The Sinclair Heir

by Scott, Eliot

  My stomach has dropped, and my own tears now threaten at the edges of my eyes as I look at Grady’s shocked and pain-filled eyes. I imagine him how he looked—acted—back in high school. He’d always been so angry and hateful. Endlessly cruel. But I also remember the big ‘car-accident’ reports that were in our newspaper. On our local TV station, too. How the town had gossiped about it—how everyone, even his own father, had said it was such a terrible tragedy that his dear boy was robbed of his natural talent. I also remember exactly when Grady had gone through that surgery. I suppose Grady’s father had made him go sit on the bench for the rest of the entire season, because that’s where he’d been. The injured kid, cheering his team on from the sidelines. Each game must have broken his soul, and Michael Sinclair must have loved watching every minute of it.

  Poor Grady…following his father’s orders…hating me, hating Alex…hating his whole life…

  “I’m sorry Grady.” I blurt out. “I didn’t know,” I whisper after the silence between us has stretched too long. I suppose, despite what he’s done to me, past and present, I am truly sorry for the life he was forced to live. And though the next words fall more slowly out of my mouth and are difficult to form, I find they aren’t impossible. “I’m angry at you still. Very. And I will be for a long, long time.” I pull in a shaking breath. “But for Alex, and for my own healing…and for yours,” I shudder, wondering if any of us ever will be truly healed, “I will try—I mean—I do—I do forgive you.”

  A few tears sneak out and trail down my cheeks for him, for Alex, for me. For my father and mother, too.

  Grady, as though he can’t even believe what I’ve just said to him, shakes his head and rips his eyes away from mine. I register a look that says either he doesn’t believe me or, maybe, he doesn’t think he deserves the words I’ve said.

  “We were all just trying to survive,” Alex chokes out, finally able to speak again. He places an arm around me and squeezes my shoulder, whispering a fast and quiet, “thank you” into my ear before adding, “When your Father died, and I was helpless to do anything but shout my promises to him about how I’d be there for you, at the same time, Grady was already home with Father. He was getting another massive beating for taking too long to pick me up after school. Even though Grady had done everything right and we were exactly on schedule as ordered, Grady got beat so badly he had to miss a couple days of school. Father was endlessly doing that shit to him, making Grady hate me and blame me for these beatings.”

  I shake my head, once again trying to walk in Grady’s fucked-up shoes. I’d processed the new details of my father’s murder when Alex came clean to me, and even though I know the facts about how he died—and even though my own mother told me that she was very sure Mr. Sinclair murdered my father long before Alex admitted his part in it—having to look at the entire scenario from Grady’s point of view rips open all of the old wounds in an unexpected, raw and horrible way.

  “How could someone do this their own children?” I shake my head, feeling a new flood of pain. This new perspective makes me momentarily, irrationally and incorrectly angry at Alex in a way I’ve never felt.

  It makes the old questions I never asked Alex come burning up inside my chest. Why didn’t Alex try harder? Why didn’t he just let Grady shoot him with that gun instead of participating in his Father’s horrible ‘orders’ how he did? I know I’d rather die than kill someone as good and as nice as my father. How could he just sit back and watch it all unfold, watch my father sink and suffocate in the grain like that? Why? How could he love me and also keep these huge secrets from me year after year?

  My anger dissipates as quickly as it comes while I watch the two brothers meet gazes.

  They’d suffered so much.

  Their tortured expressions seem to war with each other. Alex’s is all about the future full of possible openness and hope. Grady’s is locked in the past—still dark and wounded. I watch both expressions crumble as they seem to be remembering and questioning their own endless tirade of why along with mine.

  All these years, it’s been about survival. As for Alex, I at least have the answer to my questions. It’s been about keeping me alive. He did what he did—good and bad, right and so wrong—to keep me breathing.

  “After Mr. Wallace died, I became a good Sinclair. And I was. Wasn’t I, Grady?” Alex’s voice is a whisper. “We both became very good. Better than ever. I never bothered you again. Never got you in trouble again. Was never resistant to any new orders, not once I knew how much it hurt you if I balked.”

