[Ryan]

I try my dad again. When I get one of his many secretaries, I don’t leave a message. I’ve already left three. For a man who claims to need to talk to me, he’s sure as hell not making much of an effort. Then again, he never has.

There’s only one other person who’ll understand how hard it is to have Stuart Ryan as a father. As much as I hate the idea, I need to talk this through with someone who’ll get it. I tap my brother’s number.

“Go for Derek.”

I roll my eyes, already regretting the decision to call him. Hearing his voice convinces me to hang up. What was I thinking? Derek wouldn’t sympathize. He’d only find a way to hold this against me like he does everything else.

My phone buzzes and I check the number, irritated he called me back. I debate ignoring the call, but then decide to take it. I’ll tell him it was a butt dial. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to call you.”

“Bullshit, bro. You don’t call me. Like, ever. Don’t even try to pass this off as something you didn’t mean to do. What’s up with you?”

“I’m just…” I laugh into the air, pissed I can’t even talk to my own flesh and blood. “I’m having a really bad day.”

“What’d he do?”

“Who?”

“Don’t even. We have one thing in common. Our last name and our parents.”

“That’s two things. Three, technically, if you count Mom and Dad separately.” Why I feel the need to correct him, I have no idea.

“Don’t be a dick,” Derek barks. That’s usually my line. “If you called to take out whatever’s got you so pissed on me, I’m hanging up. We haven’t talked since Christmas. You could at least pretend to give a shit.”

“I do.” I groan and close my eyes, feeling like shit. “I’m just…”

“You’re having a bad day.”

“I’m having a really bad day.”

“And we’ve come full circle. What’d he do?”

His question opens the floodgates. I unleash, needing to talk to someone before I explode. “I finally have a chance to do what I want, to be something, you know? Just when I’m finally there, Dad steps in and yanks it away like he does everything else.”

“Uh…” He spends far too many seconds in silence. “We’re not talking sex, right?”

“No, Derek. We’re not talking sex.” I’m back to wanting to hang up on him.

“Good, cuz that’d just be weird.”

How can we even be related? “Never mind. Forget I called.”

“Dude, chill.” He laughs. The son of a bitch actually laughs. God, I hate my brother. “It was a joke.”

“You know that’s what he does, right?” When he doesn’t say anything, I go into more detail. “He changes the subject whenever it’s something he doesn’t want to talk about.”

Derek sighs. “Yeah, I know. Low blow…uh…bro.”

That’s about as serious as it gets with my brother. Right now, I’ll take it. I collapse to the couch and rest my head on the back cushion. As much as I want to tell him about TREX, my instructions were clear. It’s not exactly bragging, but it is admitting to a covert agency. I’m sure that’s against the rules.

Then again, if our dad knows about TREX, what are the chances Derek does, too? I decide to test that theory. “Have you ever heard of tactical retrieval experts?”

“Tactical what?”

That answers the question. “Never mind.”

“Is that like a video game or something?”

“I said never mind.”

“You’re being weird. I mean, even weirder than normal.”

“Derek,” I growl, something I don’t usually do—unless I’m dealing with my family.

“Why are you asking about TREX?” His question, so direct, catches me off-guard. He’s using a tone I rarely hear from my brother—concern.

When I realize he called the agency by name, my heart rate picks up. “You do know about them.”

“I never said I did.”

“I never called them by name,” I counter.

He sighs, long and hard. And then he groans. “Come on, Harry.” I cringe at the name. He knows I hate it. My name is Harold. Or, as Emma has named me, Ryan. I like Ryan. I don’t like Harold. I hate Harry.

“Are you with them?”

“You mean am I a TREX agent?” He laughs. “That would be a no.”

“Why do you say it like that?”

“Are you shitting me? With our family’s history, you can ask that?”

I still as my pulse thuds in my ears. Our family’s history? What’s that even mean? I play it down in the hopes he’s too dimwitted to pick up on the fact I have no idea what he’s talking about. “I just figured, you know…”

“Don’t believe everything you hear.”

“I want to hear it from you.” I have no idea what I’m doing and hope I’m not somehow breaking yet another unwritten rule by baiting my brother into admitting something above my pay grade. Then again, since I’m out of the internship program, I’m not getting paid anyway. That’s a good enough justification for me.

“Hear what? What do you want me to say?”

I take it a step deeper. “They tried to recruit me.”

“What?” His tone changes from annoyed to guarded. “When?”

“Does it matter?”

“Hell, yeah. It matters. Look, I get you don’t like being a part of this family. I mean, what’s to like about private schools, getting into the college of your choice, or graduating with a degree you can actually use.”

“I get it,” I snap. “We have money. We have connections.”

“We have power,” he adds without missing a beat. “Being a Ryan means a lot more than a fat net worth. It’s not you they want. It’s the fact you’re a Ryan. TREX wants to exploit that. You think you’re the first Ryan they’ve come after?”

“You?”

“Don’t sound so shocked. Just be careful, little bro. Don’t buy the bullshit they’re selling.”

Great. As if I don’t have enough turmoil turning my world upside down. Let’s add doubt over why a covert agency sought me out. I’m the least popular brother in my frat. My grades are decent but won’t be getting me a scholarship into grad school. I’m not even sure I want to go to grad school. College hasn’t exactly been better than high school. Not everyone enjoyed high school like Jason Bowman. Like Derek Ryan.

I think about that. Derek went to the University of Washington. Jason went to the UW, as well. Did they know each other? “Do you recognize the name Bowman?”

“No,” he answers fast. Too fast. “Look, man. It’s a Saturday night. I’ve got plans. You’ve got your little online friends. God forbid you actually venture out of that portable you call a house and interact with real humans.”

“I happen to have a girlfriend,” I admit before I can stop myself. I want to prove to him I’m not as pathetic as he thinks.

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s her name?”

“Emma. I met her at a bar.”

He perks up. “You went to a bar?”

“I brought her home from the bar.” Why I keep going, I have no idea, only that I finally have something to talk to him about. For once, he’s actually listening to me. “She stayed the night and even cooked me breakfast the next morning.”

“Dude, you nailed her and got a free meal out of it? Nicely done, bro. Proud of you. There just might be a normal dude hidden somewhere underneath all that weirdness. I gotta bounce. Stay, uh… See ya.”

“See ya.” I end the call and fight the twist in my gut. My brother is proud of me for the first time in, well, ever. I hate the reason why. He doesn’t give a shit about me. He barely gave two shits about some covert agency trying to recruit me. No, what he cares about above all that is the fact I took a girl home from a bar. That, right there, says everything about Derek Ryan.

I contemplate calling my dad and decide against it. Dealing with one pain in the ass Ryan in one day is enough. I’ll try him tomorrow. I still have several hours before I need to be online for my Saturday night gaming tournament. We get together every Saturday night. Without permission, Derek’s words register. You’ve got your little online friends.

They’re the only friends I have. Well, aside from Emma. Hating that realization, I grab my coat. If I’m going to become some sort of player women can’t get enough of, I need to break out of my comfort zone. Gaming, online friends, is all I know.

It’s time I venture into the unknown.