by Mj Fields
“Fuck that.” He walks around me and turns on the water. He cups the running water in his hands and splashes it on his face. Then he squirts soap in his hands and scrubs his beard. “If you think I can watch you with another man living our life...again, you’re wrong. If you think I’m gonna make Brandon go to a place he clearly hates, you’re wrong. If you think the next time that fucker is eating your pussy, you won’t fucking close your eyes and wish it were me, you’re fucking wrong.” He grabs a towel and rubs it over his face, then throws it in the laundry basket before he turns and looks at me. “Don’t be fucking wrong.” Then he walks out, shutting the door behind him.
I look in the mirror, searching for answers I can’t find.
I grab his towel and rinse it off to clean myself up. When I look down, I gasp. My entire lower body is marked purple where he was sucking my flesh.
That asshole.
After cleaning up, I walk out, ready to let him have it, when I see him sitting with his head in his hands, looking at the floor. It hurts to see him hurt, but it kills when he hurts me.
No.
Never again.
No matter how hard it is to miss him, to love him in silence, to wish things could be different.
I sit down next to him. “Brandon is the focus.”
He looks up and glares at me. “Hard to focus on what’s important when you have two hundred and fifty fucking watts of regret blinding you.”
“You’re gonna run again.” I shake my head. “I knew you were—”
“You clearly know nothing about me. And more clearly, I never knew you. I’m not running. I need more fucking time to figure out what the hell I’m gonna do.”
“Do what’s best for Brandon,” I offer up my suggestion.
“I fucking tried,” he sneers at me.
We both stop talking when Gage walks in the house. Every night after he says goodnight to Brandon, and Brandon and I are in bed, he goes to Phoenix’s cabin. I’m glad he has an outlet. I wish I did.
I stand up and wipe away a tear I didn’t know had fallen. “Gage, it’s—”
He holds up his hand, stopping me. “None of my business.” Then walks into his office and shuts the door behind him.
“We need to tell him you need more time.”
“Fine.” Garrett stands.
Garrett knocks once and opens the door to Gage’s office, me following.
“I’m working.” Gage doesn’t even look up.
“It’ll just take a couple minutes,” I tell him.
“Go ahead,” he huffs.
“We need to wait to tell Brand,” Garrett says.
He looks up, seeming a bit shocked. “We said a week.”
“I need more time.” Garrett’s eyes looked pained.
“Why?” Gage asks.
“He and I aren’t clicking. He and Gray are closer. I need more time.”
He’s mentioned this to Mags. I overheard him, but I can’t believe that’s the reason.
“I told you, as soon as he knows—”
“Shut the fuck up, Juliana. Jesus, just shut up,” he snaps at me.
“Dad?”
I look back and see Brandon standing in the doorway, and guilt washes over me. I step toward him to address the issue, but Gage is quicker.
“You have a nightmare?” Gage asks him.
“Why are they fighting? What do you need to tell me?”
“It’s nothing,” Gage tries to cover it up, but Brandon...Brandon is so smart.
His face scrunches up like he’s pissed. “Just tell me!”
“Hey, bud, come here.” Gage reaches for him.
“No. Just tell me why they fight all the time, Dad. Please, just tell me.” His pleading eyes crush me.
“Okay.” He grabs him and pulls him into a hug. “Okay.”
It is evident from the length of the hug that this is going to happen...now.
Gage. I don’t even like the man, but he is hurting, and it’s my fault. My heart breaks for him.
“Dad, you’re squishing me,” Brandon’s muffled voice comes out.
“Sorry, bud.” He releases him, stands, and takes his hand. “Let’s talk.”
We walk out into the living room behind them. They sit on the couch, and Garrett sits on a chair across from it. I take the other.
“Why does everyone look sad?” Brand knots his hands on his lap as he looks around.
“We’re not sad, bud. We’re hoping you’re big enough to understand something that’s very adult.” He takes his hand.
“I’m a big boy, Dad. Your little man. I can even use a hammer and measure.”
