Birch

Heat from the sun warmed my face, forcing my eyes to crack open. A delicate moan filled my ears and I looked down to find Cyprus snuggled up in my arms.

Smiling to myself, I hugged her harder, forcing her as close to my heart as I could. That was where she belonged, she's always belonged right there beside me.

I wouldn't be the man I was without her.

“Good morning,” she mumbled, her eyes half open as she yawned with a smile.

“Morning,” I said, kissing the top of her head and smiling back. “How did you sleep?”

“Actually, I slept better than I ever remember.” Swirling her finger in the center of my chest, she arched her head up. “It's weird, you'd think all of this would make it harder, but I feel a sense of relief now. There's no more questions or wondering keeping me awake.”

“That's a good thing then, I'm really happy you have some closure.” Tipping my head back, I listened to the birds chirping outside the window and the sound of cars in the distance streaming down the highway.

I was hearing things that I'd normally ignore, sounds that had once seemed unimportant. Was I different? Had I changed when the walls came down and there was nothing standing between us?

Maybe I'm better because of this.

Voices from downstairs drew my head up, my ears perked and curious about who was in our home. Glancing at the clock, it was only eight in the morning, there was no reason for anyone to be here.

“Do you here that?” Looking down at Cyprus, she nodded, tilting her head towards the door.

“Who is your dad talking to?”

“The hell if I know.” Shifting my arm free, I pushed up in the bed and looked around for my shirt.

“Are you going to go see?”

“Yeah, I want to check it out, make sure nothing is wrong.” Tossing my legs out of bed, I grabbed my shirt off the floor and pulled it on.

There was absolutely no reason for anyone to be there. My father only invited the elite few he trusted, and even then, he wouldn't have them over that early in the morning.

Standing in the doorway, I listened to my father and another man talking. I couldn't make out what they were saying, and my father didn't seem to be upset or angry at whoever had shown up.

Leaving the room, I studied the voices and tones. No one was getting loud, and my father was speaking the same way he always did. He sounded calm, not unnerved or unsure about the guest he had let in. But that didn't mean shit.

Could it be someone from Antoine's family? Did someone come here looking for them?

Word had spread like wildfire, and everyone who needed to know or cared to know, were aware that they hadn't been seen since our meeting. Most wouldn't dare to question our family about it, only the police had the generic balls needed to bring us in and tempt our freedom with shit they really had no evidence for.

But there was always the chance someone else had stepped up the ranks and would try to shake us down for answers. A new body, trying to make a name for themselves in our world.

Walking down the stairs, I called out, “Dad? Is everything alright?”

Hitting the bottom step, I turned my head to look in the living room and found my father sitting on the couch with two men in suits and a police officer over his shoulder.

My heart sank, chest constricting as I debated between running back upstairs to warn Cyprus or yelling at them to get the fuck out.

I didn't have time to choose as all the men turned my way, their faces still and expressionless.

“Birch, good, you're up. Come on in and sit for a minute.” My father waved his hand, nodding his head to the over-sized chair next to the couch.

“What the hell is going on?” Cautiously, I stepped to the chair and placed my hands on the back. I didn't want to sit down, there wasn't a bone in my body that felt relaxed enough to lounge in a chair like this was a family gathering.

“Birch, I'm Detective Jones, and this is Detective Gouff.”

“I know who you fucking are, why are you in our house?” Clenching my teeth, my hands balled up, ready to grab him by the collar and kick his ass out.

He wasn't welcomed in my home, they were never welcomed here.

Why is my dad sitting and talking with them? Why isn't he telling them to go fuck themselves?

“Dad, do something here, tell them to leave.”

My father arched his brows and cleared his throat as his hands ran up and down his thighs. “Birch—”

Holding up his hand to stop my father from talking, the detective inserted his own words. “We're here because your father asked us to be. He's got a long story that he's ready to share, and we're eager to hear it.”

What the hell does that mean?

My father would never willingly talk to the police. It was something he tried to avoid like the plague. It didn't matter how much they pushed and pressed him for information about any of the shit they thought he was a part of; he never said a word.

He's lying. This motherfucker is full of shit.

“Why haven't you told this dick to go fuck himself?”

The officer dressed in full gear took a step forward, drifting his hand to hover over his gun. “Watch your mouth.”

“Watch my mouth? You're in my fucking house, and you don't belong here. You can't tell me how to talk in my own home.”

“Enough,” my dad snapped, cutting the air with his hand. “He's telling you the truth, Birch.” His eyes jerked to mine, the seriousness in his gaze stabbing me in the chest like a serrated blade.

Why? Why would he do this?

“What the fuck is going on? What the hell are you doing, Dad?” Curling my fingers into the plush fabric of the chair, I felt my knees start to buckle. “Why?”

“I'm getting old, Birch, it's time to finish this.” His eyes went cloudy as he forced a thin smile. “These guys were nice enough to wait here so I could tell you myself.”

“Tell me what? What the fuck is going on? What the hell are you doing?” The inside of my head began to spin with all the things we had been a part of together, and all the things he had done before I came along.

