JAXON “I SAID I’LL HANDLE IT.” I take one deep, long breath in. “BROTHER RONAN WILL TAKE CARE OF EVERYTHING, OKAY?” I let it go, slowly, steadily, until my lungs are empty and I’m sure I’m not stuck in a twisted trance. Ronan’s words from fifteen years ago echo in my ears. Yes. I know he took care of it. He always does what he says, always keeps to his promises no matter how big or small. It’s been almost two decades, and… I know I never asked how he handled it after all those years. We had made it an unspoken rule never to speak of it again. So how? My right leg continuously taps against the floor as my heart and mind race at a pace that makes it so fucking difficult for me to breathe properly. I grip the phone harder with my shaky fingers, making sure it doesn’t slip away. If it’s real–if this is real and not some after product hallucination of the dream that snatched me from my sleep this morning, I need to know. My jaw hardens as I speak. “Listen, I do not know who you are, but I do not appreciate such prank calls.” My father…the voice at the other end of the line laughs. It’s a deep, throaty laughter that resounds through the speaker, over and over. I do not want to admit, I know I shouldn’t, because the second I do, it becomes real. To admit it’s real is to lose the power to fight it. But the sound is too familiar, it hunts the deep dark crevices of my mind where I safely tucked memories of him, buried forever. I haven’t heard that sound in fifteen years. Yet, it’s still powerful enough to form a pool of dread in my stomach. “Don’t be silly, boy,” the words stroll out of his lips when his laughter dies down. Boy. I’m almost thirty years old. I haven’t seen him since I was fourteen. I am not a boy anymore. “I saw you three on TV the other day, you know. Something about revolutionizing technology. I was proud.” I stare at the wall, but all I see is red. My fingers dig into the sheets of my bed, hard enough to tear a hole in it. God, how I hate that tone. That cold, domineering voice of his makes my stomach turn in all the worst possible ways. He’s proud of us? Fuck! I want to scream. To throw the damn phone across the room, but I don’t. Instead, I’m stuck listening to him because I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. “I always thought you three would turn out to be no good after what your mother did to herself. She raised you to be weak men with fragile minds, just like she was.” A bright red flashes in front of my eyes. I wish he was here, standing in front of me. I want to hear him say those words to my face as I gouge his eyes out, one after the other. “This is a joke,” I reply, visibly seething. “You’re dead.” The words are a declaration, a proclamation. They are the truth. He’s dead. Dead to me. Dead to us. Whether or not he’s the one speaking through the phone doesn’t account for shit. He chuckles, and I want nothing more than to slit his throat. “How can you be so sure?” He asks. “You almost sound like you killed me, boy.” The image flashes in my head. It’s quick, violent, and bright. I see myself digging the blade into his chest. I watch myself twist it. I see the light in his eyes slowly dim. His scream rings in my ears. I can’t take it anymore. My thumb ends the call, and I fling my phone across the bed. “Fuck!” My chest rises and fast too fast, like I’m trying to suck air through a straw. I’m panting, coughing, choking on the very air I need to keep my heart beating. Why now? After fifteen years. Why does he have to show up after we have managed to forgive ourselves? When we have finally found a woman we care about enough to put the ugliness of our past behind us? Did the universe have something against our happiness and peace of mind? Something in me snapped once I heard that question. Happiness? Peace of mind? How could we have even yearned for things like that? I rise from my bed with one plan and one plan only: to talk to Ronan. He would know what to do. He always does. He is in a board meeting when I get to the office, and against my better judgement, I find myself pacing about in front of the conference room. Ronan meets my gaze with a raised brow and a frown, and I only let my face and shoulders fall as I shake my head. It’s all he needs to know that something is terribly wrong. He doesn’t glance at me again until the meeting is over. I’m seated in one of the lounge chairs at the front of the conference room when he comes out. “Jaxon?” He calls out. I look up to