Gage’s eyes grow bigger, unshed tears shining in them.
I am a horrible person.
He clears his throat. “You know how we talked about Grandpa Falcon not being my real dad?”
“You mean biological?”
“Yeah, well...” Gage smiles at him. “I’m always gonna be...” Gage stops, releasing a slow breath. He can’t seem to finish the words.
I look at Garrett who looks the same as I feel—guilty.
Brandon’s expression changes, and his little mouth drops open. Then he cocks his head to the side. “Did my biological father die?”
“No, bud, but he was sick. Really, really sick for a long time.”
His brows knit in confusion. “So, you’re not my biological dad?”
“I love you and have since the day you were born. I love you and will never ever not be here for anything you need.”
His lower lip starts to quiver. “Dad, I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to go.” Tears spring to his eyes, and Gage’s held-in ones fall.
He pulls him into a hug. “I’m not going anywhere, bud. I’m not.”
“Is he gonna try to take me? Is he gonna make me see him? And Mom and you, and...”
Gage’s hug tightens. “I’m always gonna be here.”
He pushes away from him and yells as more tears fall, “No! No, you aren’t! You made me go with Mom when I wanted to stay with you! You made me go there, and I don’t even like to! You made me! You—”
“Brandon, she’s your mom, bud.” Gage tries to grab his hand.
“You made yours go away! Make her! Make her go away!” Brandon looks at me. What he says next hurts worse than anything I have ever experienced in my life. “I hate you! I hate you, and I hate Peter. And I don’t like your house!”
I try to find words to comfort him when I am dying inside. “I understand you’re angry, confused—”
“No! I want to be here! I want to be with Mags and Dad. And I want to know my uncles and Phoenix!” he screams at me.
“Hey. Hey now. What’s going on in here with you, my boy?” Mags asks, coming in from behind us.
“I hate them!”
She slowly walks over and sits down. “Come here, Brand.” She holds her arms out, and he can’t get to her fast enough. That should be me. It should be me he takes comfort in. “Tell me. Tell me what’s causing you to be so angry,” she says, holding his head against her chest as she rubs her hand down the back of it over and over again.
His body shakes as he sniffs and heaves, trying to catch his breath. “He’s gonna let my biological dad take me, Mags. He’s gonna, just like he did Mom. I wanna stay here, Mags. I wanna stay here with you and Dad. And...” He sobs. “I wanna stay here.”
“Okay, let’s try to put your worry to rest, my boy, shall we?” Mags holds his face in her hand and gives him a sweet smile.
He pulls away and looks up at her then points his finger. “Don’t you lie to me.”
“I’m not going to. Neither is your dad, your mom, or your other dad.”
“I don’t want”—he stops and takes a breath, trying to calm himself as his body shakes—”another dad, Mags. I don’t. He’s gonna try to take me. He’s gonna—”
“Hey, Brandon,” Garrett says as he gets up and walks over to sit on the arm of the couch next to Mags. “Buddy, he...I...That will never happen.”
/> Brand looks at him, and then at Gage.
Garrett move closer to him and takes his hand. Then he looks at me before looking at Mags again.
“Brandon, I was in a bad place.” Garrett pauses. “I was sick for a long time. I knew I couldn’t be a good dad, not like Gage. I’m really sorry about that, but I’m here now. I want to get to know you. I want to answer whatever questions you have, and I want you to know I will never come between you and Gage. But, Brandon, I wanna be a part of your life. I do. And I hope you can give me a chance.”
Brandon looks completely confused, but the tears, the worry in his eyes, they have subsided.
“Dad?” he asks, looking at Gage. “Is he my...? Is he my...?”
“Yeah, bud, Garrett’s your dad.”
“And you, too?”
Gage nods.
“And he’s not gonna try to take me away?”
“No, bud. He’s gonna live here and get to know you. He’s better now and wants to be a part of your life, too.”
“So, you’re really my”—he pauses and scratches his head in thought—”my uncle?”
“Yeah.”
