Phoenix Rising Rock Band: The Series

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  Inwardly, I wince. His words dent some of my resentment. The only way I can get upstairs is if I climb up the column and make it to the second-floor veranda at the back of the house. Burglary is one skill I don’t have.

  “I was just fucking with you,” I tell him, cursing him under my breath and wishing I could find a way up there.

  He nods. “There’s a woman out there for you.”

  I stiffen. He has a lot of fucking nerve discussing a woman being for me. As usual, Sloane ignores my mood change. I gnash my teeth together and my spiking rage and hiked pulse.

  “When you find her,” he continues, “you’ll understand why I’d buy Georgie the planets if she asked me to. But she didn’t ask me for the island. I surprised her. Had I told her beforehand, she would’ve talked me out of it. I told her she either keep it and use it, or it would remain uninhabited and I’d lose all the money I spent.” He grins. “Stop blaming her for what I decided to do.”

  I shift, resentment seething in me that his precious wife is so loyal to him. She refused to fuck me, while mine fucked Sloane without a second thought.

  “See? I opened up to you. Stop being an asshole, asshole,” he jokes. “You’re my brother. I have your back as long as you have Georgie’s. And mine,” he adds, so he won’t sound so pussy-whipped.

  At one time, I only had his back on the clock. Times had been different. Until the island incident.

  No, until he announced cutbacks in both touring and money-spending, which came before the island purchase.

  No, I had his back until…FUCK! I scrub a hand over my face.

  Clenching my jaw, I mirror his earlier move and nod. He opened up to me about his wife, too easily. He’s hiding something. It won’t do me any good to question him. He’ll brush me off. I have to wait for two months, until he returns to civilization, to uncover the mystery. Unless I search for answers on my own.

  He gives me one, last inscrutable look before turning and heading to a counter, where he’ll be led to a lounge for passengers flying first-class. As he walks by, people stop and stare. Random gasps and squeals resound. A lone paparazzi snaps Sloane’s photo. Nowadays, he’s more cooperative. He’s learned if he gives them a little, they’ll back off. Somewhat.

  He’s done it all for Georgiana. At one time, he’d punch the fuck out of a paparazzi motherfucker who invaded his space. Because of his wife, he’s made incredible changes. His entire perspective is different, including his will for a happy, normal life.

  I could respect that, if it wasn’t for the reason he did it. All because of a woman. A girl.

  A fucking fickle female.

  If he wants to live by the whims of Georgiana, and treat me like an employee instead of family, that’s up to him.

  He’s making his bed, so let him lie in it.

  Chapter Two

  Now that I have the next few weeks off, I intend to use this opportunity to spend more time with my mother. She’s doing well enough with just her cook and housekeeper coming in daily. I, also, make it a point to see her at least twice a week, even if that means hopping on a plane to fly to Denver after a show, from wherever in the world we happened to be. Often, I turned right back around to fulfill my duties to Sloane and the other members of Phoenix Rising.

  As I enter the building where my mother’s penthouse is located, I wave at the security guy, then head to the private elevator and use my key card to enter. I have every measure in place for my mother’s safety and comfort. Including the ability to use a special code to control the elevator from the apartment or using an access code or having someone—usually me—meet them on the fifth floor to escort them to the tenth.

  Approaching my mother’s door, I hear loud sobs and a man’s voice. My muscles tense and I go on high alert, throwing the unlocked door open and rushing to the living room. Surprise halts me.

  Joe Groveston, my father’s attorney, is patting my mother’s back and offering her his handkerchief. His usual cigar is missing, though he wears his cowboy boots and Stetson decorated with a small Texas flag in the middle.

  “Mom? Joe? What’s going on?”

  If Groveston is here and my mother is crying…I don’t allow my thoughts to wander further.

  Mother lifts her head. Tears streak her cheeks and brim in her eyes. I hurry to her side. Immediately, she turns from the attorney and falls into my arms.

  “I hate him!” she screams, pounding on my chest. Wildness creeps into her eyes. Snot leaks onto my arm. She swipes an arm across her runny nose. “I hate him!”

