by Ivy Fox
“I mean, don’t you guys miss her? Because I do. I’m fucking going crazy without her.”
“Cam,” Michael hushes next to me, trying to caution Cam against his chosen topic of conversation since it’s the very reason why I needed to stop our journey home in the first place.
“I thought this trip would clear my head, not muddy it up further. I never wanted to go back home from a run as much as I did on this one,” he continues, still focused on his shot glass.
“We get it, Cam. We all feel like that.” Michael exhales, running his fingers through his beard.
“You too, big guy?” Cam asks, turning his face toward me, looking younger than I’ve ever thought possible for a man as lethal as him. I give him a silent nod, and he goes back to staring at his tequila.
“She has nightmares, you know—vicious motherfuckers. And we’ve been gone for a whole month, leaving her alone to deal with it on her own. Did you know she was still having those dreams just like when she first arrived at the house? The same ones where we thought she must be reliving shit from the night those motherfuckers buried her alive in the woods. Did you know?” Cam throws the accusations over at Michael.
“Yeah, I knew,” I hear Michael sullenly say beside me.
“Then why didn’t you ever say anything to me? You know I sleep like the dead. If you said something to me, I could have been there for her,” Cam snarks out bitterly, slamming his fist on the counter, upset he wasn’t there for her then or for her now.
“I didn’t say anything because it was not your time to be with her,” Michael retorts coldly.
“Not my time? What does that even fucking mean, Michael?”
“It means it was Gabriel’s time with Hope. Leave it at that, Cam,” he informs, and I gulp down my water, not wanting to look either brother in the eye with Michael’s confession. I shouldn’t be surprised he knew I watched over her every night. Michael knows everything about everything. He probably is all too aware of Cam’s late night rendezvous with Hope, too, and he wasn’t even in the house at the time.
“Shit,” Cam mutters out under his breath, and we all grow quiet until Cam decides he should have the floor again. “We’re so screwed. So what are we supposed to do? We’re three, she’s only one. We suppose to fight for her or something? Not gonna lie, but I’m not liking my odds.”
“It’s not going to come to that,” Michael replies, his tone strained, showing the first signs of losing his patience with our overenergetic brother.
“You sure? Cause I’m looking at the future pretty neatly, and I think this is the first time I want the girl, and I have no way of keeping her if you two are in the mix.”
“Cam, shut up already. We’re brothers. Our bond is unbreakable,” Michael answers him, drinking his beer, probably hoping the alcohol will make this conversation easier to bear.
“Yeah, I know that, but I’m starting to think this shit we’re feeling for Hope feels pretty fucking unbreakable, too.”
I shift in my seat, feeling my chest tighten further, and the grunt I was holding in makes itself known to the two men at my side.
“See? Even the big guy agrees with me.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, Cam. Enough!” Michael orders, ready to end this convo, but Cam is having none of it as I see him shaking his head from left to right with a whole vocabulary ready to be spilled out on our laps.
“Cam…” Michael warns, threatening to stand up from his seat and put our brother in his place, ending this conversation once and for all, but I place my hand on Michael’s shoulder, preventing him from getting up. I needed to come into this bar to get my shit together before facing Hope for the first time in weeks, but apparently, Cam needed to vomit all his doubts with us first, too.
“No, no, no, Michael. I think we need to talk about this. We’ve all been walking on eggshells when it comes to Hope, and I for one need to hash this out.”
“Go on,” I tell him.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he says.
“Well, that’s a first,” Michael snorts, but Cam just flips him off.
“And this past month, being away from home and all, well, it made one thing abundantly clear to me.”
“And that is?” I press him on.
“That I love her. I mean, I love her, love her. Now I don’t know if she feels the same way, and God knows if she will ever, but I just wanted you two to know,” Cam states, and the look on his face is a mix of pride, fear, and that almighty love he’s on about. My damned chest tightens yet again since I recognize the look in his eye to be identical to the one I see in myself every day when I look in the mirror and listen to those voice messages of hers.
