Bro

by Kayelle Allen

  "Your secret's safe with me. No idea about your bio-dad, but I can tell you about my mother. Our mother."

  "Yes!" He pumped a fist. "I love that. I want to hear everything about our mom."

  All the joy left his brother's face and he turned his head.

  "Man, I'm sorry." Senth reached for his brother, but when Khyffen pulled back, he withdrew his hand. "I found out I had a mom in one minute and that I'd lost her in the next." He ducked his head, putting himself where he could see Khyffen's face. "You had no idea, all this time. I'm sorry."

  "Not your fault. It's okay. I want to talk about her." He braced a hand against the edge of the table. "When you're ready to hear the truth, the honest truth, I'll tell you what she was like."

  "That'd be cool."

  "No." Khyffen's mouth tightened into a thin line. He looked right into Senth's eyes. "It'll be sad. But you need to know the truth."

  "Hey." One of the thieves from Senth's Fingersmithing class popped her head in the door. "You see where the prof from--" She interrupted herself with a smile aimed right at Khyffen. "Wow, didn't know you were into guys. Your boy toy's cute."

  "My what?" Senth shot to his feet. "Oh, you thought-- You thought we--" The ease of hiding inside his cloak called to him. He could shield his brother with it... No. She'd already seen them. That wouldn't work.

  His brother lowered his head and turned his face.

  Enough of this. No one messed with his family.

  The time to stop hiding from bullies was now. He could do this. He would do this.

  "You know what?" Senth crossed his arms. "Who I'm with is none of your business. The door was closed, and you didn't so much as knock."

  "Fine." She flicked her gaze across him, sneered at Khyffen. "You don't want to share? Not a problem. I'll check him out off duty."

  Off duty? How'd she-- The shackle.

  "He is never going to be on duty for you. He's a slake now, but he won't be for long."

  "You're gonna buy that piece of meat?"

  Senth slammed past the table and got right in her face.

  She stumbled back.

  His father's advice came back to him. A thief can't work in a spotlight.

  Neither could a slake.

  As much as Senth would savor her blood, no way he'd risk putting himself in prison or revealing his brother's relationship to the Man. Let her dice that out on her own.

  He bared his teeth, mimicking his father's usual see-I'm-smiling routine. "It's your lucky day. I'm gonna let you walk out of here with your throat unpierced. Unless you want me to take a taste." He slid his tongue across his fangs.

  She fled from the room.

  Dusting off his hands, Senth returned to the table.

  Khyffen was biting a knuckle, a big grin on his face. "Okay, I think the word for that is clinkers."

  Senth pumped both fists.

  Saint-Cyr swept back into the room. "Sandwiches are coming. I had them bring food for all of us. You'll feel better after you eat." As a trio of wait-droids entered, he looked up. "Ah, good. Over here's fine."

  Minutes later, Senth sat with his father and brother at a table in the corner, eating the bakery's Big Beef Sandwiches and fries. He popped a hot fry in his mouth and rocked back his chair on two legs. How to phrase this and make it seem it was his father's idea?

  "If we wanted to buy Khyffen's freedom, could we do that?"

  Khyffen halted, about to bite into his sandwich. "No way I want you doing that. I'm close to getting it myself. I've been saving every drak."

  After setting down his sandwich, Saint-Cyr dabbed a napkin across his mouth. "I've already looked into it. He has a minimum time-served clause, which means he's stuck for a few more months."

  "Seriously, both of you. I appreciate it, but I got this."

  Senth picked at his fries. "Can't you do something, Father? Call somebody?"

  "You only call me 'Father' when you want something."

  "Guys, really." Khyffen put down his food. "I can do this."

  If Senth forced this issue, how far could he go without incurring his father's wrath? The Man had already gone far past his usual tolerance, but Senth refused to let this go. He leaned forward, dropping his chair on all its legs with a satisfying click.

  "You know, Father, I was trying to be nice."

  Saint-Cyr picked up his drink. "Try it more often, Senthys."

  "Yeah? After that, nice is off the table."