  “Who?” I don’t want her to end up back in a mental institution, so, instead of pressing her, I look at Groveston. “What’s happened?”

  The attorney sighs, the sound more dramatic than necessary. “It’s Rand.”

  Rand. Dad. For a moment, my mind blanks, then memories crash through me. It’s hard for me to dredge up a good father/son moment between us. For awhile, we bonded over our shared mistreatment of Sloane. Even that was an illusion. Sloane always was the golden boy. The prince.

  Now, my father is…I rub my eyes.

  Dread fills my gut. Over the past several years, I’ve often said I want my father dead. “What happened? How’d he die?”

  Mother yanks herself from my arms and shoves me. “He’s not dead! But he’s done it,” she wails. “He’s deserted me, you, us.”

  Newsflash: He deserted us years ago.

  “What are you talking about, Mother?”

  She hates when I don’t call her ‘mom’. As expected, she scowls at me. However, she knows I mean business. ‘Mom’ is said to soothe and coddle her. Mother is used to obtain answers and cooperation.

  “Your father has left his entire fortune to Sloane.” Groveston’s words are cold and clipped.

  I squint at the attorney, sure I’ve misheard. “What do you mean?”

  Mother’s entire body trembles. “He means you get nothing.”

  “No,” I deny. “Dad promised me…” He made Jaeger and me work with—serve—Sloane. He fucking swore none of us would see a cent if we didn’t work together. Fine for Sloane. He was making his own money. The only thing Dad had over Sloane was the fact that he’d supposedly murdered our sister.

  Jaeger and me, however, were damned anyway we went. If we left the fold to make our own way, Dad intended to disown us. We didn’t know what that meant. Nor did we trust him not to destroy us so completely that we couldn’t have found jobs as baggers at a grocery store.

  Dad said we needed to keep a watch on Sloane, so he wouldn’t drag the family name down. Sloane, however, tried his best to do so. He was a notorious womanizer, drug addict, alcoholic, and troublemaker. He made it so easy for us to believe he had it in him to kill. Yet, Jaeger managed Phoenix Rising and I kept them safe.

  Dad had his wish. We might’ve hated each other, but his three sons worked together. My father promised me…

  Fuck Dad’s promises. Who am I kidding? They aren’t worth piss. “Sloane promised me that Dad’s fortune belongs to me and Jaeger. That he has his own money.”

  As a matter of fact, Sloane said he wanted no part of Dad’s fortune. That’s how much he hates Rand Mason. He claimed that, as Rand’s older sons, Jaeger and I deserved Dad’s money more.

  Mother doesn’t fly off the handle at the sound of Jaeger’s name. She just shakes her head, the bun she always styles her hair in, loosening. “Sloane lied to you. I always told you not to trust him. He’s only out for himself.”

  “No, Mom. I refuse to believe…” Desperate to hold on to the belief that Sloane wouldn’t betray me so greatly, I look at the attorney, uncertain as to what’s really going on. “Tell me what has brought this about?”

  Mother shoves me again, though I don’t budge. Her weight against my muscles is no match. She races to the coffee table and picks up a sheaf of papers. Using the back of her hand to wipe her eyes, she throws the documents at me. They hang in the air a second, then flutter, before floating to the floor.

  “That.” She
points to the papers. “That! It’s all there. Rand has left everything to Sloane.”

  She doubles over and my heart drops at the sight of my mother’s heartache.

  “It’s more than that,” Groveston tells me as I go to my mother and pull her into my arms again. “Rand has already turned over his entire fortune to Sloane. He says it does him no good in prison. He has made provisions for you and Jaeger. If Sloane cooperates.”

  “What do you mean?” My words sound distant and far away. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

  “You and your full-blood brother will be written back into the will, if, after three years, Rand is still alive to do it, and your half-brother, Sloane, has accepted—and used some of—the money. As you can understand, that first condition isn’t a problem. I received the documents this morning with Sloane’s signature, from his attorneys.”

  “What the fuck do I need to sign for if the money is already handed out?” I fume. This makes no fucking sense.

