by Jackson Kane
“Dad.” Lucas pushed himself off the wall. “I know I didn't turn out exactly how you wanted, but what you're asking is... It's fucking crazy.”
I shot Lucas a sour look. He was our father not a construction worker at the dive bars he's used to playing at. “What he means is leaving all of this up to chance isn't wise. There are so many things that could go wrong. This is a lot of money we're talking about.”
“Five point two billion dollars to be exact,” Dad said, as if the number was more of a burden than a blessing. It gave me pause. “Boys, I'm dying and the only way this family survives is through children.
When you really boiled it down, money just meant options. How could billions of options ever be a bad thing?
“I don't like talking about this, but let's get it all out on the table,” Lucas said. “What happened to the will you had while Mom was alive? Fifty-fifty split between your surviving heirs. That was fair.”
“Fair?” What did Lucas know about fair? I was the one that went on to college, then grad school. I worked my ass off to continue and grow the King legacy. “Where have you been these last ten years? In no universe is getting high and plucking your guitar worth two billion dollars.”
“You know what happened, Dick,” Lucas growled. “I had to leave.”
“Yes, I know why you left,” I turned to give Lucas my undivided attention. I hated that damn nickname. He matched me with a scowl. Lucas leaving when he did was the only responsible and selfless thing he’d ever done. That didn’t give him a free pass to act like an asshole the rest of his life. “But tell me again why you never came back?”
“You—” Lucas stepped toward me, his hands balled into fists.
“Boys,” Dad interrupted.
“Now don't get me wrong.” I continued anyway. This was a long time coming. If we were putting everything on the table, then this needed to be addressed as well. “I think Lucas is entitled to something, but half was always insane. We should use this time to consider a percentage more in line with his contribution to the King brand.”
Which was zero, but I was willing to let him have something.
“Richard...” Dad said weakly.
“Dad, you've built an empire on rational, methodical decision making—”
“And that time has passed.” Dad rapped his wedding ring against the glass window. The sharp sound split the air with authority.
I went silent and patiently waited for him to continue. I had a tendency toward over-talking when I had a point to make, but that was because I was practically raised in a board room.
He turned back to us with a half smile, then touched something on the door frame and the glass door beside it opened effortlessly. “Walk with me. It's too nice a day to spend cooped up inside the house.”
It was too much money to be discussing with such an informal air. We were talking about billions of dollars. And what happened if he died before either of us got a woman pregnant? This was all such a bad idea. Lucas and I gave each other a wary look, then followed to either side of him. This might've been the only time we ever saw eye-to-eye on anything.
The back patio was antique blue marble that abutted an invisible edge swimming pool. It wasn't all that wide, but ran the length of the house. Beyond that was all of Caldwell Hope. It was probably the most expansive and gorgeous view in all of Colorado.
It was amazing that as beautiful as this valley was, you only truly appreciated it when you didn't see it every day. We truly were spoiled kids...
“What's the difference between two billion dollars and five billion dollars?” Dad asked, walking over the short bridge that went over the pool. There was a small sitting area just on the other side that brought us to the end of the estate and the valley's edge.
“I don't know, Dad. The GDP gap between Greece and Kazakhstan?”
Lucas snorted behind me, incredulously. He tossed a pebble down the cliff that began a few dozen feet away. “Christ... he's obviously gearing up for a metaphor, Dick. Keep up.”
“As always you're both so right in all the wrong ways.” Dad smiled, then sat down on the stone bench. “There is no difference. It's just a number. A man can't spend that money in one or even several lifetimes.
“When numbers control your life it's easy to lose perspective and in the end you wonder if it was all worth the cost.”
“C'mon, Dad, you've done great things. Look.” Lucas pointed down the valley at the bustling main drag of downtown. “I've seen pictures of this place in the fifties from before you moved here.
“The place was a shit hole; a dying mining town. Now look at it. Tourism, industry, expansion, and urban development; it’s all thriving. You've literally breathed life into Caldwell Hope!”
“I originally came to here to meet with yet another potential investor. It was the first assignment my father ever gave me. 'To be your own man,' he told me, 'you have to able to make something out of nothing.'
“It was supposed to be the first step in building my own branch of King Industries.” Dad squinted, but we were too far away to make out the individual building's signs.
I'd heard this story before. It was what he told me when he sent me out into the world after I finished college.
“Long story short, no matter what I tried the guy wasn't interested. I failed. I'd have left town and gone back East that very day if I hadn't met your mom. Maggie was my waitress. She wore this blue-dotted apron.” Dad smiled warmly remembering the way his wife looked when they met. “Here I was, looking miserable and she brought me an ice cream sundae on the house.”
This part I hadn't heard... It struck me that I never knew how my parents met. That seemed like something every child should intrinsically know.
“I didn't know you met Mom in a restaurant,” I said.
“Yup, it was Cindy's Diner at the corner of Main and Marshall Long Avenue. It's long gone.”