find him staring at me, deep concern etched in the features of his long face, buried deep in his blue eyes even though he doesn’t out rightly show it. I chuckle lightly. It’s a sad sound, and the only one I’ve been able to make in hours. Ronan’s eyes narrow into slits as he moves closer to me. “Are you alright, man?” As if on cue, the tears rush break away from the back of my eyelids where I did all I could to hide them. Ronan hurries to sit by my side, and pulls me closer to bury my head in his chest. His smooth fingers find the back of my head and he rubs it gently. Just like old times. Some things never change after all. “Come to my office,” he whispers into my ear. “Come and tell me what’s wrong. I’ll fix it. I promise.” But he can’t fix this one now, can he? He closes the door of his office, offers me a seat and a glass of cold water. I wait until I’m no longer thirsty and my throat is no longer heavy before I speak. “Dad called me.” Ronan’s strong, chiseled jaw drops as his eyes widen. I haven’t seen him so shocked by anything in a long, long time. “What do you mean?” “I got a call from him today. It was a private number, but…” “That’s not even possible.” He bangs his tight fist against his table, and pushes his chair backwards as he springs up to his feet. “It’s not fucking possible, alright? He’s dead.” Ronan begins to shake. He tries to hide it, but I can see his fingers vibrate at his sides. His shoulders are trembling. I have to give it to him. He’s doing a good job of hiding it, but I know him better than he thinks. “What are we going to do?” I hate how clueless I am, how clueless I have always been, but it can’t be helped. Ronan picks up his phone and dials a number. “Malachi, my office. Now.” “Great. A family meeting.” He shoots me a stern glare. “This isn’t the time for jokes, Jaxon.” “What?” I fire back. “I’m not the one who said I was going to take care of it, but didn’t actually take care of it. Why are you yelling at me?” Ronan’s eyes darken. He’s about to say something when the door opens. The scent of Malachi’s cologne strolls into the office before he does. “You called me out of a meeting, Ronan. This better be good.” Ronan looks down at me. “Tell him what you told me.” Is he really going to make me repeat that? I get my answer when he cocks his right brow. So, I turn to Malachi and tell him everything about the phone call in great detail, watching carefully as blood slowly drains from his face, leaving behind a horror filled white. When I’m done, I let out a long sigh and lean into my seat. It won’t take a lot of time for their squabble to begin. Malachi would rage about how irresponsible and thoughtless I was, while Ronan would try to get him to calm down and see reasons with me. Squabble begins in five. Four. Three. Two. One. Nothing? Malachi takes a step forward, pulls out the chair beside me, and settles in with his right leg crossed over his left. “So,” he looks up at Ronan. “What do we do?” Just that? Really? Ronan settles into his seat, and takes one long look at Malachi, before fixing his on me. “First, I’ll have to call uncle Abel. He’s the only one who can explain this fucking mess.”Malachi sighs. “Isn’t he in prison?” Ronan shakes his head. “I’ll find a way to reach him,” then he looks up at me. There is no smile on his face, but there’s a glimmer in his blue eyes that reassures me, grounds me. Malachi reaches for my left hand with a bright smile on his face. “We’ll take care of him if he tries anything silly.” His voice is soft and gentle as he squeezes my hand. There is only one thing on my mind. “Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?” We end up laughing about it, but I know they’ve not been able to shake away the worry in their hearts. They’re trying to be strong for me, and I appreciate it, but I wish they didn’t always have to be. I wish I didn’t always give them reasons to worry. I spend the rest of the day in Ronan’s office, until it’s time for dinner. I offer to drive them in my car. It’s the least I could do since they didn’t yell my head off this morning. We arrive at West End just in time for our meeting. Lilith isn’t here yet, but it’s not her absence that caused me to pause and frown. No. It’s the presence of a certain redhead woman in the room, and the lean man she’s with. Sarah throws her head back in laughter, and playfully punches the man seated beside her. The man I personally recognize from Kevin’s party. The man she was going to kiss.