Chapter Sixteen

Respect

Garrett

“You think we should go help your mom make breakfast?” I hope to hell I can get Brand to ease up on her, and not because I want her to stay, although I do, but because it’s just not fucking right.

“She can handle it,” he jokes.

I look at Gage, wanting to tear him up, wanting to put him in his fucking place, because it’s obvious he’s made a place to shove Juliana in. Then I think about how I might handle it. Probably no fucking different. Damn it.

“How about you go get dressed for breakfast, then.” Mags nods toward the stairs.

Brand hops up. “Okay, but no one is leaving, right?” He looks at me.

“Nope, we’re all staying right here,” I tell him.

As soon as he’s up the stairs, I make eye contact with Gage.

“Boys...” Mags must sense that both of us are at our wit’s end and are about to take it out on each other. She connects her eyes with mine. “If Brand is good with accepting you, then you should try to do the same for Juliana.”

“I am,” I defend.

She gives me a look. “He can sense the tension.”

No fucking shit, I think, looking at Gage, who is looking down. He’s made her the villain more than I have.

Mags squeezes my knee. “This is up to you.”

Angry, I look at her, and she mouths, “This is up to you.”

“Excuse me.” Gage stands and walks out of the room.

I look at Mags. “I’m not—”

“Oh, my boy.” She smiles and touches the side of my face. “It’s your time to shine.”

“But—”

“Brand, Juliana, and your brother...” she pauses then continues, “need you. Shine, Garrett, shine.”

I sit and consider her words as she grabs her cane, stands, and makes her way to Gage’s office.

I know exactly what she means. She’s not choosing Gage’s side, probably never was all those years I thought she was. But now, I need to be stronger and make damn sure I fix this and do it right.

Brand bounds down the stairs, dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt with a hat on his head, the one I gave him days ago.

“Can we build a fence?” He beams.

“We can eat breakfast first; your mom’s making it.” I smile.

“She’ll understand,” he says as if it’s expected.

“I’m starving.” I lean down and whisper, “And she’s expecting us. She’s your mom, Brand. We gotta do what’s right by her too.”

He cocks his head to the side.

“Deserves respect.” I nod.

“Okay.” He nods back.

“Then it’s mowing that pasture.” I grip his shoulder. “Fence is done.”

He follows me into the kitchen. “So, we can get horses now?”

Juliana turns around and forces a smile.

“Let’s see if it’s okay with your mom, but first, we need to mow and fill holes.”

She clears her throat. “Sounds like a lot of work needs to be done before you get horses, huh?”

“But we are getting them, Mom.” He raises his eyebrow, as if to challenge her.

“Wow, Brand, I was always taught to ask, not demand,” I make a joke out of something that’s not a joke.

“But she lives there. This is Dad’s”—he pauses—”Uncle Gage’s and your place—our place. Boys rule here.” He smiles at me.

“Don’t let Mags know that,” I tease.

“Well, Mags is Mags.” He grins while pulling himself up on the stool.

“And your mom, she’s your mom, kid,” I tell him as I take his hat off and set it down. “And we’re gentlemen.”

He looks at his hat, then me. “Why can’t I wear a hat?”

“Cowboys don’t wear hats at the table.” I wink.

He smiles. “Okay.”

I lean in and whisper, “And they treat women—all women—with respect. It’s hard work being a cowboy, Brand. If you aren’t big enough yet, I understand—”

“I’m plenty big.” He nods enthusiastically.

“Perfect.” I mess up his curls then look at Juliana. “Well, little lady, what are you making us for breakfast?”

She looks at me, eyes soft. Finally, eyes soft.

I smile, and she smiles back.

“Um, pancakes, with chocolate chips, bacon, and I can make hash browns if you like,” she says too damn eagerly.

“Thanks, little lady.” Brand blinks at her.

Her face lights up, yet her eyes fill with tears. She turns so he doesn’t see her.

“Anytime, Brandon, anytime.”

Brand and I spend a few hours mowing the pasture and a couple more walking the area, looking for holes and marking them with stakes.

“What are we gonna fill them with?” he asks.

“Gonna get a load of dirt.” I scratch my head. “Probably should get a truck first, though.”

“Dad”—he pauses—”I mean, Uncle Gage, he has a truck.”

“Well, I think I need a new one.” I do, no doubt. I spent a shitload of money on hookers, but I haven’t spent a dime of my profit share checks from Falcon Construction in years. Couldn’t touch my account, or they would have known where I was. And no, I may not deserve it, but why the fuck not? “What’s your favorite color?”

“Red.” He nods.

I’m not a huge fan of red, but maybe I could get burgundy.

“Let’s see what we can do.”

As we walk through the field to the house, I ask Brand, “What color’s your mom’s car?”

He shrugs. “Oh, she doesn’t have one.”