  “It’s not for his benefit,” Groveston states calmly. “Rand doesn’t want Sloane to have his inheritance tied up in court by you boys. He wants Sloane to enjoy the money, without issue.” He makes a sound of disgust.

  “How the fuck isn’t that benefiting him, Joe?” I yell. “So far, I haven’t heard anything that’ll help me.”

  “Calm down, boy,” Groveston tells me, offering a fatherly smile of sympathy. “It benefits you because you’ll end up with money if you follow that wastrel’s lead and sign off on the papers Rand had me draw up.”

  For long moments, I don’t feel. I don’t hear. I don’t see. Rage consumes me. After all the years of…that motherfucking asshole! That’s what he meant when he said he’d be set for life. His “opening up” to me was no more than a smokescreen to cover the fact he’d stabbed me in the back.

  “If Sloane should die before those three years are up, the money is reabsorbed into your father’s estate and divided between you and Jaeger. In that case, Rand has also graciously promised provisions for Alexia.” Groveston indicates my quietly sobbing mother.

  I’m still embracing her and patting her back to comfort her. Seeking solace myself.

  “The terms are all there in the documents Alexia tossed at you,” Groveston says. “If you’d care to read them. Once you do, you have to sign off that you also accept the terms and agree to not challenge the will.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I bark. “Sign away my inheritance to that fucking asshole? No. Fuck no.”

  “Sloane has already signed, Kiln,” Groveston reminds me. “Your signature will only be an acknowledgment that you understand what’s happening and won’t cause trouble.”

  “That motherfucker stole my money.”

  “He has,” Groveston agrees. He never liked Sloane. “I wish I knew what your father sees in that troublemaker, but Rand’s my client. I have to follow his orders.”

  “Yes, I know,” I say starkly.

  Memories of the moments that Sloane smiled in my face, called me ‘brother’, and drank with me, over the past months, hit me hard. No wonder he’s never acknowledged me in public. I’m even less to him than I am to Rand. I’m the person Sloane targets to continually betray and make an ass of.

  I’m not his fucking family. His brother. His children’s uncle. I’m just Kiln, a drone in the king’s nest.

  No wonder I’m not allowed on the second-floor of his mansion.

  Mother stumbles out of my embrace and turns to Groveston. “You’re a good man for flying here to inform us personally.”

  Groveston walks to Mother and places his hands on her shoulders.

  It might be my imagination, but she seems to lean into his touch.

  Clearing his throat, he gives me an uneasy look then focuses on my mother again. “Rand is behind bars because he protected Sloane, Alexia. Took the blame for Stefanie’s murder. The poor man betrayed his true family, for an unappreciative leech who would’ve been better off not being born.”

  Mother nods vigorously at the attorney’s disparagement of Sloane. I frown at Groveston. It’s one thing for me to feel that way but an outsider shouldn’t voice such opinions. This is a family matter.

  Before I correct him, he continues.

  “He’s betrayed you, Alexia.”

  “Yes, Sloane has,” she agrees in a hoarse voice.

  Groveston pats her head. “No, my dear. Not Sloane. Rand. He’s overlooked two fine sons for that worthless scalawag.” Dropping his hands from my mother’s shoulders, he steps back. “Never you fear. Rand might be hoodwinked by that coward, but I’m not. I’ll see to it that you’re not left penniless and out in the cold.

  Hearing my greatest fear voiced sends chills through me.

  Mother sucks in a breath and covers her face. None of us have ever quite recovered from my sister’s drowning. Dad always insisted Sloane committed the heinous crime. Then, out of nowhere, he confessed to her murder on national television.

  He never once considered me, Jaeger, or my mom. For years, he’d fed our belief that Sloane was a murderer. We heard a different story at the same time the world did.

  Now, once again, we’re the last in the family to receive devastating news, with a lasting impact.

  “Why are you here, Joe?” I demand. “This could’ve been explained in a phone call.”

  “I serve as stand-in for Rand in these matters. Otherwise, I’d just prepare the documents and leave him to smooth things over with his family and don’t take into account prison walls separate you from him.”