  Alex’s body is shaking hard, but he doesn’t cry. His eyes stay focused on Grady, who nods his answer. Any new light that was flickering there suddenly goes back to flat. Dead. Grady’s got his mask back on tight, and his expression reminds me way too much of their father’s.

  He picks up the deed to the lake. “But you signed this paper.” His voice crackles. “You kept this secret from me and Father—so you weren’t being good, you were…cheating.”

  “It was my one rebellion, Grady. Like yours.” Alex shrugs while he takes the document from Grady. His fingers smooth the edges of the crumpled paper, and then pause where my signature is written—where I know Alex perfectly forged my signature. “This deed saved me. I could only be a part of Father’s feud because I knew that deep down Jojo had been gifted half of what I loved the most. The lake. It was stupid, and yes, it was dangerous. But it’s what saved my soul. I needed one good thing in the middle of all of the bad. Please understand.”

  Grady pushes away from his desk and starts pacing the room, running his hands through his thick hair. “You know he’d kill you right here and kill you now if he could hear the shit falling out of your mouth? He’d peel the skin off of your body and smile while you screamed. You know that, right?”

  “Oh, I know.” Alex barks out another heavy, bitter laugh. “Let’s be real, bro. Father would have made you peel the skin off my body. Made you clean up the mess it would make, and he’d not smile—he’d laugh in both of our faces the whole time.”

  “Fuck. Touché.” Grady shudders at that, a sad, desolate smile curves on his lips, because Alex’s portrayal is dead on. “Where was this original deed kept this whole time?” Grady whispers.

  “I stashed it in the lining of my school backpack. Sewed it inside, and kept it there until I pulled it out to come here. Jojo and I will sign it over to you along with everything else.”

  He turns to me, eyes pleading. “I should have told you about this gift long ago—at least when you showed up in town for the funeral—and for sure I should have told you after our wedding, but for some reason I was afraid to, Jojo.”

  “You’re actually fucking married.” Grady’s eyes go distant. “And you had a…a wedding? What the fuck?”

  “Did you expect anything else?” Alex takes up my left hand and holds it up so he can show the rings. “We filed officially with the city online yesterday. She’s now Jojo Wallace-Sinclair, and I’m Alex Wallace-Sincliar. A new family name. United.”

  “Holy…fuck. What have you done? Does Mother know?”

  Alex and I both grimace and I answer. “May does know now.”

  Alex crosses his arms, agreeing with me. “I figured Mother would tell you soon enough. I wanted it kept secret until we were sure of our plans to leave here. And like I told you on the phone, we’re going away together tomorrow and we won’t come back. But in case no one told you this, I will. We—Jojo and I—we also have a daughter. You have a niece. She’s almost six years old.”

  Grady leaps away from his desk, shouting, “A kid? A Wallace-Sinclair kid? No fucking way! No wonder! No wonder shit had to go so damn crazy! No wonder you’re signing it all over to me without even a blink. Fuck! Alex.” His eyes sweep wildly to me, processing. “Do you understand how dangerous it is, how it’s a miracle the kid’s lived to breathe in and out all of these years? Holy shit. You two—had a daughter. Forget the secret about the lake. Father…shit…he …he…”


  “He’s dead, Grady,” Alex says softly. “You don’t have to think about what he would have thought or done. He didn’t know and he’s gone now. Please. You have to let him go.” Alex lowers his voice and glances at me.

  Grady’s words have made my stomach hurt, because he’s right. It is a miracle Mr. Sinclair never found out about Emily. After what I’ve heard today, it’s a miracle she was even born, that they didn’t kill me, too.

  “Our daughter,” Alex continues steadily. “She is why we are leaving. She is the reason I won’t even flinch when I sign this deed over to you giving you the lake and the house. It’s because she’s got big brown eyes just like Mother’s and because she’s got our same fighting spirit. And it’s because I trust that you must want this feud to end how I do. I trust that you won’t come after us or hurt an innocent little girl who just might have a hint of a smile that looks like yours. Make me this promise. Be the end of this, Grady. Please. Let us go easily. You get to win—you win it all.”

