by Zoey Marcel
“I suppose you’re right. Brighton has been permitted to run around like a little hellion long enough. What he really needs is a firm hand, someone who can force him to obey, make him like it.”
“Exactly.” David headed out.
* * * *
Brighton caught his older brother in the hall. “Hey, did you talk to him?”
David’s expression was oddly stern. “Yeah, I talked to Siegfried for you.”
Brighton panicked. “What? You were supposed to talk to Dad, not him.”
“I thought you wanted me to talk to Siegfried.”
“No. I said Dad. Ugh! I knew you weren’t listening.”
“Dad’s in the study. He wants to talk to you.”
“What about?”
“Just go in there,” David evaded.
Brighton wandered down the hall and found his father standing by the fireplace in the study. His heart jumped when he saw Siegfried standing near him.
“What’s going on?” Brighton asked.
“That’s precisely what I’d like to know,” his dad said sharply.
Brighton’s eyes dropped to the small paper bag that Dad tossed onto the floor. “What is that?”
“You should know. It’s the cocaine and heroin you got from Kale.”
His mouth fell open and his eyes shot over to Siegfried.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the butler said calmly. “You left me no choice. You should have listened to me.”
Brighton shivered. “That’s not mine.”
“Oh shut up,” his father snapped. “This wouldn’t be the first time I found you with drugs. Remember the marijuana you had once as a teenager?”
“That wasn’t mine.” Brighton pointed at him. “It was Joey’s. I just said it was mine so his dad wouldn’t beat the tar out of him.”
“A likely story,” Dad argued.
“Siegfried planted it as false evidence on me.”
“Stop accusing him of things. I find it disgraceful the way you slandered him and tried to get him fired when he was only trying to help you. He was willing to keep your secret if you went to rehab, but you’re so stubborn and defiant you couldn’t even do that. You tried to get rid of him, like you’ve done with countless servants.”
“This is different.”
“It’s always different! Like when you tried to get Anna fired after you slept with her and she was late on her period.”
“Hey, I had a nice cabin in the woods for her. I was gonna provide for her and take care of her and the baby,” Brighton explained. “I just didn’t want you to find out that I was a baby daddy, which I’m not because she wasn’t pregnant, just late.”
“The woods, sir?” Siegfried teased.
Brighton glared at him. “The Black Hills.”
“Enough,” his father growled. “You’re not to ever see Kale again. Do you hear me?”
“You can’t keep me from seeing him,” Brighton said in frustration.
“Watch me. He’s no good for you. If you stay with him, you’ll wind up dead. I’m not letting that happen.”
“Kale didn’t give me drugs. Siegfried is lying.”
“It’s no use, sir,” Siegfried told him. “You have a history of lying. Only one of us can be telling the truth and we both know who that is.”
Brighton’s eyes stung. “He got me drunk and kissed me. He did things.”
“I will not hear another false word against him,” Dad said furiously.
“If you’ll pardon me, sir, his statement is not entirely false,” Siegfried admitted.
Brighton’s head flew up.
Alan McAlister looked at Siegfried, calming down some. “What do you mean?”
“Years ago he kissed me when he was drunk, but I told him he was too young and it would be inappropriate of us to form a relationship when I work here. I said I wouldn’t tell anyone,” Siegfried conveyed to him while looking Brighton in the eye. “But you understand I have to now. I couldn’t let you think that your son is a complete liar. The drunken kiss story was a partial truth. I think he’s getting better. Perhaps in time with enough discipline he will learn to be a good boy.”
Brighton burned with rage, eyes blurring. When he’d dug back into Siegfried’s top dresser drawer the other day, his light blue briefs were gone. He figured Siegfried still had them and had just hidden them somewhere else to rob him of any credibility.
“You’re too kind, Siegfried,” his father said. “However, I agree with the discipline part. Young man, you’re grounded.”
Brighton scoffed. “I’m an adult.”
“You’re a danger to yourself. Apologize to Siegfried.”
The order shocked him to the core. “You want me to apologize to him?”
“You’ve done him a grave disservice by slandering him and trying to get him fired to conceal your drug addiction.”
Damn Siegfried for this.
“No,” Brighton said angrily.
“Go to your room.”
He ran out of the room, fighting back tears.
* * * *
Cole McAlister walked into Brighton’s room and found him packing a suitcase. It was probably for the best. He wasn’t safe here, probably hadn’t been for a long time.
He leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets watching him. “Will you be staying with Kale, then?”
“Well, that depends,” Brighton said without looking at him. “Are you gonna tell Dad?”
“You know I won’t.”
“Then yeah, that’s where I’ll be staying. At least Kale believes me when I talk.”
“I believe you.”
His head jerked and he seemed astonished. “You do?”
Cole nodded and shut the bedroom door. “I believe that Siegfried planted the drugs in your room, but I don’t believe that he was playing with Danielle’s knickers. I think there was another reason you wanted him gone, one you don’t feel comfortable discussing with anyone.”
Brighton’s head bowed and his eyes closed.
“The drunken kiss story, that’s not all of it, is it?”
He shook his head slowly, a tear slipping down his cheek.