  “Do…do you think Rand’s innocent?” Mother sobs. “I could never believe he killed our daughter.”

  I can. However, I also want to believe Sloane killed her out of jealousy. Fuck wanting to. I do believe he could’ve done it. Until he was ten years old, he had Dad all to himself, and then, suddenly, he had to share him, not only with two other boys, but a girl as well. There’s an unbreakable bond between men and their daughters.

  On the other hand, Dad had a violent streak that ran deep. If he and Stefanie argued, and she got him on a bad day, he would’ve subjected her to any number of punishments.

  “I’ll be in town one more day.” Groveston speaks into the silence that fell at Mother’s question. One that the attorney never answered. He looks at me. “You have my mobile number. Call me this evening to let me know when you can sign the document that needs your signature.”

  “I’ll tell you now,” I sneer. “Not until Sloane returns. I want to hear his explanation before I sign anything.”

  “I understand you’re upset,” Groveston says in an attempt to soothe me. He only sounds condescending. “But there’s nothing you can do to change this situation. I spoke to Jaeger on the way here and he’s resigned to Rand’s decision. I have a meeting with your brother in two hours to get his signature.”

  Jaeger is different from me. This change will never matter as much to him as it does to me. He’s the first-born son. While not as revered as Sloane, he wasn’t a hated either.

  “I have Sloane’s signature. I’ll get Jaeger’s. I only need yours before I report to Rand.” Groveston adjusts his Stetson. “Don’t put me in a bind. I’m only doing my job. If I don’t secure everyone’s cooperation this time around, my bonus is out the window.”

  “Fuck your bonus. I’m not signing. Talk to me in two months when Sloane returns.”

  Groveston’s mouth turns down. “I have no choice but to accept that,” he says with a sigh. “After all, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. In your case, he has to go with his conscience and hurt pride.”

  I don’t respond.

  “Good day, Alexia. Kiln.” The attorney remains a minute more, before heading to the door.

  I barely acknowledge Groveston’s departure. Anger and resentment burrow into me. I stare at those papers, proof that Sloane is all for himself. He’s never meant any good to me. Perhaps, that’s why over the years, I’ve never quite been able to overcome my bitterness toward him.

  Des
pite how much I’ve tried to forget, I remember walking into my house and seeing Sloane fucking my wife in my bed. Of all the fucking people Dietrech could’ve had an affair with, she chose Sloane.

  Sloane came out none the worse for wear. He’s ended up having children, a wife, and stability, all the things his selfishness denied me.

  Now, this. The ultimate betrayal. After stealing our father’s love and living in his ivory tower, he is the sole heir, with my future, my fortune, in his hands.

  “You’ve got to kill him.”

  Mother’s voice is low, but her words are unmistakable. They reach me down to my soul. I both welcome them and recoil from them.

  I crouch down and begin to gather the papers. “Don’t be ridiculous. He’ll get his soon enough. Why should I risk my freedom on that merciless motherfucker?”

  Sitting back on my haunches, I rifle through the documents, searching for the one with Sloane’s signature.

  When I find it and read over it, hatred wells in me. I want to fucking murder him.

  “He has to die,” Mother hiccups.

  “Excuse me?” His signature keeps jumping out at me, much like his cock did when he pulled it out of my wife, glistening with her juices, and shoved it into her mouth.

  “Sloane has to die. He killed Stefanie. He ruined your life by having an affair with your wife.”

  “Sloane was high when he carried on with Dietrech, Mother,” I hear myself saying.

  Am I fucking crazy? I’m defending him for what reason?

  Have I been that brainwashed by his bullshit that my protection of him comes automatically nowadays? Or has my job instilled it in me?

  “He has to die!” Mother screams at me and lands a blow to my back that makes me jump to my feet. As I turn, she kicks my ankle.

  “Ouch, fuck!”

  She prepares to assault me again but I back away and grab her upper arms. “Stop it, Mom! Just fucking stop! I don’t want to have to sedate you.”

  It’s been weeks since her last violent episode that had me on the verge of either re-committing her or hiring a caretaker to be here 24/7.