by Dylan Allen
At least I already know that when it comes to men, I’m an excellent judge of character. Because when I had the freedom to choose one, I picked the best person I’ve ever met - you.
Even now when it’s been so long, you’re still everything to me. I miss you. Your love is the most valuable gift I’ve ever received and I don’t want to give it back. I hope that one day, we’ll find a way to be in each other’s lives.
Right now, though, I’m not ready to be everything else we are without the thing that’s at our core…I know you understand.
I’ll be listening for the beautiful music I know you’re going to make. I hope you’re happy. I hope you have a lot of love in your life, and that you’re not settling for anything less than the amazing things you deserve.
You restored my faith in people, in men, and in myself.
I love you in every way it’s possible to love someone,
Beth
My heart breaks and mends with every sentence.
By the time I’m done, I’m not sure if I want to laugh, cry, or howl at the moon. Holding this letter, reading the words that she wrote to me, imbued with all of her love and wisdom and honesty only sharpens the longing I’ve nursed since I walked out of that church.
She didn’t marry him.
I’ve imagined her signing her name with his last name at the end.
I’ve made myself sick with dread thinking of them alone in a house together, with nothing between her and the spiteful glee he gave me a glimpse of that night.
I scan the letter again and stop when I get to the part about Duke’s role in her brother’s death. It’s tinder for the craving I fight with every day. I plagued with a need to make Duke Tremaine suffer.
I soothe the sharpest growl of it by working obsessively. When I’m done with work, I spend two hours in the gym working out the remnants of my aggression.
But, that was just when I only had my imagination and memories for fuel. Now that I know what he’s done, the workouts and studio time aren’t going to cut it.
I need to do something more. Not that I would pass up an opportunity to get him one on one, but physical retribution wouldn’t be enough. I want him to suffer, what for a man like him, would be insufferable. I want him to have no power, no choice, no freedom. He was born with so much privilege. And he used it to make other people miserable.
Just like the man who spawned me.
My stomach turns queasy when I think about him.
I take a deep breath to try to slow the sudden tripping sprint of my heart. There was a time, before I went to Winsome last summer where feeling this kind of anger scared me because I thought it was the burgeoning of something insidious.
I know better now. If there’s one good thing to come out of of all this, it’s that I know how unimportant DNA is.
Yes, my biological mother took the life of someone she pledged to love. Yes, my biological father is a cruel cold man.
But, they aren’t my parents. And, I am not their son.
My character, my values, my moral compass were all shaped by the people who raised, and by the choices I’ve made for myself.
I fold the letter in half and sit there feeling lighter than I have in a year.
My girl has the heart of a lion. She used the shitty hand she was dealt to inform the kind of life she didn’t want and now, she’s finally on her way to freedom.
From the night she wiped her make up off to show me her beauty mark, to penning this letter on her way out of hell, she’s always showing me what real courage looks like. You don’t master fear by pretending you don’t feel it.
I’ve been so afraid to talk about what happened that I’ve pretended this huge thing didn’t happen. I’ve refused to talk to a man who could be my brother in more than DNA alone. I’ve hurt my brother and best friend and I’ve lied to my family for months.
I’ve lost touch with Beth.
And look what happened the last time I let that happen. I need to find her.
I’ve got new commitments. But, when I told Beth I loved her, I made a commitment to her, too. I meant it then, I mean it now.
I can’t be with her the way I want, but I can be the friend she deserves and make sure that she’s not alone when the real fight lands on her doorstep.
Because it’s coming.
Duke Tremaine and Andrew Wolfe aren’t going to let their golden goose roam free for long. I know that for certain. If Phil is trying to take them down, then I want to help him.
One of my strongest instincts is to protect. When it comes to the people I love, that instinct is a whip at my back. I used to think it made me impulsive, lead me to overreact, so I’ve shied away from it. Not anymore. I’m about to lean into that whip like a motherfucker.
With that resolve firmly in hand, I stand, ready to head back to the studio.
The beep of a key card unlocking my hotel door freezes me mid stride.
Giselle, my disastrous attempt at a one night stand who looked like Beth but wasn’t, walks in. She stops, too — her brown eyes widen as the same surprise I feel is mirrored across her face.
“What are you doing here?” I demand, my eyes moving between the key card on of her hands and the suitcase handle in the other.
“You’re here,” she says and takes a tentative step into the room. She jumps when the door slams shut behind her.
“It’s my hotel room. Of course I’m here.” My voice is stony and she flinches, her eyes dart to the floor.
I thought you were working all day,” she says.
“That doesn’t explain why you’re in my hotel room and how you got a key. Start talking or I’m calling the cops,” I warn.
Her head snaps up. Her panicked eyes fill with tears and her gaunt, pale cheeks flush as she presses her hands together in front of her chest, as if in prayer.
“I’m sorry. Please don’t. I just…I need a place to crash during the day. Just for today. I found your extra key in my stuff and I wasn’t gonna do anything besides shower and sleep. I swear. I’m just…” her eyes cast around the room, restless and anxious. They linger on the bed before they come back to me.
