Knox Brotherhood

by Knox, Elizabeth

  “We c-can f-fly to He-aa-ven?” She looks at me curiously, and I shake my head, giggling at the thought.

  “Not quite. But whenever you miss Daddy, know he’s always watching over us. And, my sweet, remember he’s always right here.” I tap on her chest, right where her heart is. Ellie giggles, and grabbing my hand, she brings out that sass that every woman in our family has.

  “No! He’s too b-iiiiig!”

  I can’t help but laugh at my little sister, she is right about that, but I know he is always with us. I choose to believe that, believing that is what gets me through most days.

  ***

  “Luke! Sabrina!” I yell from the stove up to my younger brother and sister. Luke is fifteen, and Sabrina is a few years younger, just having had her ninth birthday last week. As I said before, it’s the same shit, different day. I’m cooking everyone bacon, eggs, and toast this morning, though, opposed to the usual cereal or quick thing I could throw at them if we were running late.

  “Be there in a second!” I hear Luke yell down the stairwell as Sabrina comes running down. She looks at me, and we both exchange a glance, knowing very well that Luke isn’t going to be down in just a second. I swear, this kid takes more time in front of the mirror than I ever did, but I suppose that’s what happens when you’re the star pitcher of the Lawrenceville Blazers, his high school baseball team. I’m hoping and praying to God that Luke continues to do well in baseball; at this rate, it’s the only way I’m going to be able to get him into college. I will motivate the living hell out of him and do whatever I have to do to help him maintain his averages. That’s going to get him a scholarship and send my little bro after his dreams to play in the major leagues.

  I gave up on my dreams when I found out my dad was sick. I had this long, detailed plan to open up a bar. The thing is life is messy and cruel. We are almost never able to go after our dreams, and that’s fucked up if you ask me. My dream may not have been as glamourous as Luke’s, but it was still my dream to own something that was completely mine, to be able to tell people this is MY place. I’d worked in the bar scene since I was sixteen, and now, at twenty-two, I still haven’t left.

  When my dad died a year ago, everything changed. I could no longer afford to go to college, to finish my bachelor’s in Business Management, or go after my dream. I had to be a realist, I had to assume the role of caregiver. It wasn’t anything I would have ever asked for, but I would never abandon my family. We’d been through enough already, so I was doing, and still, am doing, everything to make sure that we don’t have to go through anything else.

  When Ellie was born in my junior year of high school, everything was fucked. My mother had some sort of awful mid-life crisis and abandoned us all. Her husband and her four kids. Maybe it was because, at forty-two, she wasn’t supposed to have any more kids, I don’t know. My dad never hid it from any of us that Ellie was a surprise, but a very welcomed one.

  I can think about it, and at the end of the day, I still won’t have an answer for why my mother chose to leave. It wouldn’t matter, though, even if I did find that answer. I’d still hate her as much as I do today.

  I hate her for leaving Dad.

  I hate her because Ellie will never know a mother. Luke, Sabrina, and I at least have memories of her. Good ones, and the bad, we still have memories. To Ellie, our mom is a ghost, a figment of her imagination, a memory that I choose to keep alive because I want her to know that our mother loves her, even if she has a fucked-up way of showing it.

  I hate her more because of how she left, how she just picked up, packed all her things one day while we were at school, and left. I found Ellie in her car seat on the living room coffee table with a note addressed to my father. He was working late that night, and I knew that she knew that. This wasn’t something that was sporadic or spur of the moment. She knew exactly what she was doing, and boy did that light the fire inside me.

  I suppose I could stand here, frying these eggs and think of so many reasons that I now have hatred towards the woman who brought me into this world. It would be a very long list, and yet, every single one of my reasons would be valid.

  I know exactly why I hate her the most, and this is going to sound awful.

  I hate her for doing this to me. For being the reason, I had to grow up so quickly. I hate her for making me become the mother in our family at seventeen. I hate her for not having that senior year of high school that I wanted, the one where you stay out too late, you fuck the boy you shouldn’t, where I shouldn’t have listened to my father and rebelled. Because of her, though, that never happened. Instead, I was changing diapers and feeding Ellie at three in the morning. I was taking Luke and Sabrina to whatever extra-curricular was on the schedule. I held resentment towards her for it, and I still do, only now, it’s so much more than that.