Michael takes a pull of his beer, silent all of a sudden, and I keep my eyes focused on the glass before me, watching the beads of clear water slide right down until they meet their final destination.
“You guys have anything to say?” Cam asks, not masking his nerves.
“What do you want us to say, Cam?” Michael asks him, a little bite to his words.
“I mean, I just want to know if I’m alone in this? Am I the only one that feels this way, or do I have competition to worry about? I know for a fact you both want to bang her, but I guess what I’m asking is, fuck…”
I snort at his little comment, and I see the first trace of a smile dawn on Michael’s lips.
“I’d say you’re right on both accounts,” Michael provokes.
“Shit, I knew it. Fuck my life. How the hell am I supposed to compete with Mr. Dark Brooding and Handsome over here, and Mr. Archangel Legacy himself?” Cam sulks in his seat.
My heart softens at his worried tone. Yeah, I would be sulking in the corner, too, if I thought someone else could steal Hope’s affection away from me.
I put my hand on Cam’s shoulder reassuringly.
“You worry too much.”
“That’s just the thing, Gabe. I never worry. I NEVER fucking worry. You get that, right? You get this woman has got me so twisted up inside that I’m not even thinking straight. Have you kissed her?” he asks so out of left field, it takes me a minute to even register the question. I shake my head, saddened at the reality that I’ve never touched her lips.
“Have you?” Cam directs his question to Michael, and he too shakes his head, which must relieve Cam somewhat, since his shoulders immediately drop from their tense state, and the smile, which usually can be found on his face, finally makes an appearance.
“However, there was one time in the shower where Gabe and I did…” Michael starts, and Cam drinks his shot in one go.
“Oh, fuck me sideways! Barkeep, give me another shot of tequila, pronto,” he yells, and Michael and I laugh under our breath. My eyes fall on the bartender as he fills my friend’s shot glass to the brim, until the image behind him on the flat screen comes into focus and burns my blood ice cold.
“Turn that up.”
“What?” he asks, but his attention is on the tittie show behind me. I pull on his collar and grunt in his ear, “I said turn the fucking volume of the television up.”
“Okay, okay!” he says, waving his hands in the air and then immediately increases the volume for us to hear. And the following images, along with the words from the journalist, makes for the most life-altering five minutes we three have ever experienced in our lives.
District attorney Andrew Mayfield had a win this afternoon after the court found Lucas Palamazio, Anthony Sabelli, and Nico Saccone guilty of extortion, money laundering, and theft, amongst many other crimes. Most notoriously, kidnapping and murder as per Detective Benjamin Zappa’s detailed testimony. DA Mayfield attributes this victory over the mafia family Palamazio entirely on Detective Zappa’s six-year undercover investigation and the solid evidence he was able to incur during that time.
His contribution, although heroic, did have its fallbacks and heavy burdens, as most viewers know. Twenty-three-year-old Jennifer Zappa, the detective’s wife, was reportedly kidnapped
last April and murdered, to scare the detective into silence and prevent him from testifying on this case. Although her body has yet to be discovered, all evidence points to the Palamazio’s family involvement and foul play at hand.
Mrs. Zappa, previously known as Jen Russo, had met the detective, while he worked undercover, through—ironically enough—her foster brother, Nico Saccone, the very man Zappa was able to incarcerate today for the next fifty years for his crimes. It is believed that Saccone became suspicious of Zappa being the mysterious witness on this case, and allegedly kidnapped Jennifer Zappa to intimidate the detective.
Unfortunately, details are still unclear of what became of her, as Saccone insists that he is innocent of said charges pertaining to his foster sister, yet will not divulge on how he came to be ID’d as the man who pawned Mrs. Zappa’s wedding ring the same day of her disappearance. Sabelli and Palamazio have also gone on record denying any wrongdoing, although they have also done the same for other crimes where evidence was too damaging for a jury of their peers to give them an innocent verdict today.