Cole stepped closer. “How many times?”
“Twice. Three times if you count what happened recently. I was drunk all three times.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“Well, let’s just say Kale wasn’t my first man.”
He suspected as much. Spying Brighton’s keys on the bed, he sat down on the edge and turned them over in his hand. There were two keys on the ring. One was to the house and the other was to Brighton’s bedroom.
“I think you should stay.”
Brighton gave him a “How stupid are you” look and continued packing. “You’re joking, right? Why would I stay in the same house with a predator that frames me and a dad who doesn’t even believe me?”
“It was only a suggestion.” Cole took the key to Brighton’s bedroom off the ring when he wasn’t looking. He slipped it into his pocket, already forming a plan. “We haven’t spent much time together since I came home. What do you say we have a few drinks at the saloon tomorrow night, just the two of us?”
Brighton stilled, voice mellowing. “I don’t want to drink anymore.”
Cole didn’t blame him. “You don’t have to, but we’ll be in public. It might be a nice way to unwind and vex our father. You know how opposed he is to your fondness for alcohol.”
Brighton squinted off into space. “Yeah, it would serve him right. All right, I take you up on that.”
“Good.” Cole stood and gave him a quick pat on the back. “I’ll see you then.”
“Cole.”
He gave Brighton his attention, pausing at the door.
“How did you know?”
“Your behavior of late wasn’t normal, especially around Siegfried.”
Brighton looked down, twiddling his thumbs. “I went along with everything, responded.”
“It’s not your fault.”
&nbs
p; “I’ve always been kind of a player. You’re smart enough not to get drunk and David didn’t sleep with as many women as I did.” He squirmed, withholding eye contact. “Siegfried called me a slut. Do you think he was right?”
“No.”
Brighton rubbed his arm, looking miserable. “I kissed him first. People talk about their violent, scary experiences, but mine wasn’t like that. It was like sex, but it felt wrong. The next day I felt used even though I didn’t try to stop him the first time. The second time I did at first, but then I got into it.”
Cole watched him break down into tears and went over to him. He pulled Brighton close and let him cry into his shirt. “It doesn’t matter if the occurrence is violent or not. It felt wrong because it was wrong. Your body might have responded, but your mind didn’t. The mind is everything. If it’s disengaged or impaired in some way, then a sexual act becomes something else entirely. It doesn’t matter if you kissed him first or flirted with him. If flirting was a prerequisite to sex, cashiers would be shagging on the clock.”
Brighton giggled and then sniffled.
Cole smiled and rubbed his back. “You did nothing wrong.”
“I just feel bad because my situation wasn’t as bad as some people’s. I should just get over it quicker.”
“People heal at different rates. If someone takes a while, it doesn’t make them weak in much the same way as it doesn’t mean that a person who recovers quickly is in denial or burying their feelings in some way. Some people are traumatized for a long time while others move on quickly. Neither side should be ashamed for it.”
Brighton wiped his eyes. “Thanks, Cole. You’re the smartest one in this house.”
“I know.” Cole headed for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow night. Don’t cancel. This is important to me.”
Brighton smiled. “I won’t.”
Cole left the room, closing the door behind him. He already had a plan and no doubt that it would work swimmingly.
* * * *
The following night they went to the saloon together for food and drinks. Cole was glad to see Brighton in better spirits tonight, on spirits anyway. He was always loud and quirky when intoxicated, but Cole wouldn’t let him get drunk this time, merely tipsy. Just enough so he smelled like alcohol and was uninhibited.
Their chauffeur drove them home afterward. Cole didn’t know his name since the driver had been hired while he was living abroad.
“Did you see me? I was doing my thing,” Brighton said in a boisterous octave. “Oh yeah, I can hold my liquor. I told him. You should have let me have more, man.”
“Your behavior is quite bold enough,” Cole said.
“Please. I’m acting normal. You want to see bold? Just give me some tequila and watch me dance.” Brighton wiggled side to side in a peculiar sway that was likely his idea of dancing. He scrunched his nose and bore his teeth with his eyes closed. In truth, he resembled a beaver.
The driver and Cole shared a look and then smirked.
“I’m the life of the party, not like you. Oh, I’m Cole. I’m so serious. Watch my regal face, so serious.” Brighton gave his impression of him and possibly the worst attempt at an English accent he’d ever heard. “Look away. I have my books. I like the finer things. Look away. I’m too smart for you. You’ve never seen this level of sophistication. Look away. You can’t touch this. I’m bloody Cole McAlister. Look away.”
He laid the back of his hand against his face, like a maiden in days of old growing faint beneath the summer sun.
A slow smile curved Cole’s lips. “When have I ever said ‘Look away’?”
Brighton guffawed. “Oh, it’s so you. You know it is.”
The driver cracked up in the front seat.
Cole adjusted his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. “I hardly think so.”
Brighton’s mirth became anxiety when he saw the driveway they were pulling into. “What are we doing here?”
“I said I’d take you home.”
“I thought you meant Kale’s house.”
“I have my doubts that he would appreciate me returning you to him inebriated.” Cole unbuckled.
