“One extra large, triple pump, vanilla dirty chai for Johnson!” I yelled and knocked the puck of espresso from the portafilter. “Johnson, I got your order ready!”

Johnson had taken his sweet time at the pop-up shop next door, and I knew that when he came back, he’d be unhappy that his drink was lukewarm. Sure enough, when Johnson walked out with his two shopping bags of clothing, he frowned at the drink.

“Do you mind remaking this? It’s a bit cold,” he said. A bit. Cold.

“Sure thing.” I bit my tongue. I desperately wanted to talk back, but I knew better. I had to play nice. I was learning. At thirty years old, I was just starting to learn how to do that.

His words were like razor blades to my ears. I had only been working here for a week, and I had to admit, it wasn’t my scene. I grew up around Trent. He taught me one thing: the world was against you. Always.

So I did Trent’s dirty work. I took envelopes and delivered it to certain hooligans in town. I held onto packages of what I believed to be illegal substances, hoping the police wouldn’t bust through our door.

After about ten years of doing that, I just couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t be around him and I sure as hell couldn’t see him abandon his kid anymore. James was everything to me now.

When Trent nearly died from that OD, I had to step in, or child protective services would have taken him. I didn’t have a record, and I was old enough to take James myself, so it was an obvious choice for me.

Trent thought the opposite. To my older brother, it felt like I was walking in on his territory. I was taking his kin and rightful heir to his piece of shit throne in Idaho. He resented me for it, even though the court would have taken his kid away from him in a second if they knew all he was doing.

That’s why Trent hated me. Because I wouldn’t take his shit anymore. I was bigger, better, and more capable than he’d ever been, and goddammit… it broke my heart into pieces.

“Here’s that chai,” I kindly said, sliding the iced chai across the counter.

“Extra large? Triple pump?” he asked, with a privileged grin.

I did my best to fake a smile back at him. “Yes, sir. With vanilla and an extra shot,” I said.

Yep. This job was the new new that I told James about. This was why he had to go to day care after school begrudgingly. I only had so much time.

I was busting my ass to be a better man, and I guess that involved working twelve-hour shifts while wearing a pink apron, complete with purple cupcakes printed in the center.

I was an alpha, and I would have done anything for a chance at becoming independent.

I didn’t mind it. It helped pay the bills, at least. The house was paid off, thank God. I inherited that place from Trent, but I never felt bad about taking it. He practically forced my blind father to sign those papers over to him, so in my mind, he was guilty as sin.

I tamped a new espresso grind and switched it into the machine, just to practice my shots. The door opened, and the bell above jingled. I didn’t even have to look up to know who walked in.

The silver badge hit the corner of my eye, and my stomach dropped straight to the floor. Whatever this beta cop had to say wouldn’t be good. “Sergeant. Howdy,” I said. “What brings you into my new job?”

I prayed to the lord above that Sergeant Scott Daily wouldn’t say anything too incriminating about me, or my brother out loud. I was alone on the shift, but there were a lot of regulars inside the building, and I didn’t want it getting back to my boss. This job was all I had left to rely on for a steady income.

Scott took off his sergeant cap and creased his eyelids as if he was searching my pupils for any sign of “bad.” When he felt comfortable, he let out a short sigh. Surprisingly, he smiled.

“I’d like a large coffee. Hot. Black. And don’t leave any fuckin’ room at the top, Jax. I need every ounce of coffee I can get,” Sergeant Scott Daily said.

I moved almost too robotically. It surprised me. I thought he was going to tell me that my dickhead brother had robbed another liquor store, or shot another pedestrian in the foot. These types of scenarios were a regular occurrence around here.

“One hot coffee, no cream, no room. Coming right up,” I said. He hesitated at the register. “It’s on the house. Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks, Jax,” he said. The thing about Sergeant Scott Daily was that he was the only “nice” cop in town. We all grew up together. We went to the same schools, neighborhood parties, and shared the same hopes and dreams.

When you get older in a smaller town like this, you tend to go in two ways. Scott chose his path. My brother picked his. As for me? Well, I was sort of figuring it out as I went.

