Big O's

by M. S. Parker

  “Wow,” I said, the band around my throat loosened either by surprise or by the booze. “That’s good.”

  Michelle laughed. “I don’t do dry wines. You looked like you were preparing to eat a mouthful of sour grapes.”

  “I was.” I made a face at her, then took a second, smaller sip. After that, I put the glass down and made myself look at Matthew – Jake – standing across the island from me.

  “This is awkward,” I said softly. “I’m sorry.”

  “Just tell me,” he responded. It wasn’t said in a rude voice, just a…direct one.

  I got the feeling I was dealing with a blunt, no-nonsense sort of guy. I could appreciate that. Typically, that was how I preferred to face things. Just then, I could use a bush to beat around.

  “My mom had an affair,” I blurted out, just to get the worst of it over with. “It was with a married man. He…he traveled some because of his work. He lived in Texas, but he met my mom on a business trip when he was in Illinois. His name was Leland.”

  Jake’s mouth tightened slightly, but he didn’t say anything, gave no other reaction.

  “I didn’t find out about that until I was a teenager. Whenever I’d ask about my dad before that, I’d just get these vague answers.” I didn’t offer any of them because it didn’t matter just then. But I could remember the hurt I’d often felt on days when parents could come to field trips or to school parties, and nobody had been there. Mom always had to work, and…there was no father. “Finally, she told me about this guy she was with. She didn’t find out about me until a few weeks after it ended, and when she told him…well...”

  I hesitated for a moment, uncertain, but Jake pressed. “Well, what?”

  “He told her he didn’t want anything to do with us. I guess he had one family. He didn’t want a second.”

  “That doesn’t sound like my dad,” Jake said, shaking his head. “He and Mom always wanted another kid.”

  “But that was your mom, baby,” Michelle said gently.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Jake snapped, then softened his tone. “He’s not the kind of guy who’d brush off his responsibility like that.”

  “And how about how he treated you?” Michelle stared at him.

  I sensed a world of unspoken words between them and felt more out of place in that moment than I’d felt all day.

  Finally, Jake shook his head. “I’ll figure all of that out later.” His gaze came back to mine, speculation lurking there. “You’re sure this guy your mom was with…it was my dad?”

  “That’s what my mother says,” I answered weakly. I gestured toward the phone he still held. “She called me the other day, said she’d found a picture of him. She texted it to me and told me that on the back, his name was written down…” I looked away for a second, gripping the stem of the wine glass in my hand. Finally, I looked back at him and added, “And yours. MJ.”

  At the name, he flinched slightly and shook his head. “That’s not me anymore. That kid died a long time ago.”

  “But it was you,” I said, clinging to his words.

  “It was,” he allowed.

  I was dimly aware that the big guy was still watching us and part of me wanted to turn on him, tell him to go away. Why was he here? Listening to this private conversation? But this wasn’t my home. Jake and Michelle lived here, and if they didn’t care, I had no right to say anything.

  Yet I had the feeling that Jake had forgotten about him.

  He continued to eye me narrowly for the longest time, then finally lifted the phone with the picture still on display so he could study it. “My mom kept a copy of this picture on her dresser for most of my childhood. It was taken when I was in first grade,” he said softly. “Bring Your Dad to School Day. We were supposed to bring our dads in and…well, show them off. And I did. We had matching suits and Mom spent about ten minutes trying to make my hair stay down. You can tell it didn’t last.”

  “Yeah.”

  He shot me a look, a faint smile on his face.

  “So, I’ve got a sister.”

  “I think so.” I bit my lip, reluctant to let myself do much of anything just yet. Did this mean he believed me?

  “And Dad doesn’t know,” he said slowly.

  I shook my head.

  In the next moment, I was caught up in a tight hug. A watery laugh escaped me.

  Jake was hugging me. My brother was hugging me.

  I didn’t even know how to process that.