  "Guys--" Khyffen held up his hands "--I appreciate it, but I don't need help."

  Saint-Cyr stood. "Khyffen, I have to leave for Tarth, so I'm going to do something I wouldn't normally do, and trust my son to take care of things."

  "What?" Face hot, Senth stood, throwing down his napkin. "You spend ten minutes a week on this planet. I take care of everything. What's this I don't trust my son?"

  "I don't want you breaking the law to get your brother's freedom."

  "Wow. Me, break the law? I'm a Level Nineteen member of the Thieves' Guild. The law means everything to me, Father." He batted his eyes.

  "Sarcasm does not become you, Son."

  Senth hissed and bared fangs. "One more way I take after you. Daddy."

  "Guys..." Khyffen pushed back his chair.

  "Khyffen, we have heard you." Saint-Cyr gathered up his plate and fed it to the recycler. "Sorry to argue in front of you. I'm afraid we're wired that way. Your brother has a temper, and it gets the best of him."

  "I do not have a temper!" Senth pointed at Saint-Cyr. "But let's talk about faults. Let's talk about how you told me this morning you couldn't meet Khyffen with me, while you were planning to meet him on your own."

  "I wanted to be sure about his motives."

  "Doesn't change the fact that you lied." Feet spread, he crossed his arms in a conscious imitation of his father. "You swore you'd never lie to me."

  Saint-Cyr pressed his lips together.

  "What's that rule, Father? Lie to marks, not family."

  His father grimaced. "You are right. I was wrong."

  The Man. Wrong. And admitting it? "Uh..." Senth lowered his hands. "You were?"

  "I lied, Son. I should have asked you to let me check him out first. I didn't trust you to realize I had your best interests at heart. I admit it. Are you happy?"

  Senth scratched one ear. "I am never happy about you being wrong." He offered his father a small smile. "Thank you."

  "Do you forgive me?"

  "Yeah, but--" He swept a hand through his hair, curled it into a fist tight with frustration. "You should trust me. When have I ever let you down?"

  Saint-Cyr rubbed the back of his neck. "Point taken, but it would be good of you not to bring up my shortcomings in front of others."

  It was Senth's turn to offer cool regard. "Khyffen is family."

  "Noted. My apologies, Khyffen." He gave the young man a bow. "I hadn't meant to imply otherwise."

  Wide-eyed, his brother put his hands together as if he were praying. "Not a problem, Mr. Saint-Cyr. I assure you."

  His father tugged at the hang of Senth's jacket. "I do not think you'd appreciate having your faults called out in front of another." He slid both hands across his shoulders. "Would you?"

  "Faults? You mean like, say"-- Senth straightened his father's jacket --"Telling someone I had a temper?"

  With a grimace, his father inclined his head. "Good point."

  "You're right. I wouldn't, and I'm sorry too."

  "Although in your case, Son, it is most definitely true."

  "It is not! I do not have a temper!"

  "Khyffen." Saint-Cyr dusted off his hands. "Expect your brother to tell you if you irk him. He cannot hold his tongue."

  "Hold my tongue?" Senth tapped himself on the chest. "You think I have a temper? What about the--" He stopped. "Oh wow. Okay, yeah, I heard it that time. So maybe I have a temper. Sometimes. But that doesn't mean I can't handle things."

  "I'll give you that, Son, but the fact is, we need a plan to get Khyffen his free
dom. Blundering about will do more harm than good. We need to work together."

  "Agreed. We need to talk."

  "Thank you." Khyffen stood. "Both of you. By the way, I prefer Khyff."

  "Nicknames lack dignity," Senth and Saint-Cyr said together.

  His father looked over at him, eyebrows raised.

  Senth jerked a thumb toward his father. "That's what he says, anyway. Count on me to call you Khyff, but my father won't. He doesn't care what you want."

  Saint-Cyr grunted. "Senthys! That is not true."

  "See what I mean? I've been bugging him to call me Senth since I was three."

  "Okay. Whatever." Khyff held up his hands. "You two are exhausting. No offense. I appreciate all your help, Mr. Saint-Cyr."