This shocks me. “Why not?”

“She likes to walk and likes taxis.” He shrugs again. “Peter drives, though.”

“What kind of car does he have?”

“A little one, black. I think it’s a BMX.”

“You mean BMW?” I ask, trying not to laugh.

He looks up at me. “Well, it’s not a Chevy.”

Now I do laugh. Then I see Gray sitting down by the dock.

“You wanna go ask Gray if he’ll takes us into town?”

“Sure.” He smiles and, like a flash, he’s running toward him.

I walk inside to see Gage at the window.

“You know where Juliana is?”

He shrugs. “Probably reading a damn magazine somewhere.”

“What kind of magazines does she like?” I ask.

He looks back at me. “How the fuck am I supposed to know?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “She was your wife.”

“Don’t fucking start with me,” he grumbles.

“Not starting shit. Not saying she and I both weren’t wrong, but you should look at how the fuck it would feel to come from nothing to having everything and how that may feel to a person.”

“Garrett,” he hisses. “She fucking knew. Probably planned to get knocked up by a rich boy her whole fucking life.”

“She had no clue,” I tell him. He looks at me. “She had no clue. I knocked her up. Me. I pushed her to make the decision she did. Me. You willingly took her to bed. Big, fucked up, twisted tale, and not one of us is innocent. I’m not minimizing what you’ve done for me, not one bit, but I’m gonna ask that you step the fuck down from your high horse and feel what it’s like to be in someone else’s shoes, other than the ones you’ve been in your whole life.”

“Fucking forced into,” he snaps.

“You’re a good man, Gage, the best, but I’m gonna fix this shit, and you, you’re gonna go love on your little chick who hates the fuck out of me.”

“She doesn’t hate you. She fucking loves me. She’s trying to protect me.” He shakes his head like it’s an insane idea.

“She’s not alone.”

He looks at me curiously.

“Brandon treats his mom like shit.”

“She left him,” he snaps.

“Did you ever once give her the opportunity to stay?” I ask.

“She fucking lied to me,” he snaps.

I shrug. “And she lost everything she so desperately tried to love.”

“Not my fucking fault,” he retorts.

“Well, it is mine. And Gage, I’m gonna fix it. I’m gonna make it right, for both of them.”

His eyes narrow, his jaw twitching, but he doesn’t say a damn thing.

“I’m gonna have Gray take me into town. I need a vehicle. Would like to take Brand with me.”

“There’s a barn full of vehicles right out there,” he huffs.

“Gonna need one of my own.”

I head upstairs toward Brand’s room where I hear her voice.

“Peter, please don’t come here,” she pleads. “I’m bonding with my son.”

I look in the room. She’s lying on her stomach, a magazine in front of her, her phone on the bed.

“This is unacceptable, Juliana!” he yells at her.

“Shh, I told you reception is horrible here. You’re on speaker, and I prefer everyone not hear you going off.”

“Going off? How dare you talk to me like that? Get home, or I swear...” He stops, and her body stiffens. “I will make you regret it.”

“Juliana, hang up on that motherfucker,” I snap as I walk toward her.

“What is wrong with you?” she asks me.

“Who the fuck is this clown?”

“Her boyfriend. Her fiancé,” a weak-ass bitch voice trying to be badass smarts off.

“Is that how you talk to a woman? How about you come right up here and try that shit in front of me?” I snap.

“Don’t,” she says to me. “Don’t!”

“And who the fuck are you?”

“I’m Brand’s father; that’s who the fuck I am,” I snap.

“Dad?” I turn quickly and see Brand in the doorway.

“Oh, God.”

I look back as Juliana covers her mouth.

“Brandon, your mother needs a moment,” the douchebag says to my son. MINE.

“Brand, you’re good. Your mom’s gonna hang up the phone.”

I look at Juliana. She’s a freaking mess.

“Juliana, that man will not be around my son,” I tell her quietly. “End it.”

“This is not your business,” she whispers.

“Uncle Gray is waiting,” Brand says.

“Be right down. You wanna go grab a couple drinks for the road? Four drinks.” I turn and look at Juliana. “Four.”

“Why don’t you go help him, Garrett?” she says.

“Who the hell is Garrett?” fucknut’s voice comes over the speaker.

“My dad, and he knows I don’t like you,” Brand smarts off to him.

“Brandon, we’ve talked about this,” Juliana says. “Could you please give us a few minutes? Both of you?”

“You know how I said we need to respect Mom?” I ask Brand, and he nods. “You go grab the drinks. She and I will be down after I tell the shitstick that he ever talks like that again, he’ll be swallowing his teeth.”

Brand sucks his lips in, trying not to crack up. He nods and runs out of the room, laughing.

I turn and look at Juliana, receiving a stone-cold glare.