  “It won’t be me coming after you.” Grady shakes his head and swallows, all of the fight going out of him so suddenly it surprises both of us. Grady’s face is colorless, and his resigned sigh seeps out like a surrender. “I can make that promise to you. It won’t ever be me.”

  “Thank you.” Alex sits back, his face visibly relaxing.

  I wipe away a new round of tears as I, too, become filled with relief at Grady’s promise because it seemed so sincere. I suddenly understand how Alex went all the way to hell and back to protect me, because I’m doing it right now just to protect Emily.

  Alex hands me a pen, and my vision is so blurred I can hardly write straight on the line Alex is pointing at on the deed.

  A few minutes later, all documents have been signed and emailed to the attorneys by e-signatures. The only one with handwritten signatures is the old deed, which we scan and upload into digital format to be filed for the State of Washington’s website and all of the Sinclair attorneys.

  With the impossible seemingly behind us, Alex looks content. He’s free. I bury any shreds of hatred or darkness I had left for Grady. I acknowledge they may never be gone completely, but my feelings about him are now covered with a vacuum of sheer relief as well as coated with such deep sadness about the abuse he and Alex had endured at the hands of their father.

  As Alex tours Grady through the apartment, their banter becomes so natural and light that I can almost imagine Alex’s dream of some sort of future relationship as true brothers becoming real one day.

  In the bedroom, Grady opens Alex’s closet with a flourish, exclaiming over how nice it is inside the walk-in. And as they go through the things inside, Alex points out everything from how to use the safe to saying that his brother should try on his cashmere robe.

  “Dude. I’ve never even worn it. Hell, never worn most of this stuff. It’s new, and it’s all yours. We’re taking only what we can fit in our car.”

  “Nice that we’re the same size, would be a shame to waste this stuff.” Grady smirks as he slips the robe over his entire outfit. It’s actually a little tight on him, but we go along with his fantasy.

  As we return to the living room, Alex generously pours Grady a scotch on the rocks and shows him how to operate the integrated bar and entertainment center controls as well as the door locks and program that will let him change the entrance and elevator codes to lock us out whenever he’s ready.

  “I’m going to sleep over here tonight. Why the hell not. My new place,” Grady announces, stretching his arms wide and looking around the dream bachelor pad.

  Alex nods. “You should. It’s late and the sheets are clean. The maids came today. Oh, which reminds me. Don’t forget to pay them, because I’m going to be too broke to carry your cleaning services now.”

  Grady’s grin falls off of his face as he realizes in that thick head of his just how much Alex has handed over to him.

  “Dude. I can—I mean—if you need—”

  “No.” Alex cuts him off fast, but gently. “It’s fine. We’re all good. I don’t want any of it. I don’t need it.”

  Grady nods then flushes, perhaps feeling guilty about this for the very first time. I also wonder if we just witnessed Alex’s brother growing tiny bits of an actual heart.

  I avoid both of their gazes as Alex picks up my hand and pulls me to the elevator that will take us back down to our car.

  “We’ll be out of your lake house by tomorrow night. Whatever code you change this building too will also change the door codes over there. It’s all integrated, and again anything that’s left behind in that home is also yours to enjoy. And, Grady? Thank you. Thank you for letting me go like this. Truly. Thank you.”

  I lock eyes with him and nod my thanks, because tears have again flooded my throat, robbing me of speech.

  As the elevator slides closed, Grady nods to us both, but he never says another word.

  17.

  Alex, Present Day.

  As I drove Jojo back to the lake, my heart felt lighter. I also felt happier. I was so free and all-powerful feeling that I thought I might suddenly be able to fly this SUV instead of just drive it out of here tomorrow. Jojo has been so quiet, typing into her phone off and on the entire way, that I haven’t been able to tell if she is feeling happy, angry, or sad. But I don’t press her because my guess is she’s feeling all three. I know she’s been remembering, and processing, just how I’ve been doing.

