Father showed Missy how to kill our mother.
Mom had created this amazing life for him, and he threw it away for a piece of ass.
I’m going to be sick.
My elbows dig into my thighs, which are spread wide as I hang my head between them. The room is filled with an eerie silence as Jalynn plays more audio files from her flash drive. She copied the contents of Missy’s computer and brought it back to us.
I glance up to catch a peek of Austin and Bryce when she shows them the photos and home movies on Bryce’s home computer. I hear them discussing the dates. Missy was young. Really fucking young.
Bryce’s hand is on his hip, his head is down as he pinches the bridge of his nose. Austin starts pacing, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s going to wear it down.
Harper comes over and rubs my head. “You’re sweating.”
Bryce is immediately at my side, his hands on my back. “Take deep breaths, Tanner. Try to relax. It’s going to be okay.”
Austin rushes over and stops a few feet away from me. “Should I call a doctor?”
“I’m fine!” I yell adamantly.
Bryce leans away from me with his hand up. Harper is looking at the three of us in utter confusion.
I explain, “I had a breakdown after our mom died. I was in the hospital while these guys prayed over me. I was a kid then, but I’m a man now. I can handle this.”
Austin runs his fingers through his wavy hair. “This situation is so fucked up. No one would blame you if you couldn’t.”
I give him a lopsided smile. “How are you?”
Austin is a notorious runner. Instead of dealing with shit, he submerses himself in his vice of choice—women, liquor, or racing.
He swallows hard. “Been better, little bro.”
Jalynn takes the flash drive out and tosses it to me when I motion that I want it. This tiny device holds the master plans of my mom’s murder. I can’t decide if I want to curl up in a ball and cry for my mom or go out and beat the living shit out of my father.
“We need to confront him.” Bryce states.
“I’ll kill him,” Austin says.
Jalynn walks over to him and rubs her hands over his arms. She doesn’t say a word, but when she entangles her fingers with his, he lets out a huge breath.
“Why confront him at all? We can take this to the police and let them deal with it,” Tessa offers, having just come back from the kitchen with a bottle of scotch and three glasses.
“Not until he deals with us. He needs to look us all in the eye when we tell him we know. Then, we go to the cops,” Bryce states. He’s still wearing his tuxedo, as are me and Austin, whose tie is undone.
“Then, let’s go.” I stand up, taking my jacket off and throwing it on the couch. “There’s no time like the present.”
We head toward the door, but Harper holds us back. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. You’re emotional right now. There’s no knowing what you’ll do.”
“I second that. Austin, you’ll land yourself right in prison.” Jalynn agrees.
“You know what happens if you go to jail,” Tessa adds. Harper looks at her in confusion. “Their mother’s will stipulates that, if any of them are convicted of a crime, they forfeit their shares to their father. They’ve already tried to get Austin arrested for street racing and Bryce for sexual harassment.”
Harper’s eyes pop out of their sockets.
Bryce is quick to defend himself. “It was a setup. I didn’t force myself on anyone. Missy plays dirty.”
She looks at me with a plea. “That’s just another reason why you going to your father tonight is a terrible idea.”
My sweet Harper. The woman I chose to spend the rest of my life with. She’s looking at me with love and concern. She’s been a Sexton for only a moment, and I have dragged her into the thick of the abyss that is my family drama. There’s desperation in her eyes and only one way to make it go away.
Austin and Bryce are given the same look. The women we love each try to hold us back from doing something rash.
Problem is, we’ve waited eight years to avenge our mother’s death.
We can’t wait another day.
Austin, Bryce, and I share fierce determination. Brother to brother, we share a look. A conversation of nods and clenched jaws, flared nostrils, and puffed chests. Where the love of a good woman is one you cherish forever, you can’t undermine the love of a brother.
Harper softly kisses me in understanding. She knows my mind is made up as I place the drive in my pocket.
With the three of us still dressed in tuxedos, we kiss our women and head out to confront the man who took our mom away from us.
We don’t speak a word on the elevator ride down. The car ride to the house is quiet. Even Bryce’s Tesla is silent. We each stew in our thoughts, our memories … our hatred.
The mansion is dark, except for a room on the first floor—Father’s office.
Austin turns to Bryce. “What about Missy?”
“She won’t be home,” I say from the backseat. “And, if she is, her room is on the opposite wing. They stopped sharing a room a few years ago.”
“She’ll run as soon as she finds out what we know. Her ass will be in France before a warrant is issued,” Austin bites.
We didn’t think about that. Who the hell knows what to do in situations as fucked up as this?
Bryce pulls out his phone and scrolls through the screen. Austin glances in my direction in the backseat, seeing if I have any clue who he’s calling. I shrug, so we both put our full attention into Bryce and that phone call.
“Chief Tatum, this is Bryce Sexton. I’m sorry to bother you so late, but I have information that you will definitely want to know, concerning the death of my mother. Can you send a patrol car to my father’s house on the corner of Pacific and Divisadero? You know which one it is, right?” There’s a pause, and Bryce nods before saying, “Thank you.”
“How in the fuck do you have the Chief of Police’s cell phone number?” Austin asks as soon as Bryce ends the call.