  When Dad was diagnosed with cancer, I cried. I cried like my heart had been ripped from my chest. I found out the day that I graduated high school. I remember that day, how I found him passed out that morning in the living room, the color faded from his skin. I thought he was dead, and to be honest, he looked like he was. Five hours passed of me waiting in the Emergency Room, ultimately missing my own graduation, and then he told me, with tears in his eyes. He’d known for months, secretly getting treatments behind our backs. There was an obvious change in his behavior, I can recall him going to bed earlier, not going out with his friends as much, but I attributed that to Ellie screaming at all hours. The exhaustion made sense to me.

  It made “sense” until it didn’t; until my entire world had yet again come crashing down around me. My dad fought, and boy did he fight pretty fucking hard. He was trying to kick cancer’s ass. I can’t help but tear up remembering how stubborn and bullheaded he was, insisting on working as he was getting his treatments. He knew that we couldn’t afford for him to stop, so he didn’t. He worked until two days before he died, much to everyone’s dismay. My father is my hero, and I know a lot of daughters say that, but it’s true. He did everything that he could have to prepare us for his death, he never admitted it to me – the fact that he knew he was going to die, but deep down, we both knew.

  I glance over to my purse where I very well see the few bills that I haven’t had the courage to open. My day job as a school secretary helps a little bit to pay the bills; it’s enough for groceries, gas, phone, and internet, and for whatever the kids need. It’s not cheap living in this suburb of Atlanta, and I swore I’d do whatever it took to keep the kids in our childhood home. I stand by that promise.

  I can’t help but see the stamped red letters of Past Due to what is no doubt my mortgage bill. I sigh, knowing that no one could prepare me for my reality. As much as he tried, he just couldn’t prepare me for any of this.

  CHAPTER 2

  Christian

  Even after living in Atlanta for all of these years I will never get used to the atrocious humidity. Even in the late spring, it is awful. It makes your suit stick to you like a second skin.

  A few years ago, I spoke with my brothers about starting up a second headquarters in New York City. Jordan humored my idea, and Logan, well he shot it down completely. Telling me that we needed to stay home, in Atlanta, that we’re prominent members of the community and all that hog wash. Fuck Atlanta and being part of the community, I’m a selfish bastard who wants another location in New York, just for the mere purpose that we’re not walking on the streets of Hell, being burned alive, sweating through our suits.

  I walk up the vast staircase that leads into Steele Enterprises, comforted by the immediate drop in temperature. Some of the girls here joke that it’s so cold in our building because of our lethality in the business world. I always joke that we may be cold hearted, but we certainly know how to keep it heated below the belt. In most cases, I end up getting laid after that joke.

  “Chrissy!” I turn back to the sound of Lacey’s voice. I haven’t seen her in ages; she’s the sister that we never had. Lacey is Esme’s granddaughter and has
been through a hell of a lot, but it’s not my place to tell her story.

  “You sly devil, I haven’t seen you in ages!” I wrap my arm around her as we walk towards the elevator.

  “You’re going to start rumors touching me like that, you know.” She wags her eyebrows at me, and I can’t help but chuckle. Everyone in this building knows that the closest Lace will ever get to me is as close as she is right now, like a sister. The elevator door opens and the two of us walk inside, everyone shuffle spaces, allowing us to enter. For some reason, no one ever wants to be in an elevator with me. To this day, I will never understand.

  “I’m not the one you need to worry about rumors with, Lace.” I smile at her, thinking of how this would never go anywhere. Lacey is a beautiful woman. I’ve seen models that can’t compare to her authentic beauty. I am just not interested; there is another woman who has peaked my interest, a woman who I let slip away and I plan on seeing her again. I just have to figure out how that’s going to happen.