  I still clutched my wine glass, and if I didn’t think it would make me look like a lush, I might have tried to drink a little more of it, just to steady myself. Instead, I wrapped my free arm around his neck. Over his shoulder, I saw the other guy watching us and making no attempt to disguise it.

  “This is unbelievable,” Jake said, lowering me back to the floor and taking a step back.

  I managed a watery smile. “I know.”

  He glanced around, then frowned as he caught sight of the other guy. “Man, Kane, I’m sorry. I totally…anyway. Raye…it is Raye, right?”

  I nodded at him.

  “Raye, this is my friend, Kane Jonson.”

  Kane. As the big guy nodded at me, I tucked that name away in my heart like a secret.

  Kane continued to stare at me.

  “Kane, as you heard…this is Raye.” Jake was grinning at me, looking like he’d won the lottery. “Raye’s my sister.”

  “So, I heard,” came a deep, rumbling reply.

  The sound of his voice sent a shiver down my spine.

  Now that I was no longer caught up in a bear hug, I lifted the wine to my lips and emptied the glass.

  11

  Jake

  She was a pretty little thing.

  Hesitant and shy…sort of. But there was something ballsy about her, too. How much guts had it taken to come here and meet Jake face to face?

  For all she knew, he would have laughed in her face and thrown her out on her ass.

  Some people might hear they had a brother and they’d only care about it if they stood to gain from it. Calie’s face came to mind, all her bold, brash ways and I found myself a little irritated by the fact that I’d even ever associated with somebody as cold as I knew Calie could be.

  Then there was Michelle, elegant and confident. If she’d been in Raye’s shoes, I thought she would have reached out, but not in person like this.

  She would have sent an email or written a letter. Something polite, like she was, and…aloof. Yeah, that was the word.

  “How did you track me down?” Jake asked.

  I tuned in on that part of the conversation as Jake led her over to the island, taking up the seat where I’d been sitting a little while ago. I wasn’t worried about it. It was easier to lurk on the fringes, and I didn’t want Jake to get it in his head to ask me to leave yet. I was…hell, the only word to describe it was intrigued. I felt stupid getting intrigued by a woman, but I was.

  This slim woman with the short red hair and the big blue eyes was intriguing. She wasn’t like some of the rougher women who ran with the guys I knew from my old life, and she wasn’t the smooth elegance that defined Michelle Nestor.

  I didn’t know how to define her yet, and I wanted to. I wanted to understand more about her, so I could classify her and put her in a neat little space in my head, and maybe stop thinking about her.

  “I started googling you,” she admitted, sounding sheepish as she met his eyes. “I…” Her gaze fell away, and she said softly, “I read about your mother, and what really happened. I’m so sorry.”

  No beating around the bush for her, I thought. She just came right out and said it.

  I liked that.

  Jake’s mouth went tight, the way it always did when he was hiding his emotions. He just nodded and said, “Thanks. It’s been a long time.”

  “Finding out you got used like that…that wasn’t a long time ago. It had to be like reliving it all over again,” she said, voice gentle.

  “It was,” J
ake admitted.

  I slid my gaze toward him, a little surprised to hear him admit it. He’d never told me that. But then again, I’d never thought to ask. I would have thought being cleared of the crime would…well, not change things. I didn’t know how I expected him to feel, I suppose. He’d never really understood that he was innocent. Not until years later. He’d been drunk on that terrible night and hadn’t realized that somebody else was driving the car that killed his mother. Hadn’t realized he’d been wrongly accused. Framed.

  Finding out he was innocent hadn’t brought his mom back. But knowing he hadn’t been the one to kill her had to make things…hell, I’d think it would make it better.

  But this girl with the sad, too-wise eyes had figured out something that hadn’t ever occurred to me.

  All of it had brought the hurt back.

  An awkward silence stretched out, and I was thinking about leaving. This wasn’t the night for an action flick or even just hanging out.

  But before I could suggest it, Michelle looked at me. “You still planning on joining us for dinner? Jake texted earlier, said he was dragging you over.”