“It's a place called Black Rocket Records now.” I chuckled quietly to myself in disbelief, thinking of the pretty and rude barista I'd met there this morning. I think Mom would’ve liked her, actually.
“We hit it off and I decided to stay for a little while. She helped me through a real low point in my life. I was fresh out of college with almost two dozen failed attempts at finding investors already under my belt. It would've been impressive if it wasn't so damn disappointing.” Dad wore a soft, light expression, finding the levity in even bad times.
“Your mother was the most incredible person I’d ever met. She loved good people and good books. She lived her whole life in this small town. She never went to college, but she was such a smart cookie and she loved children. That's why she spoiled you so damn much.” Dad bent forward and lightly slapped our thighs.
“Anyways… I was about to abandon the idea of being an entrepreneur altogether, and go back to my father with my tail between my legs and beg for a job. Maggie talked me out of it. When I told her what happened with the investor and my track record thus far she said something I'll never forget.
“She said, 'So what?'”
He let that linger for a moment before continuing.
“It didn't matter that I failed. It wasn't the first or even the hundredth failure that mattered. It was the last failure that mattered; the one that stopped you from trying again.”
“I get that.” I crossed my arms, swishing the statement around my mind like a fine wine. “Never give up, keep trying until you—”
“No you don't.” Dad put a hand on my shoulder. “Sometimes victory itself is a form of failure. You're too much like me to really understand.”
OK, now I was confused. The man was a self made billionaire and philanthropist, how could being like him be a bad thing?
Lucas was strangely quiet. Did he actually know what Dad was talking about?
Sometimes it frustrated me that everything came so easy to Lucas. I had to pour my blood, sweat and tears into all that I’d achieved. Lucas was just naturally talented and floated through life like a breez
e.
“The reason I've never told you that story before was because I was always too busy with work. I was too busy winning to see what I’d lost. Even after the empire was created there was always more work to do, always more reasons not to enjoy what I already had. I might've never failed my business, but I certainly failed my family.
“Your mother especially…”
Mom cheated on him once when he was too busy to make time for her. It had been a dark moment in our family. The King family dealt with the quiet repercussions of that affair for years. In some ways we were still dealing with it.
“I won't do that again,” Dad said, somberly.
He was speaking of her spirit and how he would honor it. That part I got. The rest though… How do you get defeated by constantly winning?
“You're right,” I said. “I don't understand.”
Dad sighed and stood up. “I've given this a great deal of thought. My decision is final and legally binding. I want a grandchild.”
There was a long silence as he let that last statement sink in. All of this was so he could get a grandson or granddaughter?
“There are a few rules,” he said. “No bribes in any capacity. You can't give a woman any money or incentives to do anything she normally wouldn't do.”
“No paying for sex, Dick.” Lucas stabbed the words at me like a knife between the ribs.
“Oh, please.” As if I would ever have to resort to that. Dad held up a hand to end our bickering.
“This town has some of the finest people in the world. You’ll never find a better woman from anywhere else. The last stipulation is that my future grandchild's mother has to be from Caldwell Hope. Just like your mother was...” Dad looked us over one final time, then walked back into the house leaving Lucas and I on the bench overlooking the valley.
“There really was no way we were changing his mind on this,” I said more to myself than to Lucas.
I had to father a child.
“Fucking crazy...” Lucas said in the same distant manner. He was still processing the information as well.
Years of problem solving clicked on like a light bulb. My brain started breaking down the challenges, organizing them, developing little plans to overcome each obstacle. Success was just a numbers game; trial and error. Exposure to the people and the area was my first hurdle. I’d been gone for so long. How was I going to meet a lot of eligible women in the shortest amount of time possible?
How could I get the most bangs for my buck?
Then it dawned on me.
Lucas looked over at me, apparently seeing that there was a big idea written on my face. “What are you going to do?”
What was I going to do?
I looked him dead in the eyes and said, “I'm going to win.”
Chapter 5
Lucas
“Are you the Lucky Luke?” A young blonde sidled up to me at the bar.
I fucking hated that stage name.
And after what happened with Molly a week ago I certainly wasn't feeling all that lucky.
I had just started my night drinking in this hole-in-the-wall dive bar attached to a crappy motel on the outskirts of town. Only regulars, truckers and those lost physically or mentally ever came here. I didn't think it even had a proper name.
I thought for sure I'd be able to drink in peace here.
“Nope.” I gulped down the last of the beer I’d been nursing for the past half hour and slid a hundred under my glass for the bartender. Her comment made this one more drinking spot where I couldn’t relax and be, so I got up and left the building. I wasn't even buzzed yet and I was already running out of shady bars to drink at.
How else was I going to dull the thoughts that circled through my mind like vultures picking at a fresh kill. Soon I'd be stuck inside my hotel room drinking.
How pathetic was that?
I walked over to my bike, sat on the seat and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the breast pocket of my half-buttoned, black, linen shirt. Every time I sparked up I reminded myself how terrible the habit it was. I wanted to quit, but never really had any reason to.