She’s dressed in the same clothes she was wearing the night we met - acid washed jeans that are a size too big, a t-shirt one size too small. She’s got black smudges around her eyes and smears of red lipstick around her lips that look like they’ve been there for days.
She smells like cigarette smoke and beer.
“Did you just get off work?”
She purses her lips together as if I asked her a question she doesn’t want to answer and nods sharply.
“Listen, I’m sorry I bothered you. It’s just…I heard them say your song was playing today. I figured you’d be gone at something to celebrate. I just — Don’t call the cops. I’ll go. Can I— I just please use your bathroom? I’ll be quick and then I’ll be gone.” She’s shivering and I can’t tell if she’s sick, or scared.
Fuck me.
I look at the clock, remember where I was going and why. I don’t want to waste another minute and whatever is going on here is clearly going to take longer than that.
I make a snap decision and pray it doesn’t come back to bite me.
“You can stay here until l get back. Order some food from room service, take a shower, nap, whatever. But don’t touch anything and don’t take anything that you didn’t come with if you decide to leave before I get back.”
As a precaution, I pull out my phone and snap a picture of her.
She flinches at the sudden flash of light and rubs her eyes to clear them. “What—what was that for?”
“It’s so I can show the cops if you dick me over.” I warn and slip my phone into my pocket.
She frowns at my phone, but mutters “fine.”
“I thought you liked taking pictures,” I say sarcastically. She took pictures of me in the shower last time she was here and then, more when we were fucking and I made her delete them.
“I’m sorry about that. And I de
leted them when you asked.”
“I’ll do the same if you’re here when I get back. Don’t touch anything.”
Oh, Brother
“I’m sorry, Jack. For all of it,” I finish my story with that apology and wait for my brother to look at me.
I arrived at his hotel only a couple hours ahead of time because of the cluster fuck in my hotel room. He was dead to the world asleep when I got there. Jack’s always been able to sleep anywhere, anytime, no matter what was happening in his life. He’s also one of those people who wakes up alert and focused.
I just finished telling him the whole story, not leaving anything out, including that I went to her wedding.
Jack’s eyes are trained on a spot over my shoulder, his face a mask of enigmatic concentration. We’ve been sitting like this for five minutes and I’ve been coming out of my skin the entire time.
But I sit, because I know that prodding him will only drag out the wait for him to talk.
“So, Susan Kendicott has two kids, ten years apart with Drew Wolfe? And the one girl you met all summer, randomly at this lake, turns out to be your— I mean, shares DNA with you?” he asks, each word is said slowly and deliberately as if he’s choosing them one at a time.
“Yeah,” I nod, a knot of nausea in my gut as I acknowledge the truth that’s ruined everything.
“That’s a hell of a coincidence, don’t you think?” He asks, his expression still not focused.
“Yeah, I know.”
He finally looks at me, his dark blond brows drawn together in consternation. “I don’t buy it. I really don’t. What are the chances?”
“Well, the DNA test I took say the chances are 99.9%” I remind him patiently for the second time. I’m trying hard to stem my irritation.
I’ve had a whole year to grapple with it. I went through the same mental exercise when I was confronted with the truth. He’s just learned everything, I need to let him work through it, too.
He shakes his head. “Nah.I mean, I guess. But, isn’t there some sort of biological switch or something that makes it so you can’t fall in love with people you’re related to? ”
“It’s something called the Westermarck effect, it’s not biological, but it happens when you grow up in close proximity with your siblings…or with anyone, really. Blood relative or not. It’s why neither of us understand why anyone thinks Nadia’s hot. We know she always farts loud and long first thing in the morning.”
We both grimace at the memory.
“That kind of thing tends to stop people from finding each other attractive - normally, anyway. There are some siblings who grow up together, and still experience Genetic Sexual attraction. But if you don’t grow up together and you meet your sibling it’s very like that you’d be attracted to each other. I’ve read so many stories like ours. One of them - they were married, going through IVF and found out then that they were twins…” I trail off when I realize that Jack is looking at me like I just grew another head.
“What?” I ask flushing under the scrutiny of his gaze
“Uh…you been studying this shit or something?” he asks.
“Yeah, I guess…”
I look around the room to avoid looking at him.
It’s one of the signature suites at this hotel and it’s got a spectacular view of LA. But, it’s still just a hotel room and it feels sterile. I’m really ready to get back to New York and start this tour.
Especially now that I’ve got this new problem waiting for me in my hotel room.
“Earth to Carter,” Jack snaps a finger in my face and I blink.
“Sorry, if I’m keeping you from more important things.” he says dryly.
“No, man. I’m just thinking. This is a lot.”
“Yeah, I’m sure for Beth, too. Phil said she’s been gone on her own for three months. I hope she’s got some support and isn’t walking around as fucked up as you are,” he says.
Embarrassment heats my neck and face with the uncontrollable blush I’ve always lamented.
Until now.
After watching Liz wearing a mask just to survive in her own home, I’m grateful that I’ve always had a safe place to be vulnerable.