All three men will now spend the rest of their days at State Correctional Institution in Graterford, although a bittersweet ending to the detective who gave more than six years of his life for this arrest; he also lost the love of his life. A hero, who gave more in the line of duty than many are willing to lose in the fight against crime. This is Avery Myers for NKP news in Philadelphia. Back to you, Jim.
I am not a man of many words; I don’t pretend to be. But never in my life has something robbed me of thought, sense, and reasoning, where stringing a sentence together seemed the least of my worries.
“That wasn’t her!” Cam shouts, raising from his seat, but Michael and I are either too stunned or too morose to move.
“I’m telling you guys, that woman was not our Hope! She’s blonde, for crying out loud!” he continues to belt, madly pacing the floor behind us.
“It looked like her,” I whisper under my breath, surprised at myself with how I’m admitting to my own ruin, my eyes still fixed on the screen watching some laundry detergent commercial, instead of the images of the blonde waif-like woman dressed in her wedding gown the news channel had made a point of showing over and over again.
“No! No! No, Gabriel, that was not her! Hope is not fucking married! No fucking way!” Cam’s grief-stricken roar slashes through my own misery.
“Calm the fuck down, Cam,” Michael orders, but the once-authoritative tone is long gone, and in its place is only its shadow.
“Michael, I am calm. You two assholes are just not listening to me. I see it in your eyes. You think that woman on the screen was Hope, but I’m telling you, Jennifer or whatever you want to call her, is not my Hope,” he proclaims, and I hear the prayer in his words as I make my own.
Please, little bird. Don’t be her.
“Cam, it makes sense though, don’t you think? Mafia and all? The way she was disposed of?”
“No.” Cam shakes his head.
“She was so banged up. It smells like a job, doesn’t it?” Michael reasons and it’s the first time I’ve ever felt anything close to hatred toward my beloved brother.
“No.” Cam holds strong.
“And the timing is oddly accurate to her appearance at the house.”
“Michael, please. No,” Cam whispers, pain thickening his voice. Michael stands from his seat and takes Cam into his arms, and this is when I register that Cam must have been pacing the room so we wouldn’t see him shaking, as he is now in Michael’s embrace.
“Okay, okay. Let me think. Just give me a minute,” Michael finally speaks out, placing a firm hand on the back of Cam’s head, comforting him the only way he can, by offering hope where there may not be any. After Cam has regained some control, we all sit back at the counter, and instead of the minute Michael had requested, a full three hours go by, looking into the void, thinking and wallowing in our misfortune, praying Michael will somehow come up with some miracle to make this all go away.
“Let’s go home,” he finally voices out.
“What about that?” I ask, pointing to the TV.
“I want to go home. I want to see our girl and spend some quality time with her. Be home at least a couple of days, and then I’ll go and pay detective Zappa a visit. See for myself and investigate who this Jennifer is, and if there is any possibility she’s our Hope,” Michael explains, looking as tired and defeated as we feel.
“So, do we tell her?” I ask, and I see Cam fist his hands to his side, not liking the idea any.
“We’re not telling her anything until we have proof. I don’t want to get her hopes up. We might not like this turn of events, but Hope, not knowing who she is or where she came from, might feel differently if she were offered such new information,” Michael scolds.
I nod, understanding how this information, whether good or bad for us, is still crucial for Hope. She shouldn’t live her life full of questions and not have any answers. We might not like it, but Hope is more important to our own wants.
“And you,” Michael looks over at Cam, “if you love her like you say you do, then if this shit is real, you will not pressure her in any way. Love is not a bully, Cam. You don’t cage the person you love with it. She makes up her own mind. Makes her own choice. You feel me?”
“Yeah, I feel you, brother,” Cam replies confidently, and I know straight away if this shit is real, he’ll always choose Hope’s happiness above his own.
See how you made us all fall in love with you, little bird?
Your name is now tattooed on our very soul, but what will become of us if you’re not ours, but his?
“Well, I guess we should be looking on the bright side,” Cam says, taking his last shot and slamming it on the bar counter.