  “Oh, so who am I in the rumor mill with? Oh, tell me, is it Logan?” Lacey feigns shock, “the engaged man with the baby on the way, oh, what a little slut I am, screwing him of all people!”

  I glance over at her as I pull my cell phone out of my pocket and take a quick glance at my emails. It seems that I will never have a day where I’m not CC’d on at least a hundred emails about stupid shit that I could care less about. I suppose it’s all about keeping appearances up, though. “Do you really want to know?” I ask her as I look at an email regarding surprising her grandmother with a work birthday party.

  “You’ve known me long enough, Christian Steele, to know that if I didn’t want you to tell me, I wouldn’t have damn well asked you. Culo.” I chuckle at her calling me an ass.

  “Puta, shush for a moment, and I’ll tell you.” Lacey and I have always bickered back and forth. Even as kids, we could never stop. I suppose to many it looked like we had a crush on one another, but that was never the case. “Jordan.”

  “Jordan, what?” She furrows her brows in confusion.

  “You wanted to know who you’re in the rumor mill with? It’s Jordan.” I smirk at her. She does a shit job at hiding her interest in him, and I won’t deny that she actually isn’t in the rumor mill with Jordan, but I’ll have my bit of fun with this. “I heard a rumor that you gave him a blowjob in his office one night, and one of the cleaning ladies saw you.” I keep my face straight, my voice unwavering as to not give me away.

  “I did not!” Lacey argues, her face flushing red.

  “It’s okay, Lace, really. I don’t judge either of you. Just next time, make sure that there aren’t any witnesses around. We don’t want to stir that office gossip, okay?” I tell her sternly before the elevator doors open, and I walk out, a huge grin on my face, wondering exactly how this will play out.

  I make my way to the corner of the floor where I’d chosen to have my office. It’s quiet, in the back, and tucked away. I don’t like interruptions, period. I like to be able to focus on my work, in a quiet, completely silent setting. You know those people who have the music blasting while they try to become mathematicians? Yeah, I’m not like that.

  There are people who compare me to my brothers, and I hate those people. Logan, Jordan, and I are so completely different. Logan is the leader; the man’s word is law, and it always has been since the day he was born. Jordan is the delegator, the man who gets shit done. And me, well. I am the…I don’t know what I am, besides the muscle. I’m the man that is sent when shit goes down when it all goes to Hell. I am the man that will fuck you up. In other words, I’m your worst fucking nightmare.

  Now I know you’ve probably heard about my party boy reputation, and it’s true, I love to fucking party. Every aspect of my life is raw; there are moments of pure evil, of chaos beyond anyone’s belief, so I tend to be a fan of letting loose at every opportunity that I can. Does that make me a bad person? No. It makes me human. People seem to forget, there is give and take in everything within life.

  I think of the headlines that I see about me, plastered all over every gossip magazine in Atlanta. It’s no secret that we own half the city, probably more, if you ask my brothers. For this reason, exactly, we’re the target of a lot of gossips, specifically me. Logan was the target until he met Brooklyn, the secret daughter of Alfred Hamilton, and oh, how the tabloids loved that. Although, they seem to love that she’ll be birthing the first Steele heir within the next few days even more. I swear, it’s like she’s Princess Kate, or whatever her name is.

  As if her ears are burning, “Princess Kate” struts through my door, holding a brown paper baggie and a drink holder. The glorious smell hits my nostrils, they flare in excitement, and I can’t help but smile at the woman I proudly call my soon-to-be-sister. “Tell me that isn’t what I think it is.”

  Brook shuts the door behind her and walks over to my desk, sitting in one of the luxurious chairs that I have in front of me. “This isn’t what you think it is.” I can tell she’s lying. My nose has never failed me, whether its smelling a piece of scum, or smelling my favorite dish on planet Earth.

  “Have I told you how much I love your pregnancy cravings?” I joke, going for the bag.

  “Only every day, and I think Lo’ is getting a little disappointed. He thought that he’d be gaining all this pregnancy weight too, and instead, I’m sharing it with you.” Brooklyn grabs her drink, sticks the straw in the top, and moans at the deliciousness that is hitting her taste buds.