They're going to put us away for life!

Don't you get that? Don't you understand what you're doing?

I wanted to scream at him to just stop all of this. He didn't have to do anything, not now, not today. We should have talked about this first, we should have sat down as a family and decided what to do.

Because this didn't just affect him, it affected all of us.

But he didn't, and I shouldn't have been surprised by that.

Adjusting his suit, my father pressed his hands into his knees and stood up. His demeanor was different, he didn't look like himself. It was like he stood taller, his back rigid and firm as he held his chin up high.

“It's over, all of this over. I'm finally going to do what I should have done a long time ago. Maybe if I had, shit wouldn't have gotten so out of hand.” The hardness his eyes always had faded away. He looked so tired, like he wanted nothing more than to just lay his head down and sleep for eternity.

“I don't understand.”

What was he ending exactly?

What was over?

Deep down I knew what he was saying, but accepting it meant accepting what came with it. I wasn't ready to do that.

No. No you can't! Don't do that!

I stood staring at him with gaping eyes, trying to make him see that what he was doing was wrong. He didn't have to do it this way. There was always another way.

I wished he had come to me first, we could have talked about this, we could have fixed it ourselves.

We could have left and started over if he really wanted things to change. Cyprus had given me that same out not long ago, she had asked about leaving and starting over. I hadn't taken the time to really listen to her because it was burned into my brain that this was my life, it was our life.

I never imagined that it was something we could change, the thought had never crossed my mind that it could ever be a plausible option for our family to just pick and leave.

And now that was all I could focus on.

Standing in front of me, my father rested his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Let me do this, it's what I need to do. For you, for Cyprus. . . for your mother. I don't want to be this anymore, I'm ready.”

I felt like a boy again, small and weak beneath my father. My eyes started water, and I felt a single tear drop free. If he did this, I knew I'd never see him again. We'd never have another holiday together, he'd never be a grandfather to my children.

My head was shaking, telling him not to do it. All he had to do was allow himself to see the pain that this decision was going to cause.

Don't! Please don't do this!

But I could see it in his eyes; this wasn't up to me. This was his choice; his salvation from his demons, his healing for the suffering he had caused; he was saving us.

It was written all over his face. He was giving himself to set us free, my father was selflessly feeding himself to lions to clean our souls. My father was about to give up everything for the ones he loved.

I understand. . . I know what you're doing.

Nodding, I asked. “What do you need from me?”

“Nothing, just live your life, Birch. Do everything and anything you've ever wanted. When you were little I used to imagine that you'd grow up and be just like me, but it's not what I thought it would be at all. I want more for you and Cyprus, I want you two to live your own life, not mine.” Smiling, he shifted on his feet to face the detectives. “Alright, let's go.”

The detective rose up off the couch and wrapped his hand around my father's arm, guiding him towards the door. Glancing at me over his shoulder, he said, “Tell Cyprus to call me.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his card and handed it to me behind his back. “I know she's got questions, and I have a few answers I need to give her.”

I didn't answer him, simply giving him an understanding nod. Following them to the front door, I stood there and watched them put my father in the back of the cruiser. My chest was a mix of hot and cold as I breathed in and cursed everything he was about to do.

Nothing will ever be the same.

I'm losing the my father just like I lost my mother. There will never be a future for us again.

That thought shifted something deep in my gut, it forced me to finally understand the loss Cyprus had been dealing with for all these years. I thought I understood what she felt, I thought I could give her what she was missing.

I've been lying to myself.

My father was wrong for everything that he had done. He could never fix her, no matter how much he wanted to.

Because we were never truly hers to begin with. And nothing could ever replace the bond between a child and their parents.

Fingers startled me as Cyprus crept up behind me and curled herself into my back. “What's happening? Where are they taking him?”

“He's giving them what they want.” My father's eyes stayed on mine as the car pulled away. “And I think he's actually relieved about finally ending all of this.”

“I'm sorry, Birch. I'm sorry I caused this.”

“No,” I barked, twisting on my heels and cupping her small round face. “Don't you ever apologize for a damn thing. You didn't cause this, he chose it.”

“I just feel like it's my fault, I kinda lost it.”

Holding her face in my hands, my brows knitted. “You deserved the truth from the very beginning. We both lied to you, you have the right to feel the way you do.”

“So what happens now?” Her fingers teased the hem of my shirt, eyes glassy and lost.

Pulling her head into my chest, I wrapped my arms around her back. “We just keep going.”

“What will we do?” I felt her voice as it ruffled my shirt and the warmth of her breath as it heated my skin.

“Start over, just like you wanted to.” Running my fingers though her hair, I kissed the top of her head. “I love you, it's time for us to change.”

Cyprus had been right, we didn't have to do any of this.

But I was blind. Blinded by comfort of what's familiar. Blinded by family laws that had ruled my life. I was blinded by everything that didn't really matter.

We didn't need this life to be happy.

I already had the one thing that made me who I was. It wasn't my name, it wasn't my father, it wasn't the brutality of power we thrived on. . .

I had Cyprus, she was my happiness.

And it took me far too long to realize that.