My brother didn’t drive to LA to kick my ass.
He drove to LA because he loves me.
Beth doesn’t have that. She was alone in that nest of vipers. She saved herself. I should have at least been there, fighting by her side.
In the space of seconds, my stomach feels like it broken free of what holds it in place in body and my heart is pounding.
I think I’m going to be sick.
She’s been on her own for months. I wonder if she feels alone. She doesn’t know that I’d still move mountains for her. Whatever we can’t be to each other, I can at least be her fucking friend. My heart lurches into my throat.
“Jack, I need to find her,” I say suddenly, sitting up straight.
“Dude, I don’t think that’s a good idea, right now.” He says, and his eyes grow wary.
“Why not?” I ask, my hackles rising at the recrimination his is voice.
“Because you were fucking her and she’s your sister. You haven’t dated anyone since her, right?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?” I narrow my eyes at him and watch him intently, as he starts to squirm.
He rubs the back of his neck and looks away, this time not in anger, but to the discomfort in his eyes.
“See, this is why I didn’t tell you. Not because I don’t trust you, but because I knew you’d make that fucking face. Like there was something wrong with the way I feel about her.”
His rears back like I slapped him. His discomfort is replaced by incredulity.
Just like that, the small peace we’d started building, cracks.
“There is something wrong with it, Carter. But I don’t think it’s your fault and I’m sorry that you’re going through this. I know you care about her. But it’s illegal.” The recrimination is gone from his voice, but I find it preferable to the condescension that’s replaced it.
I sit up straight and look him in the eye.
“Not in New Jersey. Or Ohio.”
He leans away, blinking in surprise.“Carter, you can’t fuck your sister,” he says in a grave, scandalized voice.
I ignore his crass characterization. “I went to Texas thinking I wanted answers about my past. But what I was really looking for was reassurance. I wanted to find something good in my bloodlines. The only good I found was Beth. She was raised by him. I wasn’t. And yet, neither one of us are like him. I know DNA means nothing, except for the physical connection. And if I’m being completely honest, there’s a part of me that hopes…I don’t know… that she’ll change her mind. That she’ll decide she doesn’t care. Because I don’t. Jack. If she’d have me, I’d drop everything to be with her.”
His expression grows pained and he runs a hand over his suddenly pale face before he assesses with stark sorrow in his eyes.
“Cater, man. I’m so sorry,” he says with empathy that’s rare for him.
“Me, too. But she’s made it clear she only wants to be friends.”
“That letter was from her?”
“Yeah. But it doesn’t say how to reach her. Our tour starts next month and then I’ll be gone for another three. How will I find her?”
“You can ask Phil. He’s looking for you because he wants your help with something. He came to us because he said he couldn’t wait for you to get your head out of your ass and call him. Whatever it is, it’s time sensitive.”
Guilt at how my childish avoidance of Phil has cost us both precious time assails me. But I push it aside, I can self-flagellate later. Right now, I want to find out where Liz is and what we’re going to do about bringing justice to the two criminals walking free.
“I’ll call him.”
One side of his mouth lifts in his trademark smirk before he pulls his phone out.
“I’ll do you one better. I told him you’d be he
re at 8 pm. But, let me see if he’s free now.”
I surge to my feet in surprise and look around the room even though I know we’re alone.
“He’s here?” I ask, suddenly nervous at facing him properly for the first time since he came back into the picture.
“No, he’s in Austin. He couldn’t get away. But you should return his fucking call, C. He’s a decent guy who gives a shit about you and Beth. And he’s trying to bury those crazy assholes in Texas. He says he needs your help.”
Shame washes over me, but I know it’s pointless to give that any energy right now. I want to focus on what I’ll do from here out.
“I’ll call him tonight.”
He nods in approval. “Cool, and once you’re done with him, you can to talk to mom.”
I groan at the knot of apprehension that forms in my gut just imagining that conversation.
“Does she know all this already?” I ask, hoping they’ll say yes.
Jack’s head shake in the negative is completely unsympathetic. “Nope, that honor is going to be all yours. You owe her that conversation. And it should be face to face.”
My shoulders droop under the weight of my resignation, but I nod in agreement.
“I’ve got a couple of weeks left out here. I can’t bail. Not when we’re still doing so much promo for the launch.”
His eyebrows draw together as he fixes me with a menacing glare.
“As soon as you can. If Penn finds out from anyone but you, it’ll devastate her. And then I’ll have to devastate you.”
I roll my eyes, dismissing his threat.
“Don’t act like you forgot how I used to kick your ass, Carter,” he punches my shoulder.
“Yeah, when I was a scrawny 6’2 and 150 pounds.”
He leans in and wraps his arm around my neck in a choke hold. “Just cause you’ve got some weight on you doesn’t mean I can’t still take you.”
He’s been 6’4 and built since he was thirteen and he’s always used his size to his advantage. My mother joked that his rough housing was how he expressed his love. The tension between us has fallen away as quickly as it came.