“Anytime, Scott. All I ask is that you bail me out of jail when I need it,” I joked.

He laughed. I handed him his coffee. “What happened to your head? Looks like you need some stitches,” Scott said.

I frowned. “I know, I know. I need to go to the doctor, but who can afford a hospital visit these days? I’d probably have to pay five hundred dollars just for the threading. I figure it’ll heal on its own,” I said.

“Sure, it’ll leave a big scar, but you’ve got a full head of hair, right? You’ll be fine,” he said, running his hand over his bald head. “No, but honestly, I came here because I was given another lecture on your brother’s recent actions.”

There it was. My fucking brother. That rat bastard. “Trent? What the hell did he do now?” I asked.

Scott looked grim, but we were cool with each other. He knew that he could tell me anything, even if it hurt to hear. “I got a witness saying they saw him stealing a truck engine of all things in the Rosa Quarters parking lot. You know the place?” Scott asked. I nodded, biting my tongue. “Look, I’m not judging your family, but he’s got to get his shit together, Jax. I can’t keep turning a blind eye. I know you’ve been working hard on yourself, but if you don’t get him to stop, a judge is going to convict him for a very long time.”

“So what? Let him rot.” I focused my attention back on the espresso machine. I flicked the hot water on and cleaned my portafilter off. “He’s fucked with me too many times to count, Scott. Maybe jail could straighten him out.”

“Yea sure. Being around hardened criminals for years on end always helps reform criminals, right? Just talk to him for me. Tell him he’s on our radar. Maybe that will spook him some,” Scott said, unable to take a sip from his hot cup of joe.

“I’ll talk to him, Scott. I promise,” I said. “I’ve actually got the guy with the truck staying at my house for the week.”

Scott let out a snort of a laugh. “Wait. Come again? You what?” he asked.

I lowered my head in shame. “I have him staying at my house,” I repeated. “It was the least I could do.”

He chuckled some more, nearly spilling his coffee. “Jax, you never have people stay over at your place. All of a sudden, you’re Mr. Charitable?”

I hoped that my blushing cheeks were shielded enough by my gruff five o’clock shadow. “Yeah, well. He was with his little brother. It hit home, okay?”

To the sergeant, his joke was just a minor joke. To me, it cut deeper. Though I didn’t let on that I was hurt, it pissed me off that everyone thought of me as this terrible, bad guy. I was trying my damn best and no one gave a rat’s ass what I was going through with my family. It was fucked up and spoke volumes about the community.

He blew on his coffee and nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t joke around about these things. Well, if those two don’t want to press charges, there’s nothing I can really do, but if I hear anything else about this story, I’m going to have to investigate. That means if I hear something about your head and Trent doing something to cause it, I’m going to knock his damn door down,” Sergeant Daily said.

“It’s unrelated. I slammed my head into my garage last night. But I hear you. Have a good day, officer,” I said. He lifted his cup into the air as a wave goodbye.

My shift ended with no problems. I walked out of the shop and glanced up at the setting sun. The snow was falling again, and the cold, bitter wind rested against my nose and ears. When I got into the truck, I felt every emotion press against my chest.

I broke down. I cried painfully, gripping the steering wheel while clutching the front buttons of my shirt. I tore them off, one by one in a moment of panicked confusion. I felt the air in my lungs choke out of me.

The realization had just set in: I was going to be alone forever. Worse than that was the idea that after Schwartz and Lawrence left the house, my life would resume. That tore at me in a way I couldn’t anticipate.

I turned the key into the ignition and slammed the truck in drive. I sped out onto the highway, barreling down that darkened path with desperation. I was going to Trent’s house, but I had no way of knowing what would happen when I got there.

When I pulled into his dirt driveway, he was on the porch, smoking another tiresome cigarette. He was drinking another Pabst and plotting. Only, this time, his friends weren’t with him, and I wasn’t about to let him smash me over the head with that bottle.

I slammed the truck door and started walking in his direction. I looked at him in the eyes, deciding how this would play out. But it was apparent what I had to do when he smiled at me.