“I made friends when I realized I might need to save your ass at some point.” Bryce gets out of the car.
Austin chuckles to himself before opening the door and stepping out.
As we all walk up to the sixteen-thousand-square-foot mansion, I grit my teeth even harder.
They bought the place two years ago when it came up for auction after someone lost their ass in trying to renovate the historic landmark. The property is the largest in Pacific Heights, and it is a complete joke for the two of them to own an eleven-bedroom house. But, since it was the most desirable place that everyone knew about because of the history dating all the way back to 1894, Missy would stand for nothing less after they were married.
Bryce knocks on the door. No one answers. It’s late, but knowing Father, he is in his study, having a nightcap. Austin knocks again, this time loud and long.
Father answers the door, wearing his pajamas and a velvet robe. He eyes the three of us standing in his doorway.
“Where’s Missy?” Bryce asks point-blank.
“She’s not back yet,” Edward says.
Bryce steps forward with Austin, and I’m right on his heel. He heads toward the study, not saying a word.
“Could this really not wait until morning? It’s late,” Dad says, pulling up his sleeve to examine his watch.
We ignore him as we walk down the hallway lined with wood paneling and gold sconces. We walk into the study where a fire is roaring, and there’s a filled glass of amber liquid on the table. His television is on with a Dean Martin movie playing. Austin picks up the remote and turns it off.
Father closes the door and opens his arms out. “Okay. We’re here. What could be so important that you had to waltz into my home at one o’clock in the morning?”
“Have a seat,” Bryce commands.
Father doesn’t take orders. He heads toward the drink cart, opening up a glass bottle with brown
liquid swilling around in it. “Can I offer you a drink?”
“Goddamn it, I said, sit!” Bryce slams his fist on the desk, making Father jump.
He places the top back on the glass with a look of annoyance on his face and takes a seat. “What is it now, Bryce?” He points to Austin and me. “What is this hostile takeover about?”
I hold up the flash drive and throw it to him.
Dad picks it up, examining it. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
“You’re going to put it in the computer and open it,” I seethe.
“Don’t forget I’m your father, and you’re in my house. I would watch your tone, son.” He huffs before turning around and walking toward his desk to stick the drive into the side of the laptop.
The way he’s so nonchalant about things makes my skin crawl. Knowing the truth and standing next to him is making my veins boil. I’ve heard of people hating someone enough to kill. I never understood it until this second.
“This’d better be good,” he taunts.
I have to place my hand on Austin’s arm to keep him from launching forward at him.
“Open. The. Files,” Bryce says as calmly as possible.
He sighs, clicking his mouse. We can’t see what he’s looking at, but from the way he goes stone-cold still, we know he’s aware of what’s on that drive. I watch him. His finger doesn’t move the mouse, and his shoulders don’t flinch. I wonder if he’s even breathing.
“Where did you get this?” he asks.
“It was all on Missy’s computer at Sexton Media,” Bryce replies.
Father falls to the seat behind his desk. From the quick defeat in his posture, I’d say he’s seen this before.
“How long have you known that Missy kept these files?” I ask.
He looks up at me with those cold, coal-like eyes that I once loved. “Since the moment we started dating.”
“When she was sixteen,” Austin practically spits at him.
Father gives him a stern look. “You know what a vixen she was. I don’t know any man who would have said no to her.”
“I would have,” Bryce says.
Austin lurches forward but stops at the foot of the desk. “I was a horny teenager. You were an old man with a wife, three sons, and a rising empire.”
There’s a picture on his credenza. It’s a photo of the three of us boys, taken at the house in Tahoe. It feels odd here among his new life of money and marvel. I turn back to him and watch as his breaths quicken.
“How long has Missy been blackmailing you?” I ask.
He looks up at me with a despondent grin and points toward the screen. “How much of this have you seen?”
“The whole thing. Right down to you telling Missy how to kill Mom.” I have to look away. Shit. Maybe I’m not cut out for this.
Our father sits up and leans his elbows on his desk. He motions toward Austin. “My drink.”
“Fuck you,” Austin replies.
“You want the whole sordid story? Then, give me my fucking drink!” he yells.
I haven’t seen my father this shaken in years. He’s a vain man. A weak man. No one ever sees it. He wears his mock strength like a cloak over his cowardly frame.
With the utmost reluctance, Austin grabs the drink and places it on the desk. Father lifts it and has a sip. His eyes are fixed on the liquid as he swishes it around the glass, and then he looks up to us, his three sons glaring down at him, standing in a semicircle around his desk, waiting for our answers.
“She started blackmailing me the first time I tried to break it off with her. It’d started out casual. She was in high school, for Christ’s sake. As she got older, she became more available. Needier. I called it off, and she showed up at the office with the photos and videos, threatening to press charges. I figured, what the hell? I’m already in this deep.”
His thoughts trail off as he takes another sip.
He continues, “The relationship was good. I spoiled her with fancy things, and she spoiled me by … well, you know what. The problem was, she got greedy. She wanted me to leave your mom. I told her no. Marina was my wife. We had a good marriage—”
Austin mock laughs in disgust.