“Gage is your family. Always has been, and always will be,” Mags tells Brandon. “Garrett’s home now, he’s better, and now that you’re older, it was time to tell you. But nothing changes, my boy; just more people around to love you and help raise you.”
“Like you do, Dad.” Brand pauses and swallows hard. “I mean, Gage?”
“Pretty much.” Mags smiles sadly as she looks between him and Gage.
He sits still, looking down at his hands quietly.
I need to say something, anything to let him know that I love him.
“Brandon, I’m so sorry I haven’t always been here. I really am. But please don’t be mad at me. Please don’t. I love you so much. I am begging you, Brandon. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. You’re the best part of my life.”
He nods and looks up, lip quivering as he continues to nod.
“I’ve gotta tell you, Brandon...Oh, you like to be called Brand?” Garrett seems to be asking permission to call him that now.
“Dad...Gage...Uncle Gage”—he wipes his eyes, and I see a smile—”calls me Brand.”
“What do you want me to call you?” Garrett asks. “I mean, before you said Brand; does that still hold true?”
Brand looks at Gage, seeking permission. “Brand?”
He nods. “Yeah, Brand suits you.”
He looks back at Garrett. “Still Brand.”
“Okay then, Brand.” Garrett pauses and smiles. “I gotta tell you as fu—”
Mags elbows him hard, and Brand laughs.
“Sorry, Mags. Sorry, Brand. It’s gonna take some getting used to.”
Brand smiles and giggles.
“Like I was saying; as messed up as things are, you sure gotta lot of people who love you in this room. We all want to be part of Brand Falcon’s life. That’s sayin’ something great, right?”
Brand nods as his smile seems to grow, as does the wonder in his eyes as he looks at Garrett.
“Not one of us wants you to be sad or upset, either. Gage, my big brother, your daddy-uncle.” He pauses and smiles at Brand, and Brand smiles back. “He’s someone to look up to. I hope someday you can look up to me, too.”
“You’re tall; I think it’ll be easy to look up to you.” Brand giggles at his own joke.
Garrett lights up right along with him.
“Nothing’s gonna change for you, Brand,” Garrett says, and then laughs, shaking his head. “I mean, it’s a big change, but you’re old enough to handle it, right?”
Brand nods enthusiastically.
“That’s what your mom and Gage said. We’ll all be fine.” Garrett winks at him, and Brand blinks back.
Brand then holds his hand over his belly.
“Are you okay, Brandon?” I ask
“I’m Brand, Mom.” He rolls his eyes at me. “Brand Falcon.”
“I know.” I nod, holding back tears. “But you’re holding your tummy.”
He looks at Garrett. “She thinks I’m a baby.”
“Nah, I think she’s just being a mom,” Garrett says.
“‘Bout time.” Brandon smirks at Gage, repeating something he’s obviously said in front of him.
Gage looks down and then peers up at me.
“Well”—I stand—”I’m going to go make breakfast.” I quickly walk into the kitchen. Busy work. I need busy work.
I open the fridge and pull out a carton of eggs, my hands shaking as I try to remind myself to breathe in and breathe out, in and out, as I hum “Wild Horses” to myself. Right now, I need it.
Chapter Sixteen
Respect
Garrett
“You think we should go help your mom make breakfast?” I hope to hell I can get Brand to ease up on her, and not because I want her to stay, although I do, but because it’s just not fucking right.
“She can handle it,” he jokes.
I look at Gage, wanting to tear him up, wanting to put him in his fucking place, because it’s obvious he’s made a place to shove Juliana in. Then I think about how I might handle it. Probably no fucking different. Damn it.
“How about you go get dressed for breakfast, then.” Mags nods toward the stairs.
Brand hops up. “Okay, but no one is leaving, right?” He looks at me.
“Nope, we’re all staying right here,” I tell him.
As soon as he’s up the stairs, I make eye contact with Gage.
“Boys...” Mags must sense that both of us are at our wit’s end and are about to take it out on each other. She connects her eyes with mine. “If Brand is good with accepting you, then you should try to do the same for Juliana.”
“I am,” I defend.