“Well, well, well. Look who the cat dragged in. Are you here to say you’re sorry, or do you want another go at it?” Trent asked, flicking his cigarette across the dusty wood paneling. His rat-like grin triggered me. I couldn’t hold back.

I didn’t even give him a chance to react. “Another go at it would be nice,” I said. And before I witnessed his facial expression change, I wound my arm back and slugged his jaw, sending him sliding across the porch.

I hovered over his skinny body and grabbed the top of his button-down shirt. I picked him up and threw him back down, back hitting the big planks below.

I knocked the wind out of my brother. His painful groaning only made me angrier. “You motherfucker,” Trent cried. “I’ll kill you for this. I swear it. I’ll come to your house and kill you.”

It wasn’t the first death threat I received from my brother. I knew it wasn’t going to be my last.

Realizing what I had done was always the worst feeling in the world. I quickly turned around, trembling at the limbs. I soon saw Schwartz’s engine, so I picked it up and walked toward the truck. I set it down in the bed and closed it shut. When I turned around, Trent was at the top of the porch. He had a double barrel shotgun pointed toward me.

He was far enough away to where it wouldn’t kill me, but I knew that when he pulled the trigger, it could do some damage. “Back off, brother,” I said. “I’m done here.”

“Like Hell you are. Give it back, Jax,” Trent fumed. Blood rolled down from his nostril.

I closed my eyes and tried my best to center myself. I spent hours some days watching meditation tutorials, but I was never good at going full Zen in a situation like this.

I screamed, “If you’re going to shoot, you better not miss,” I said.

Trent took one step down from the porch. “Why’s that?” he asked.

“Because if you miss, I’m going to cut out your throat,” I growled.

There was a long moment of silence. Trent weighed his options, but after a minute of deciding, he lowered his shotgun. He didn’t say a word, but he watched as I got into my truck and drove away.

On the way home, more tears fell from my eyes. I was exhausted. I was confused and scared. I didn’t know myself anymore. Was I a decent person? Or was I just like Trent, destined for the gutter?

I started punching my steering wheel, blinded by my anger and frustration. I was hyperventilating because the world felt like it was turning upside down on me. I thought of James, watching cartoons in the living room. That image was pure. It calmed me down to think of him.

James was still young. He didn’t fully understand the dynamics of Trent and I’s relationship, but he was starting to realize more than I thought he would at his young age.

James couldn’t grow up in this town forever. If he did, he would witness too much of the bad and not enough of the good. I couldn’t let that happen.

Trent enjoyed choosing the dark path, over and over again. When things got hard, he lifted his fists or his shotgun, or he got his friends to do both for him. He never dealt with his problems in a way any alpha should. Compassion, understanding, and responsibility were three words he would never embrace. And I knew James would suffer for it.

But right now, I had to focus on the immediate problems. I pulled into my neighborhood and parked the truck on the curb in front of my house. The light was shining inside, and I saw Lawrence showing James his Magick cards.

I wiped all the remnants of any tears I had off my cheeks and face. I quickly glanced in the mirror to make sure I looked okay. My eyes were puffy and red. I didn’t want any omegas seeing that I was crying, but I hoped that the sight of their engine would cause them to look away from me.

“You’re strong,” I whispered. “You’re a good person. You’re courageous, but not reckless. You are a good person.”

I didn’t know if positive self-affirmation did anything in the long run, but it was something I had been doing. It was just another way to find the center again, the part of me that was ripped away at such a young age.

I walked through the door, engine against my chest. I set it on the couch and smiled when Schwartz turned around, still wearing his Jack Skellington pajama set. He threw his palms over his mouth and let out a muffled scream of excitement and joy. He ran in place, hiking his legs up high into the air.

“Oh my god! Jason, are you serious? You got it back?” Schwartz asked.

“I really wish you never heard James call me Jason,” I said.

As soon as James heard the door shut behind me, he ran and screamed, almost louder than Schwartz did. Almost.

James threw his little arms around me and squeezed tightly. “I missed you, daddy!” he cried out.

Daddy. Fuck. Every time he said that word, it made my heart turn to mush because I felt like James was my son. But then the understanding would always kick in. Trent would find a way to get him back. That was my biggest worry in the world.