  “Uh…”

  Raye’s eyes slid my way.

  “Seems like this is a weird night to do it,” I said finally.

  “Sit your ass down, Kane,” Jake said without looking at me. He crooked a grin at Raye. “He’s the closest thing I got to a brother. Guess you’ll end up getting to know him sooner or later. Might as well start now.”

  I wasn’t so sure I wanted to be considered something like a brother to Jake now, even though it was the truth.

  But if Jake and I were like brothers, was it right for me to be thinking about how Raye would look naked?

  No.

  Jake would rip my head off.

  Hell, I should rip my head off. A girl like her didn’t need some roughneck like me ogling her. Thinking about getting her naked. Wondering what she tasted like or what kind of sounds she made when I…

  My phone buzzed, dragging me out of my reverie and I grabbed it from the island. I’d been staring at Raye, I realized.

  Raye had noticed, too.

  Her pale skin had flushed pink, and she had jerked her gaze away, locking her eyes on Jake.

  Good thing the phone had rung before Jake noticed.

  That was the last thing I needed.

  It was a text from my mother, asking me to call her.

  “I need to make a call,” I said to the room at large and slid out of the kitchen into the hallway.

  I’d been there often enough and felt comfortable enough to slip into the room that Michelle used as her library. Surrounded by books and the scent of lavender and vanilla, I made my way over to a window as I brought Mom’s contact info up and hit dial.

  She answered almost immediately.

  “Hi, Kane. Are you busy?”

  I thought about the dinner I’d been asked to join. “Not if you need me.”

  “You’ve got plans,” she said, worry in her voice.

  “Nothing’s ever more important than you, Mom. You know that.”

  She sighed. “I hate this, but I need your help. Austen and I had an argument earlier, and he left the house. Honey…I think he went to one of those underground street fights with that boy, Jonas. You remember Greg Haynes who lived across from us?”

  “I remember him.” I also remembered his kid. Jonas was a punk. He was also a couple of years older than Austen, and I’d seen him running with the wrong kind of crowd. I had a feeling he had gotten involved with one of the new gangs that had popped up, and that was the last thing my kid brother needed to be involved in.

  “Well, I overheard them talking, and Jonas was telling him about these fights. I shouldn’t have lost my temper, but that boy is a rude little shit. I knocked on the door and asked what they were up to. Anyway, we got into an argument after I told Jonas that Austen had school work and couldn’t have company. Jonas mouthed off to me, and I told him to get out of my home and not come back. A few minutes later, Austen left, too! Kane, those street fights are trouble…I don’t know what to do!”

  “I’ll handle it, Mom,” I told her, staring outside at the slow drift of snow that had started to fall.

  It had been a while since I’d been to the part of town where Jonas had probably taken my brother, but that didn’t mean I didn’t still know my way around. “I need to go.”

  I had a few phone calls to make.

  Rusty had given me two places to check. To my surprise, he offered to hit the one closest to his place, but I’d passed.

  If Rusty went in and found Jonas and Austen, he’d suggest they leave. Austen wouldn’t know Rusty, and he’d follow Jonas’s cue. Jonas was a stupid little shit and might try to mouth off to Rusty. That wouldn’t end well for the punk, and I’d rather my brother not see just how it might end.

  Maybe it would scare him straight, but I’d still rather avoid that sort of thing.

  The first location was a bust.

  Less than thirty people there and none of them were my little brother.

  The second location, housed in an empty warehouse well off the beaten path, that was a different story. Almost thirty cars were parked in the lot, and somebody at the door was taking money.

  I peeled off the bills needed to get inside. I’d hit an ATM on the way in, knowing I’d need to pony up the entrance fee. They weren’t going to listen to a tale of woe about how I needed to find my brother.

  As soon as I got inside, I had a feeling he was in there. It was a younger crowd for the most part, and I recognized a few faces belonging to the guys I’d seen Jonas hanging out with.