Brighton’s face became downcast.
“Besides, if you mean to leave home you’ll require your belongings. You can spend the night here and pack the remainder of your things in the morning.”
“Okay. I guess I’ll just the lock the door to my room.”
“Don’t lock the door.”
The little bloke’s head jerked toward him.
“I don’t want you vomiting alone with no one able to come in to see that you’re all right. Say you won’t.”
“But, Cole—”
“Promise me,” Cole said seriously.
He didn’t know if Siegfried had a spare key to Brighton’s room or not, but Cole had the original key in his pocket.
Brighton’s eyes lowered in defeat and his voice became a whisper. “I promise.”
Cole could only imagine what the poor sod thought, but this was all part of the plan. He would have let Brighton in on his scheme, but his youngest brother couldn’t keep a secret that wasn’t his own. He couldn’t know.
The driver parked the car and Cole walked with Brighton up to the house.
“Will you check on me during the night?” Brighton asked faintly.
Cole’s heart broke. He tightened the arm he had around his sibling. “You’ll be safe.”
The front door opened after he rang the doorbell. He felt Brighton’s body stiffen against him when Siegfried opened the door.
“Welcome back, sir. Is Brighton all right?”
“He’s drunk, I’m afraid,” Cole said. “Don’t tell Father. I meant to stop him sooner, but he’s had one too many.”
Siegfried smiled. “Oh, Brighton.”
Brighton’s nails dug into his coat. “I’m not drunk, just buzzed.”
“Now, Brighton, there’s no use arguing.” Cole pulled his arm away from him and guided Brighton toward the butler. “Anyone can see you’re intoxicated and can’t take care of yourself. I would help you to bed myself, but I have a prior engagement to attend to. Siegfried will take good care of you.”
Brighton glanced apprehensively at Siegfried before averting his eyes in misery.
“Father and David are away. Siegfried, will you see that he gets to bed all right?”
“Of course.”
Cole looked between them. “I gave the servants the night off, so it will just be the two of you here. Well, Trudy will be here as well. Just ring for either her or Siegfried if you need anything.”
Brighton stood there dumbfounded as Cole turned to leave.
“Enjoy your evening, sir,” Siegfried said, placing a hand on Brighton’s shoulder. “I’ll take him to bed.”
Cole walked back toward the car. “I know you will.”
He had the chauffeur pull out of the driveway and down the street a little.
“Go back. Turn the lights off first.”
“Yes, sir.”
The driver pulled the car back into the driveway slowly with the lights off.
“Go ahead and park. Wait here until I get back and then you can put it away.”
“I will, sir.”
Cole got out of the car and then ran across the lawn. He knocked on the backdoor and Trudy let him in.
“Midnight surprises,” she declared as he brushed past her. “I thought you left.”
“Stay close. When I tell you to, call the police.”
“Mercy, whatever for?”
He hurried up the stairs, trying to be quiet. When he reached the door to Brighton’s room, he tried the knob as silently as he could. It was locked.
For all of Brighton’s rebellious ways, he’d never broken a promise. Siegfried had to have been the one to lock the door.
Cole strode swiftly to the landing, pulling the key to Brighton’s bedroom from his pocket. He saw Trudy standing below, waiting for his instruction.
“Call the police.”
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* * * *
Brighton got his pajamas out while Siegfried stood there ogling him.
“You can go now. I’m not drunk. I can get myself to bed.”
“I couldn’t let you do that, Brighton.”
He heard a clicking sound. Whirling around, he saw that Siegfried had locked the door.
“I’ll yell out if you don’t unlock the door right now and leave.”
Siegfried stalked toward him. “We’re alone. Trudy’s hearing isn’t what it used to be. Even if you do scream, no one will hear you.”
Brighton slapped him. “I said get out!”
Siegfried grabbed him by the throat. Brighton tried to pry his hand off, gasping for air. Siegfried crammed a piece of cloth into his mouth and then freed the tie around his neck with one hand. He shoved Brighton facedown over the bed and bound his hands behind his back.
“I warned you not to defy me, little one. Now I have to hurt you.”
Tears bubbled over. Why did Cole leave him?
Just then the door flew open and Cole walked in. Brighton squealed into the gag and Siegfried let go of him.
“The police are on their way here,” Cole said icily. “Wait for them downstairs.”
Siegfried walked over to the door.
“Wait,” Cole said.
Siegfried stopped and Cole punched him in the face, knocking him down.
Brighton grinned into the gag.
All right! Cole really is the best.
Siegfried got up and started down the hall. Cole followed and then took off when it sounded like Siegfried ran.
Brighton did his best to push himself up so he could leave the room.
“What’s going on?” Trudy shrieked.
The back door slammed shut and a few seconds later it opened and then slammed shut again.
Brighton stood on the landing, trying to get Trudy’s attention, but she was too busy squawking in confusion. He didn’t want to risk tumbling down the stairs, so he scooted down each step slowly on his butt until he reached the bottom.
Trudy gasped. “You poor dear!”
He stood and she untied him quickly. He yanked the gag out of his mouth and thanked her.