  "Glad to do it. Anyone enslaved before the age of five is freed by twenty, so Senthys has two years left as a slave. Once he finishes his contract, he can enter the Guild as a free man and move to any level he earns, human or not. But, Khyffen, unless you buy your freedom, or someone buys it for you, you have eight. Let us help you."

  "I'm aware my time in prison and parole don't count. Believe me, I've learned my lesson. I don't care what they do to me. I don't fight back any more."

  "You shouldn't have to." Once again, he and his father had spoken in tandem. Senth drew back at the same time his father did.

  The man shot him a puzzled look.

  Senth shook his head. "Look, Dad, I don't want to hold you up. If it's okay, I'll spend the day with Khyff. We have a lot to catch up on."

  "Excellent plan." Reaching across the table, Saint-Cyr offered his hand to Khyff, and after a hesitation, Khyff shook it. Once concluded, his father gave Khyff a solemn smile. "Son, I've set safeguards in motion to protect you as much as possible until you're free, but keep your head down. Don't draw attention and don't make trouble. We will get you out. You have my word."

  Khyff lit up with a smile that encompassed his entire body. "Thank you, sir." He shook hands with Saint-Cyr again. "For everything."

  His father then offered to shake hands with Senth but dragged him into a bear hug instead.

  Senth remained still. The man's warmth, the clean scent of him, took him back to childhood. Back to security and safety, something Khyff had never had. Senth returned the squeeze with all the need he'd had as a kid, beyond grateful for the opportunities he'd been given.

  Saint-Cyr released him. He cupped manicured hands around Senth's face. "I do trust you. I don't often say that, but it's true." He rubbed a soft thumb across one cheek. "I'm proud of you."

  Heat flushed Senth's face, hyper-aware of Khyff taking all this in. Did his brother sense how awkward he felt?

  "Uh..."

  Saint-Cyr turned back to the table and pushed in his chair. "Take care of things. I'll be here in the usual five days. Call me if you have a problem, but please do not make one of your own." He nodded to Khyff. At the door, he lifted a hand in farewell before exiting.

  "Wow." Khyff stood beside him. "He's not usually a hugger, is he?"

  "First time since I was a kid. Little kid."

  A look of jealousy swept across Khyff's face, but he replaced it with a non-committal shrug. "He's your dad. He loves you. I wish someone loved me that way."

  What would it have been like, sharing his father with a brother? Would Khyff have been a thief? For sure he wouldn't have spent time in jail. No one the Man trained had ever been arrested. Ever.

  Khyff backed away. "You're looking at me weird." He brought up both hands. "I don't do hugs."

  "Neither do I, Bro."

  "Bro." Khyff smiled. "Bro. Like the way that sounds. First I've been called that."

  "Best get used to it." He set a hand on Khyff's shoulder. "Bro."

  The flinch of muscle beneath his hand and the tightness on Khyff's face broke Senth's heart. "Sorry." He released him. "Trust me, Bro. I'm gonna make sure you're free. No matter what it costs. You're family. Family should be together."

  Khyff whirled away from him and pulled out a chair. He made a swipe at his eyes. "I'm starved. Let's eat this stuff."

  "Me too." Senth sat, took a bite and chewed it, making a point not to look at his brother, who was wiping his eyes again. "Dusty in here." He rubbed his own eyes.

  Khyff took a bite from a fry and turned it side to side. "These are real potatoes. When I got here, I could almost walk on the smell of them cooking, it was so rich." He drew a deep breath. "You never get anything this good where I live."

  "My dad doesn't eat synth-food. It's gotta be organic or he won't touch it. If he eats somewhere, you can bet the food is top notch."

  "Is he always like that?" He nudged his chin toward the door.

  "What, you mean overbearing, pushy, in your face, large and in charge, figuring he owns the whole empire?" He tossed up a fry and caught it in his mouth. "Every day of the worlds."

  "You think he's okay with me being with you? I don't want him to hate me. Having that man out to get you has to be the worst news ever."