  A couple of guys saw me prowling around, and I knew I was being sized up. I ignored them. Most of the guys in there, I could take blindfolded, but I wasn’t looking to fight.

  Not unless I had to anyway.

  I headed to the rough ring set up in the middle of the floor first, searching for a messy head of hair. I struck out, but off to the far left, I heard hoots and hollers and decided to check it out.

  A few kids were staggering toward me, and I rolled my eyes as I stepped out of their way. They’d be puking in a few minutes.

  One guy crashed into me, half stumbled back a step, then glared at me with baleful eyes. “You should watch the fuck where you’re going,” he said.

  I just stared him down.

  After a few more seconds, he just sneered and told me to suck his dick before cutting around me to get lost in the crowd. I heard a voice over a crappy loudspeaker setting up the next fight and announcing the odds.

  I didn’t turn around.

  I found Austen near a couple of kegs, his hair standing on end, his eyes bleary from the effects of booze. When I said his name, he craned his head around, searching for me.

  Crossing my arms, I said his name again and waited until he finally sighted on me.

  A bright grin lit his face.

  “Hey, Kane!” He lifted a red SOLO cup to his lips and drank.

  If I had anything to do with it, he’d puke his guts up before he got into my car.

  “You here to watch the fights?” he asked. Then his eyes widened. “Are you here to fight? I bet you’d kick everybody’s ass.”

  He said it in a voice loud enough to have multiple eyes come my way. I lifted an impassive gaze and waited for somebody to move in on me, but other than a couple of scoffing laughs, nobody reacted.

  “How about you keep your voice down?” I suggested. “And get your shit. I’m taking you home.”

  “No.” Belligerent now, he pointed at me, still holding the cup, spilling out some of the amber liquid in the process. I caught the pungent aroma of cheap beer as it splashed to the floor. “I ain’t going home. Tired of being treated like a fuckin’ kid. I’m a man, damn it.”

  “And look at you, acting like one. You’re so drunk, you can barely see straight.” Looking around, disgusted, I resisted the urge to pick him up and carry him out, but only because I didn’t want to risk getting
puked on. It might come to that, but I was going to try talking first. “You run off and scare Mom, shirking your responsibilities, that’s how a man acts?”

  “I…” He frowned at me. “Why’s Mom scared?”

  I didn’t have a chance to answer because his friend Jonas emerged from the crowd and threw an arm around his neck. “Heeeeeyyyy…Austen. Man. Guess what?”

  Austen blinked at him. He’d already forgotten me.

  “I put your name down for the next round.”

  Aw, fuck.

  “That’s it,” I said, grabbing Austen’s cup and throwing it into the nearest upright drum that was close to overflowing with trash. “You and me, we’re out of here, kid.”

  Jonas laughed. “No way, dude. He’s up next to fight. He’s going to kick ass!”

  I caught Austen’s arm and bent my head until I was nose to nose with Jonas. “Let go,” I said in a flat voice.

  Jonas looked at me, then smiled, displaying teeth that were already starting to yellow from nicotine. Shit, he couldn’t be any more than nineteen or twenty. “He’s gotta fight. Name’s down. That’s the rules.”

  “He is seventeen years old, you dumbass. If you think you’re going to get him in that ring with some dickhead, think again.”

  Jonas jutted his chin up. “Hey, it’s the luck of the draw.”

  “Then you go take his place.”

  Jonas’s eyes flitted away, but his grin never wavered. “I can’t. I put money on the fight. I’m not allowed to take his place.”

  I shot out a hand and grabbed the punk by the front of the shirt, never letting go of Austen, who’d started to weave on his feet. “The day my brother steps in that ring is the day I put you in a pine box, kid. Now wipe that shit-eating grin off your face before I do it for you.”

  Jonas’s face pale the tiniest bit, but as I let him go, a voice came over the loudspeaker. And it said my brother’s name.

  Lights shown all around, clearly searching for him.

  Jonas threw up his arms and waved them, shouting, “We’re over here.”