  Finally, as we hit the crossroad that takes us to the fork that leads to our house one way or onto the overgrown road that would have taken us to my father’s old hunting lodge, I slow the car and break into the silence. “Do we go get Emily and Shelly?”

  “What? Oh, no. I’m sorry. I thought I’d said my thoughts out loud to you while I was texting them.”

  I shake my head, stopping the car. “You didn’t.”

  “Shelly and Walt put Emily to bed, and they’re settled in for the night. I told Aunt Shelly about the lake—and the deed. I asked her if it would be okay if you and I could say goodbye to the lake tonight…alone.”

  She sighs this weighted breath, so I take up her hand and give it a squeeze.

  “I want to…” Her voice grows low and hoarse and at first I think it’s tears about to flood in, but when she looks up at me, her gaze is so sweet and so heated my heart skips. “I want to swim with you one last time, and kiss warm cookies off your lips and body.” She grins. “I want to make love to you out there on our rock.” She laughs shyly before going on. “I want to say goodbye to it all—just you and me with the lake water on us, around us. What do you say?”

  “Sounds perfect,” I answer, letting her hand go. I’m already feeling blood rush into my cock as my foot hits the gas pedal, taking us straight up into the drive that leads to the lake house.

  We start kissing before we’re even through the garage door that leads us into the kitchen. I’ve got her shirt off by the dining area. She has my shirt off soon after, and I kick out of my shoes and pants somewhere in the middle of the living room. By the time we’re heading out onto the deck, and onto the rock, she and I are naked, smiling and burning with need. We dive into the lake, the cool water slowing our desire as we splash and laugh with each other under the stars, pulling long strokes through the water but never drifting far apart.

  Jojo turns, wading in the deep. She smirks at me just before she sets off fast, laughing because she knows I’m chasing her. When I catch her, I pull her in close, loving how my cock throbs heavy and ready against her bare ass. “Not so fast.” I laugh with her, turning her slick, wet body to face me.

  She gives up the fight and ducks in for a kiss while wrapping her arms around my neck and pressing her breasts—her tight, hard nipples—up into my chest. Her lips slant, half smiling and all desire as her tongue finds mine and mine hers. We both melt into each other. The kiss grows so deep we start to lose strength in our legs and our backs, and my cock is probing her, seeking entry into her even while we’re standing in neck-deep water.
She grabs it, ready to guide it the rest of the way. “Wait…no…”

  “No?” She still has her hands on me. Her eyes are dark with desire as her palms squeeze all around me, those deft fingers of hers, teasing my tip, making me jerk. She licks her lips and grins.

  “I’ll come in two seconds if you aren’t careful.” I admonish her, peeling her hands off of me while I pause to lean down and take my revenge on her by sucking on one of those perfect tips. The feel of my mouth on her breast makes her shiver and gasp. I nearly lose it again as she leans her head so far back her hair dips into the water. She asks me in a sexy whisper to “do that to the other one.”

  When I’m finished with her request, she’s limp, compliant and so hot I grow impatient. I scoop her up into my arms and walk with her back to the rock. “I want you on the rock, on your back with the stars reflecting down in your eyes. And I want to go slowly, and I want us both to nearly die in each other’s arms here tonight…beginning with you.”

  “Oh…I love it when you begin with me…” She moves her lips up and captures mine in a biting, hungry kiss. When she’s done, I lift her up and lay her back gently on the flattest, smoothest part of the rock, leaving her legs dangling off the sides, spread wide in front of me.

  The sloping angle of the rock makes it easy for me to access all that I want, and while I’m looking up at her, I remember all of the times we did this here in the past. I smile and lick the inside of her thigh, bringing fingers close and rubbing her just how she likes it while my head and my tongue inch closer in, loving how she moans. She anticipates where I’m going to go next, squirming her hips up toward my mouth. Her hands bury in my hair and pull me lower between her legs.

  “So bossy…so pushy…” I whisper my heat and touch my smile against her soft, pink skin. “Patience, love. Patience,” I say before I begin working my tongue against her and into her.

  She writhes against me, and pushes my head down harder with her hands. “I want to feel you come,” I whisper against her, but she surprises me by pulling my head away.