don’t know what that’s about, but I don’t think I’ll ever see a weirder sight than that.

  I take a drag and look over my shoulder. Derrick sits, soaking up the sun. “Fine. Let’s talk about it.”

  “I know what it’s like to be where you are now.”

  “Where am I?”

  “You’re caught between this dream that seems too good to be true, questioning your abilities on this instrument that’s gotten you this far, and where your heart used to be.”

  I tap my chest. “It’s right here.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s in Texas, but we need it to be here, to be heard in the music. You told us she’s fine. Your kid’s fine. Don’t get distracted from the right you’ve earned to be here.”

  “How do I focus?” How do I not think about them?

  “They’re with you.” He taps his temple and then his heart. “They’re just not physically here. I know you have a lot on your mind right now, and these concerns for her have weighed on you for the past few days. But she’d want you to be present at the moment, not worrying about her, which doesn’t do anybody any good anyway.”

  He moves a little closer but still keeps some space between us. “We’re the same age, you and me. I was picked out of obscurity and suddenly living a life most dream about. You know why they chose me to join the band?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I had nothing to lose, and I played that way.”

  “I have everything to lose.”

  “That’s what makes your music different from mine. You have the soul I was missing in my earlier days. It’s something I had to learn.”

  “So you want me to learn to play like nothing else matters?”

  “No, I want you to channel the wasted energy you’re expending and pour it back into your music where it belongs. Call your girl. Call your son. Then give us three good days, and you can be on the first plane back on the fourth.”

  He starts to walk inside, but the guy’s a mystery, so I ask, “What’s your story?”

  “My story’s too long to tell on a ten-minute break, but if you’d asked me five years ago, it would have been full of highs and lows and a lot of rebellion. Asking me today, I think it’s a lot like yours in some ways. I’ve had a few surprises along the way, but I eventually found my way. You will too.”

  I know he’s right. Hannah’s had no news since her return. Eileen and Hannah’s father, Ivan, haven’t even bothered to see them or call after they found out she returned. They don’t care about her or my son. They just want to control them.

  I have to trust that she would tell me if something’s wrong. It’s her family I don’t trust.

  Texting her, I type: I miss you.

  Her response comes fast: Good.

  I laugh, and type: That’s all I get?

  Her: If I start now, I’ll never finish. There are just too many things I miss about you to text them all.

  Me: Good.

  Her: LOL

  Her: I miss you.

  Me: What happened to all the other things?

  Her: Figured YOU encompassed everything and went with it.

  Me: I’ll give that to you. How are you?

  Her: I’m helping Alfie with his workbook. I think we should re-enroll him in school since we’re back sooner. He’s missed three days more than allowed, but we’ve stayed on track with the homeschooling, so I can petition the absences.

  Me: I agree. I wish I were there to help.

  Her: Don’t worry about us. We’re fine. Just be your amazing self, finish the album, and come back to us.

  Me: I love you. YOU encompasses all of you.

  Her: I love you. That’s the all-encompassing YOU too. Call you later.

  Derrick was right. They’re here in my heart. Now I can focus. Now I will make them proud.

  I go inside, tucking my phone into my back pocket, and grab a bottle of water on the way back down to the studio. The guys are settling back in here and in the booth. Tulsa asks, “You with us, bro?”

  “I’m with you.” I am too. All in and focused. I sling my strap over my shoulder and settle my guitar in my hands.

  Dex comes over the speaker. “Ready to work?”

  I look back at Rivers. “Let’s do this.”

  Then I give a nod to Tulsa, who counts us in. “One. Two. Three. Four.”

  32

  Hannah

  Staring at the TV, I’ve lost track of what cartoon we’re watching. My mind has been wandering for the past hour.

  My gaze shifts to the framed photo of Cassie on the bookcase. The air becomes stale with her lost life and how isolated we are from our family and from Jet. The loss of Alfie’s mom being there for him, watching him grow up and love, and just being his amazing self hangs over my head, clawing at my heart and making me feel guilty. But what’s troubling me is how we got here—why did Eileen turn against us?

  I love Alfie so much that it’s inconceivable for me to imagine Eileen loves him less—her flesh and blood, the legacy of her daughter that lives on.

  She says she wants custody but then doesn’t bother to come see him or even ask us over. This is so confusing and twists my heart. Something’s wrong—more than Cassie’s death. This mission to destroy Jet ultimately makes no sense if she really doesn’t want to see her grandson. Does it bother her that Jet cares? That he stepped up? That if he’d been told, he would have been there all along? Why would she ever want a child to have less love in his life?
r />   I hate her. I hate her for keeping Alfie from his father. I hate her for keeping Jet in the dark about his son. I hate her for treating me like I mean nothing to her. I hate her. I just hate her, but I hate that I feel this much anger, this much discord toward my aunt.

  Alfie’s been asking for his books again and seeing an available spot on the bookcase, I realize I need to get them for him. A confrontation with her is worth it when it’s something good for him. He misses his mom. He needs those books to hold since he can’t hold his mother.

  I get up and open the front door, not wanting to darken the air that Alfie needs to breathe. The cartoons still play inside, but I sit on the swing outside.

  My fingers run over the places I remember Jet’s touching that night I came over, the night I foolishly thought I wasn’t in love with the man. I was. I was the minute I saw him on that stage.

  There was no saving me, my heart already his the moment he opened his mouth and sang that first song. That first night feels like forever ago as his fingers skated over me, each of my heartbeats becoming notes he played in his melody. Sultry. Sexy. Rolling the words he was singing around on his tongue as if they were me.

  The lights shined in his eyes, but somehow, he found me. A girl lost in a shadowed sea of people. He found me like I found him as if we were always meant to be.

  There was no reason I should have been out that night. A fight with my aunt made me walk out, trying to forget my life, and walk into the bar just as the opening act ended. The Crow Brothers came on just as two shots of Fireball began warming me through.

  I never intended to stay. But once they took the stage, I couldn’t leave. As soon as Jet held the microphone, I knew he was singing to me, for me, because of me. And I did what I swore I would never do. I fell quickly for a musician, but not because of his voice or the way he held me captive throughout their set. It was because when the lights shined on him just right, I could see he was just like me.