Considering what some of my other band mates were hooked on, I'd say I got off easy.
Knock a girl up or lose my inheritance. That was fucking insane!
I couldn’t shake the conversation we had earlier. It had been on my mind almost as much as thoughts of how bad I fucked up with Molly.
I loved my Dad, but he must be losing his mind. I can't just slam a baby into some girl and be done with it. For all his faults, I didn’t think Richard couldn't either.
But what the fuck did I know?
Yeah, I slept around a lot when I was young, stupid and wrapped up in the rock and roll lifestyle, but I always used protection. Always. It wasn't just to keep my cock clean, but also so I wouldn't get a girl pregnant.
I actually loved kids; I just wasn’t ready to be a father yet.
I knew myself better than to think I could raise one alone. They were a big deal! That's one of the things that made a guy into a man. The other was finding and protecting the woman you loved.
And just like that I started thinking of Molly for the hundredth time today. I had a lot to atone for in our past; regardless of how much of it started out as my fault. The fact of the matter was that I wasn't there when she needed me, and that eats me alive every damn day.
After all this time I come back home only to fuck up with her again! Money, fame, the satisfaction of beating Richard out of his inheritance... I'd give it all for one more chance to do right by Molly.
I sucked in one last lungful of smoke, crushed the cigarette—still burning ember and all—in my fist, then started my bike. “Let’s see what the next town has for bars.”
I'd barely left the parking lot when I heard shouting. Fame had trained me to never turn around for shouts, it was just an opening for photographers to catch you in the worst light imaginable.
My band mates never let me live down the tabloid cover photo that caught me looking up, mid bite of shawarma with a headline that said something like, “Lucky Luke an Alien? Finally the Proof!”
It was pretty funny. They framed it and kept it in the studio while we recorded our last album together. God, that was years ago now...
No wonder, I thought, pulling out on to the main road. The shouts were coming from the parking lot of an MC clubhouse. If nothing else, bikers knew how to make noise.
I tried not to look; it was none of my business. Having a bike of my own was where our commonalities ended. But then I saw something that couldn't be ignored. The sun had only recently gone down, but exterior lights had already kicked on allowing me to see the couple arguing in the parking lot.
I saw him—this tall, bearded, monster in a sleeveless leather vest—slap a woman to the ground and instinct took over.
In that moment he could've been fifty feet tall and I still would've rushed him. I didn't care. You don't hit women.
Period.
The road was empty enough for me to stop where I was, put the kickstand down and run toward them. I was no hero; I never went looking for trouble like this, but some things I just couldn't ignore. Mix that with an impulsive nature to begin with and well... I made the news a lot.
Getting close, I jumped at the biker right as he turned to face me. One heavy right-cross was all it took. He fell straight and slow like a large maple tree that had just been chopped down.
The knuckles in my right hand ached. Fuck, that sonofabitch had a hard head.
“Are you alright, Miss?” I dropped to a knee and wrapped my good arm around the brunette to help her up.
“I think so,” she said, picking up her glasses and letting me guide her to her feet.
Something on her wrist twinkled in the shitty parking lot light. A small, faded metal, heart pendant hung from her bracelet. My own heart skipped a beat and my breathing stopped being automatic.
“Molly?” I said in disbelief.
I gave her that for her seventee
nth birthday. They were part of a matching set, and had the word forever inscribed on the back. I swallowed hard to avoid choking on my own tongue. She was still wearing it...
Did that mean she still cared about me?
“Luke?!” She said in hushed shout, then glanced around the parking lot. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing. The hell are you doing at a biker clubhouse? Are you out of your mind? And who the fuck is this prick?”
“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.” Molly panicked. “Do you have any idea what you just did?!”
“Not nearly enough.” A renewed rage washed over me when I looked down at the unconscious behemoth. Slapping a woman was bad enough, but hitting MY woman… made me want to stomp his head in with my boots until my legs got tired.
How dare he touch her?
“That was the Black Chains sergeant at arms.” Molly began to push back toward my bike. “You need to get out of here right now!”
“How bad could a biker gang based out of sleepy little Caldwell Hope be?”
Molly lifted the back of the bikers vest revealing a holstered pistol on the small of his back, then she flashed me a hard look and said, “Bad enough.”
She jolted away as the biker began to stir. He'd be awake soon.
“Please go, Luke.” Her eyes pleaded with me. She was worried for my safety. She said she had moved on, but that wasn't the look you gave to someone you didn't care about.
She hadn’t moved on. She still cared about me.
“I can't.” My hand touched her cheek; it was red and hot from where he slapped her. I drew my lips in a tight line and looked at her firmly, unshakably. “Not without you.”
A dangerous cocktail of emotions and panic flashed in her beautiful brown eyes. I wish I knew what was going on inside her head. There were so many things I wanted to tell her, but this wasn't the time or place for that.
She was right, soon other armed men would be on us. I only had the time to tell her one thing and I didn't even need words to say it.
I won't ever leave you again.