She gives me a look. “He can sense the tension.”
No fucking shit, I think, looking at Gage, who is looking down. He’s made her the villain more than I have.
Mags squeezes my knee. “This is up to you.”
Angry, I look at her, and she mouths, “This is up to you.”
“Excuse me.” Gage stands and walks out of the room.
I look at Mags. “I’m not—”
“Oh, my boy.” She smiles and touches the side of my face. “It’s your time to shine.”
“But—”
“Brand, Juliana, and your brother...” she pauses then continues, “need you. Shine, Garrett, shine.”
I sit and consider her words as she grabs her cane, stands, and makes her way to Gage’s office.
I know exactly what she means. She’s not choosing Gage’s side, probably never was all those years I thought she was. But now, I need to be stronger and make damn sure I fix this and do it right.
Brand bounds down the stairs, dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt with a hat on his head, the one I gave him days ago.
“Can we build a fence?” He beams.
“We can eat breakfast first; your mom’s making it.” I smile.
“She’ll understand,” he says as if it’s expected.
“I’m starving.” I lean down and whisper, “And she’s expecting us. She’s your mom, Brand. We gotta do what’s right by her too.”
He cocks his head to the side.
“Deserves respect.” I nod.
“Okay.” He nods back.
“Then it’s mowing that pasture.” I grip his shoulder. “Fence is done.”
He follows me into the kitchen. “So, we can get horses now?”
Juliana turns around and forces a smile.
“Let’s see if it’s okay with your mom, but first, we need to mow and fill holes.”
She clears her throat. “Sounds like a lot of work needs to be done before you get horses, huh?”
“But we are getting them, Mom.” He raises his eyebrow, as if to challenge her.
“Wow, Brand, I was always taught to ask, not demand,” I make a joke out of something that’s not a joke.
“But
she lives there. This is Dad’s”—he pauses—”Uncle Gage’s and your place—our place. Boys rule here.” He smiles at me.
“Don’t let Mags know that,” I tease.
“Well, Mags is Mags.” He grins while pulling himself up on the stool.
“And your mom, she’s your mom, kid,” I tell him as I take his hat off and set it down. “And we’re gentlemen.”
He looks at his hat, then me. “Why can’t I wear a hat?”
“Cowboys don’t wear hats at the table.” I wink.
He smiles. “Okay.”
I lean in and whisper, “And they treat women—all women—with respect. It’s hard work being a cowboy, Brand. If you aren’t big enough yet, I understand—”
“I’m plenty big.” He nods enthusiastically.
“Perfect.” I mess up his curls then look at Juliana. “Well, little lady, what are you making us for breakfast?”
She looks at me, eyes soft. Finally, eyes soft.
I smile, and she smiles back.
“Um, pancakes, with chocolate chips, bacon, and I can make hash browns if you like,” she says too damn eagerly.
“Thanks, little lady.” Brand blinks at her.
Her face lights up, yet her eyes fill with tears. She turns so he doesn’t see her.
“Anytime, Brandon, anytime.”
Brand and I spend a few hours mowing the pasture and a couple more walking the area, looking for holes and marking them with stakes.
“What are we gonna fill them with?” he asks.
“Gonna get a load of dirt.” I scratch my head. “Probably should get a truck first, though.”
“Dad”—he pauses—”I mean, Uncle Gage, he has a truck.”
“Well, I think I need a new one.” I do, no doubt. I spent a shitload of money on hookers, but I haven’t spent a dime of my profit share checks from Falcon Construction in years. Couldn’t touch my account, or they would have known where I was. And no, I may not deserve it, but why the fuck not? “What’s your favorite color?”
“Red.” He nods.
I’m not a huge fan of red, but maybe I could get burgundy.
“Let’s see what we can do.”
As we walk through the field to the house, I ask Brand, “What color’s your mom’s car?”
He shrugs. “Oh, she doesn’t have one.”
This shocks me. “Why not?”
“She likes to walk and likes taxis.” He shrugs again. “Peter drives, though.”