Father points his finger at him. “It was good. Until it wasn’t,” he explains. Austin looks away as Father sits back in his chair and says, “Your mother was obsessed with this business. She thrived on the success and was adamant that she needed to create it for you boys. Her parents had fucked her up that way. They didn’t care about her and left her with nothing. It ruined our marriage. This company ruined us.”
“It made you.” Bryce slams a finger on the desk. “You were nothing, and she gave this to you, so you could be the great and powerful newspaper magnate Edward Sexton.”
“She didn’t give me shit. The business was in her name alone. I begged her to give me half, but she refused. When we drew up her will, she wouldn’t even leave it to me after death. Said her boys should be part of it. It was Missy’s idea to put in that clause about the arrests. She said it was my insurance policy should I ever need to keep you boys in check,” he says.
Austin speaks up, “All that bullshit about Mom wanting us to ride the straight and narrow—”
“Was bullshit,” Father states with a wave of his glass.
I do a double take. “You were planning to take the company from us before it was even ours.”
“I needed to know I had a way to keep you kids in check. Austin was always a hothead, and, Tanner, there was no way of knowing what kind of man you’d become. I wanted to make sure you didn’t squander your fortune,” he says.
“You’re the one who is trying to sell it!” A vein is popping out of Bryce’s throat.
“Missy wants to sell it. She blackmailed me into giving her the shares and is blackmailing me into selling the company. She blackmailed me into loosening those fucking bolts off that tire!”
His admission silences the room.
Father’s jaw trembles as he takes the last sip of his scotch. Liquid falls down his chin, and he doesn’t bother to wipe it off.
“You loosened the bolts on the tire?” I ask with a shaky breath.
Father looks up in fright. His widened eyes look at each of us, and then he curses before pinching his mouth tight and throwing the empty glass across the room. It shatters against a canvas painting of Missy.
“You’re an absolute piece of shit,” Austin yells.
“I didn’t want to do it.” He tries to defend himself. “It was all Missy. You saw the pictures. The videos were enough to send me to jail for twenty years. I can’t go to prison. It was follow through or risk losing everything.”
“I was supposed to be with her that day!” Austin leaps for our father.
Bryce and I hold him back. He’s like a rabid dog.
“For years, you tortured me with the fact that Mom was going to that appointment because I hadn’t done what I was supposed to do. You wanted to kill me, too!” His body goes slack as the hurt fills his muscles.
Bryce places a protective arm around his back.
Father shakes his head. “I wouldn’t have done it if I’d thought you were going to be in the car. That was an unfortunate coincidence.”
“There was no deer.” Bryce looks for our father’s confirmation. “We saw the photos from the accident. We know the bolts were messed with. Why didn’t the detectives see it?”
He gives a simple explanation. “I paid them off.”
In twenty-four hours, my life has changed dramatically. A day ago, I had a family I knew was riddled with drama, but I could deal with it. They were mine, and I accepted them as they were.
That’s the funny thing about families. You accept their flaws in a way you wouldn’t with your friends. You make excuses for them and hide the secrets.
Here I am, in a home that is so far from the one I was raised in, standing in front of a man who is far from the one who raised me. He’s a shell of himself. I used to look up to the man who placed
my mom on a pedestal.
We went camping in the backyard and ate s’mores before dinner. He took me to my first movie and taught me how to drive a car. When he came to New York, he let me drink scotch before I was legal and got me into that underground speakeasy because it was a place he liked to frequent when he was in town.
Yet, despite those good parts, this man before me is everything I never dreamed he’d be. I tried to make amends with his philandering ways. I tried. He’s my only living parent.
“I loved you,” I say. It seems like a moot point, but the words come out of my mouth anyway. “You were once my hero.”
“Mine, too,” Austin says. “I love cars and old movies because that was how we bonded.”
“You were there when I had my first breakup,” Bryce says solemnly. “You took me away to Dublin for the weekend. Told me the world was full of wonders greater than women. It was one of my greatest memories.”
Our father smiles. Hearing the admiration of his boys is something he probably didn’t think was possible.
“And let your vanity and weakness lead you down a path of desperation that cost an amazing woman her life,” I state, wiping the smile off his face.
“You cheated on her with a teenager,” Austin adds.
“You killed our mother,”
Bryce’s words are serenaded by the sound of a siren. The flashing of red and blue lights pours in through the windows.
Father stands quickly and walks over to the window. “Why are the cops here?” He turns to us, his robe swaying with how fast he is at Bryce’s side. “You aren’t going to tell them what I told you, are you?”
Bryce keeps his hard gaze fixed forward.
Father rushes to Austin. “That drive. They haven’t seen it yet. We can burn it.”
“There’s another copy,” Austin says.
I don’t recall Jalynn saying she made a second, but it’s wise of Austin to say so.
Father turns to me. His eyes are red, and his skin has turned white. The man who is usually robust and full of life looks like a frightened criminal, pleading for his life. “Tanner, you won’t do this to me. You’re my boy. My baby boy.” His words drift as he realizes I, too, am not going to save him from this.
Tanner: A Sexton Brothers Novel Page 28