“Which is?” I ask, putting on my jacket, ready to get out of this place and go home.
“At least now we know she’s legal,” he replies with a nervous laugh, trying to make light of the situation, which is his default setting in uncomfortable situations. From my periphery, I see Michael roll his eyes, but the hint of a smile is also there.
“Let’s get our asses home, guys. We have a lot of catching up to do,” he says, patting both our backs, and it’s the first order Michael’s given today that I’m actually excited about.
When we see Alleghany Forest on the horizon, I don’t have to look at my brothers to feel their anxiousness to race our way home. I add fuel to the handle and provoke Michael to speed us up. Our gate never looked so fine, and the dirt path that leads the way to our house is a blessed view indeed. The sound of our bikes must be heard from miles away, but the only person who makes their way out to greet us is the one we have been yearning to lay our eyes on for the past month. Cam has barely stopped his bike, and he’s already running to pick our woman up in his arms. The sound of her joy almost hurts as much as it soothes my soul.
“Cam, put me down, you silly man,” she shrieks in his arms.
“Not a chance, woman! I’ve been dreaming about this for weeks now,” he says, still holding her tight, waving her about like some little rag doll. Her little squeals of pure pleasure only incite him further, until Michael and I are next to him wanting our own welcome home.
Cam puts her down on the ground, and her face is glowing in delight, unable to hide her big smile. Michael reaches her in two steps and takes her in his arms, his embrace much more contained compared to my other brother.
“How have you been, Hope?” I hear him ask.
“Good. Better now,” she answers, her eyes closed as she’s breathing him in. He lets go of her, but not before he places a small, chaste kiss on her forehead, which only widens her smile. She turns her face toward me, and I’m frozen still, unsure of what she expects me to do. She takes three steps and grabs my hands in both of hers, as if I’m a treasure she had lost or buried somewhere and now was restored to its rightful owner.
“I’m glad you’re home, Gabriel,” she says, her lashes butterflying in a way t
hat makes my own gut twist. I just nod, hoping she won’t be offended with my lack of words. With the small twinkle in her eyes, I see my silence continues not to bother her in any way.
“Come, come, I have so much to show you,” she starts rushing toward the house.
“Wait, wait. Hope, just stop a minute,” Cam says, halting her step, holding onto her elbow.
“What is it?”
“Can you just stop and let us look at you?” he pleads, and then places his hand on her swollen belly, and that’s when I see it. Hope’s body has changed so much. Long gone is the thin woman who looked like a frail wind would break every bone in her body. In her place is a woman with more curves than I can count. Breasts so full, a man can lose himself in them for days. An ass that begs to be bitten and loved, but what’s more beautiful than that, is the place where Cam is lovingly caressing. A beautiful baby bump that proudly showcases the child she is growing inside of her.
“I missed it. We missed so fucking much,” I hear Cam rush out.
“What are you talking about?” Hope asks, her brows furrowing in confusion.
“Nothing,” Michael interjects, throwing a scowl at Cam for him to bring it down a notch, not to upset Hope in any way.
“Nothing, darling. I just like seeing you carry this little bump around. Just sad I didn’t see you grow into your fine ass,” Cam taunts, trying to recover from his previous moment of vulnerability.
“Don’t ever talk about a pregnant woman’s behind, if you know what’s good for you, Cam,” she raises her brows in warning.
“How I missed that feisty attitude, too. Now give me some sugar, darling. No? I’ve been on the road dreaming of at least a welcome-home kiss, you going to stand there looking like a drop of high heaven and leave a thirsty man begging for your sweet, juicy lips?” Cam teases, pulling her into his arms. Her cheeks turn pink in the most precious of ways, and when she leans into him and gives him an innocent peck on the cheek, it still swells my cock tenfold, no matter how demure she intends it to be.
“So, are you done looking at me? Can I show you my surprise, or what?” she says defiantly, placing her hands on his chest and gaining some distance from my overeager brother.