  "Bro, listen. You passed whatever tests he set for you or you wouldn't be here right now, but you are never going to please him. You gotta give that up. I learned that years ago. What's easy is ticking him off. Watch this." Senth finished a fry, and after wiping his hands, pulled out his mobile. He tapped Saint-Cyr's number and put it on speaker, voice only. Miming for Khyff to be silent, he waited for Saint-Cyr to answer.

  "Senthys. You have a problem already. That was fast."

  "No. No problem, Pops."

  "Senthys! We have discussed this. Do not call me 'Pops.'"

  "Sure thing, Daddy." Senth grinned at Khyff. "So Khyff and I were wondering..."

  Khyff gestured frantically for Senth to stop.

  Senth ignored him. "Can we borrow the hoversine?" Laughing, Senth hung up. He tucked the mobile into a pocket and leaned back. "That's how you handle the Man."

  Khyff stared.

  "Oh, come on. That was too clinkers." The hair on the back of Senth's neck stood on end. Why was Khyff looking past him? He swallowed, and then turned.

  Saint-Cyr stood in the doorway, mobile in hand. He tucked it into a pocket. "No, you may not borrow the hoversine." He picked up the cloak he'd left on a chair. "Forgot this." He draped it over his arm and turned toward the door, but then halted and turned back. "I changed my mind." He approached their table. "You may use the hoversine. My sons should travel in style."

  "Thanks, Dad. Um, sorry about..."

  His father tilted back his head and gave Senth a long, appraising look. Apparently satisfied, he shifted the coat to his other arm and gave a slight nod. "After James takes me to the starport, he'll take you anywhere you like. Even, say... Planet Fun?"

  Senth gulped. "Uh..."

  His father laughed. "Enjoy yourself."

  "Yes, sir." Senth offered a fist bump, which Saint-Cyr appraised with the same cool detachment. How long was the guy going to let him hang there?

  He bumped back but held Senth's gaze. "Remember the protocols. Behave yourself in public."

  "You don't know who's watching." He stuck his hands in his pockets. "I remember, Dad."

  "Here." Saint-Cyr pulled off a debit bracelet. "Have a good time."

  "Clinkers!" He took it. "Thanks!"

  "Believe me, you earned this money."

  "Thank you, Mr. Saint-Cyr." Khyff offered his hand.

  Saint-Cyr shook it. He set a hand on Senth's shoulder, gave him a squeeze, and then left.

  Khyff sat back down. "That could have been awkward."

  "Could? Serious understatement, Bro."

  "How much is on that?" Khyff nodded toward the bracelet.

  Sitting, Senth tapped the tiny screen on one end. He pulled it up closer and chuckled. "So that's why he hugged me. Figures. He planned to 'forget' his cloak."

  "I don't get it."

  "People will tell you every day not to screw with the Man." Senth gestured with the bracelet. "This is why." He flipped the device into the air and caught it. "He reminded me who's t
he top thief."

  "Sorry, but I don't follow."

  "He wasn't kidding when he said I earned this money. This isn't his bracelet." Senth slipped it onto his wrist and fastened it. "He gave me back my own."

  The End -- or is it?

  (Don't forget to scroll down and take a look at the brothers!)

  A note from the author

  Thank you for reading!

  Senth, Khyff, Luc and the Empress return

  in At the Mercy of Her Pleasure (Senth's story) and For Women Only (Khyff's story).

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  or posting a short review. Word of mouth is an author's best friend.

  I appreciate your help sharing my story world.

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  www.kayelleallen.com

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  About the Author

  Kayelle Allen writes Sci Fi Romance with misbehaving robots, mythic heroes, role playing immortal gamers, and warriors who purr. She's a US Navy veteran who's been married so long she's tenured. Kayelle manages the Romance Lives Forever book blog, where you can find new authors and new books every day, and she's the author of multiple books, novellas, and short stories.

  Contacting Kayelle

  Have a question? Want to know about something or someone left out of the book? Found an error? You can reach Kayelle Allen via email at author@kayelleallen.com