  “He’s just jealous. I can’t say I blame him, though.” I wink at her, tearing open the Styrofoam container, my eyes landing on my fried chicken taco from Taqueria del Sol. If you’ve been in Atlanta and haven’t tried this, you have to. I devour it within a matter of seconds, sad that she didn’t get any more.

  “Did you even chew that?” Brooklyn chastises me. I laugh and shake my head.

  I take a long look at Brooklyn, and she looks exhausted like the life is being sucked out from her. “Are you doing okay?” I ask, clearly concerned.

  “Yep! I’m A-OK, I’ll just be feeling a lot better when this little man decides to come on out and grace us with his presence...I can’t wait to meet him.” She smiles dotingly at her stomach as she rubs in small circles.

  “I’m not giving you more than two days. Emmett is gonna be meeting us all really soon, Brook.”

  “I sure as heck hope so, I’m exhausted, and don’t get me wrong – I love being pregnant, but I am tired. I just want him here.” I nod, trying to understand what she’s been going through these past few months. There’s a light rap at the door, I don’t even get to say anything before I see Logan and Jordan walking through.

  “Shit, did someone just have Taqueria del Sol?” Logan growls, glancing at Brook and then me. I chuckle, nodding. The bastard is just jealous I’ve been reaping the pregnancy cravings.

  “Are there any leftovers?” Jordan asks, peeking over into the bag. Brooklyn grabs it and pulls out another Styrofoam container, handing it to Jordan.

  “Got you some hot ones.” Brooklyn smiles, and damn, I can see how Logan was so caught up with her from the very beginning. When Brooklyn smiles, she lights up the entire room. It’s like looking at a real-life angel. I’m not in love with my brother’s girl, or any of that shit, but I get it. I see why he was so in awe of her since day one.

  “Where’s mine?” Logan grumbles at Brook, I watch as she glares at him with all her might.

  “I dunno. I’d assume that if I’d want to get you anything for dinner that I would have to be happy with you, wouldn’t I? And I’m not very happy with you right now.”

  I take the second drink from the carrier and take a sip as I watch the show unfold in front of me. Jordan is watching too. Brooklyn is an angel, but she…damn, she can be the devil if she really tries too.

  “Sweetheart, let’s go talk in private.”

  “You just don’t want your brothers to see me chewing your ass out,” Brooklyn grumbles, getting up slowly from
the chair. She walks out of the door, and Logan follows her, shutting the door behind him.

  “Now that Brook is gone, let’s get down to a little business, then a bit of pleasure.” Jordan winks, “What’s the status on our latest issues?”

  Issues as Jordan calls them is code for flakey motherfuckers who don’t pay, and me? I deal with those issues. “Diaz hasn’t paid up. I’ll be making a visit to him in a few days. Jasper’s payment was late, but it was made. You know I don’t tolerate that shit, he’s still getting his ass whooped. We run a business, not a charity. No one gets away with missing their deadline. If they want our product, they pay up. It’s as simple as that,” I grumble.

  “Good. I expect that you’ll let me know about what transpires during your visits.”

  “When have I not told you what goes down?” I hiss, annoyed that Jordan is treating me like I’m a child.

  “You always have.”

  “Exactly. Don’t treat me like some thug for hire,” I snap, and Jordan raises his eyebrows in shock. I am not someone who will be walked over, even by my own family.

  “Take some of that hostility and direct it towards the people who don’t understand respect.” I nod, biting my tongue and silently agreeing to do what he asks. “As for the pleasure part… There’s a party going on later tonight, and I want you to attend with me.” I wasn’t normally one to decline a party invite, but today, I wanted nothing else to do except take it easy, maybe even relax a little.

  “I’m not in the mood to party tonight,” I tell my brother, firmly.

  “Christian, you will be in the mood to party tonight. I got you a present, and one you’ve been looking for.” His statement peaks my interest, but before I can even respond, Jordan rises. “Great. I’ll see you at the penthouse. 8 p.m. sharp.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Selena