“You missed me, huh? Did Mrs. Garrison drive you home safely?” I asked, picking him up into my arms

“Uh huh! She said that she didn’t like Trent, but that you were a leaf,” James said, proudly.

“A leaf?!” I exclaimed. “But I’m not a leaf.”

“That’s what she said!” James smiled and kissed my cheek.

“I think she meant that I was turning over a new leaf,” I said. “It’s an expression. It means that I’m starting over.”

James looked confused. He pouted his lips and placed his palm right on my wound, though he didn’t know it. “Stop turning over the leafes! They are just trying to rest, dad.” James laughed loudly and acted like he just made the funniest joke in the world.

“Okay, time to go back down on the floor, buddy,” I said, groaning at his weight. He was getting far too big for me to be holding him any longer.

Schwartz was staring at us with hearts in his eyes. His smile was robotic, almost like he was broken or at least slightly malfunctioned. “You two are the cutest,” he said.

“Omega,” I groaned, “not now.”

“I want a little guy of my own,” he pouted.

“Well, you have one. Right there,” I pointed at Lawrence who gave a sharp salute back. Schwartz rolled his eyes. Ahh, sixteen. That was an age where swimming in a sea of horrid hormones felt normal. I could wait a while before James got to that age.

“How are the cards?” I asked Lawrence, walking over.

“Live by the cards, die by the cards. That’s what I always say,” Lawrence replied. I sat down next to him. After what I just went through with Trent, this seemed like heaven. I hid my bruised and scuffed-up knuckles.

“Hey, Jax. Thanks for giving my cards back,” Lawrence said. “We need money, but I shouldn’t have sold these.”

“No problem. Maybe I’ll start my own collection soon,” I said.

James jumped on my back, screaming, “Yeah! We’ll battle to the death!”

“Alright, Mr. I have to put you to bed soon,” I said. He was way too riled up from having guests in the house. We hadn’t exactly had company this past year, and I know he felt starved for attention.

“But I don’t want to!” he pouted, tears already forming in his eyes. I hated doing this because even when he cried about things that didn’t matter, it broke my heart.

“Well, you have to, sweetie. You have school tomorrow. Then, you get to stay after with friends,” I said.

“Frank is nice and he brought his action fingers to class,” James said.

“Action figures? No way! How cool is that, kid?” I asked.

“Really cool!” he exclaimed, getting more hyped up on the idea. “We made them fight, but then Jonathan broke the leg off one and he started to cry.”

I laughed a little, but I could tell it was a serious matter to the little guy. “Well, if you’re good tonight and you go to bed on time, and you brush your teeth, I’ll let you pick up an action figure tomorrow. How’s that sound?” I asked. Parents had told me that it was a bad habit to bribe your kids, but it worked too well in the short term for me to stop doing it.

“Really? Me? My own action finger?” James asked. His eyes scrunched up with happiness.

“Yeah, sweetie! Your own action figure. You can add it to your collection,” I said, glancing over at the tub of toys he already forgot about.

I picked James up again and told the guys that I was going to tuck him in. I made sure that James brushed his teeth and got ready, and I even read a chapter of Harry Potter, before kissing him goodnight.

As he drifted off to sleep, James asked me something that pulled on my alpha heartstrings. “Dad? When are we going to have a family again?”

It hit me hard, right in the center of my sternum. I wanted to break down right there, but I had to remain strong for my boy. I didn’t know he remembered all of the family dinners together, back when Trent would bring James and my parents over.

Trent ruined that dream. He promised he would pay for the rest of my parent’s mortgage, but at that time, I had already paid for half of it.

He didn’t end up paying. He promised he would help with the hospital bills. He didn’t. And then, when both of our parents were passing, he promised he would visit. He did not visit. He couldn’t visit. He went to jail instead.

“Soon, baby,” I whispered. Running my palm across the front of his hairline, I kissed his forehead.

‘Promise?” James asked, eyes shut.

“I promise,” I whispered.

Life wasn’t going to get any easier for us out here. I knew that I had to make a change. I just didn’t know what difference I could make.