Chapter Fifteen

Being Honest

Gage

“Everything okay?” Zandor asks, sitting back in his chair.

I look around the conference room at Steel Inc. and shake my head. I don’t ask for shit, no help, no nothing, but right now, I need fucking help.

“No, I need your help.”

“Anytime, brother.” He leans forward. “Anytime.”

Fuck, I don’t want this. I don’t want to be in this fucking situation, but there isn’t a fucking person outside of Mags who I trust with this.

“Falcon, spill it, man. No fucking judgement.”

“I’m fucking judging, Z. I’m fucking sick about this,” I tell him.

“Dude, please tell me I was wrong about the tranny,” he says, wiping his hand up his face.

I gasp. “You fucking kidding me?”

“Still no judgment, but—”

“I should fucking knock your teeth out right now.” I start to stand.

“Sit the fuck down and tell me, then,” Zandor says.

I take a deep breath and nod as I sit. I look down, unable to look him in the fucking eyes when I let this shit out.

“You know Juliana lied about Brandon.”

“Yeah, man, but you’re doing the right thing by that boy.”

I take in a deep breath. “My mother showed up the other night.”

“You still aren’t talking to her?”

I shake my head. “I never wanted Brand to know the truth. He’s my fucking kid in every way that counts, and she took Juliana’s side really fucking quick-like.” I stand up and start pacing. “The bitch didn’t deserve half the shit she got. Fucking go pick him up, and she’s fucking drunk and some dick is stumbling out of her room. Just because he came out of her fucking snatch doesn’t mean she’s motherhood material.”

“You’ve done right by him,” Zandor says in effort to calm my ass down.

I turn around. “My mother...” I smash my fist into the desk. “My fucking mother knew who his father was and kept it from me for years. Fucking years.”

“It’s not right, Gage, not at all.” He shakes his head. “Can’t imagine if Momma Joe pulled that shit.”

“Christ.” I hold one hand on the desk and the other to my chest because now it fucking hurts. It fucking hurts so fucking bad.

“You okay?” he asks, standing up.

“No, I am not okay. I’m fucking hurting, and I wanna make someone else hurt, too,” I admit. “I fucked the girl for three drunken days and nights. Three fucking days, Z, with no goddamn reprieve. I fucked the hell out of her.”

“Okay...?” He’s fucking confused. Hell, so am I.

“She fucking took it, too. I fucking wish she’d walked the hell away.” I laugh. “But she couldn’t. The storm trapped us at Falcon’s Landing, my goddammed place to escape. Mine.”

“Doesn’t sound like that was a horrible way to spend three days, Falcon.”

It wasn’t. It was like fucking heaven. The only fucking way I got through those days was whiskey and pussy, Jameson and Phoenix.

I swallow back my pride and tell him what I came for. “So, Mom came to Mags’ place.”

“Shit, what happened?”

I sit down and look him in the eye. “She told me who Brand’s father is.”

Zandor sits, expressionless, not saying a fucking word, because this isn’t about a piece of ass, or a fucking dating app, it’s about family.

“She knew the day he was born. She knew because the bitch I married broke down and told her. She knew and didn’t tell me.”

“You want me to have Kat kick her ass?” he asks in all seriousness.

“Kat from Forever Steel?” I almost laugh.

“Craziest bitch I know. She’d do it, too.” Again, he’s being fucking serious.

I shake my head. “Blood is blood. No one needs to kick her ass. But that bitch and I, we’ll never fucking mend fences.”

When he lowers his head and shakes it slightly from side to side, he asks, “Who’s his dad, Gage?”

I can’t even say it out loud. It’s so fucking raw, so fucking painful and un-fucking-believable.

“Gage, gonna ask you this. Is it one of your brothers?”

I look him straight in the eyes and nod once. One fucking time is all I can manage.

He stands up. “Let’s go.”

“Where?” I ask, standing.

“Let’s go fucking drink.”

“Been doing that for three days; hasn’t changed a damn thing.”

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and sends a message. “I need a fucking drink. Let’s jet.”

When we get to the elevator, Jase, Cyrus, Xavier, and Abe are all walking toward it, too. They know.

“We gonna do this up high school senior style?” Jase clasps my shoulder.

“Yeah. Yeah, we are.”

He looks over his shoulder at his wife. “Gonna be a late night, baby.”

She smiles. “Have fun.”

“Call if your water breaks, okay?”

She laughs. “Yeah, I will.”

In the elevator, it’s so damn quiet it’s deafening. Not one fucking word is said.

We walk out of the elevator on the first floor, and all eyes are on us.

“We still got it, man,” Zandor whispers.

“You’re married, asshole.”

“Yeah, I am. But my kitten knows. She knows.”

I look at him. “She knows what, that you get off on this shit?”

He chuckles. “Nah, I get off on her every fucking day. Sometimes twice. She’s a fucking goddess, man. But when you walk down the road, the hall, into a restaurant together, and all eyes are on you two, it’s kind of fucking hot knowing they all wish they could be you, and not you as an individual, but as a couple. Two is definitely better than one.”

They nod, and all I can think of is her.

I look down at my phone and send a text as we are walking out the door.

- You good?

When we get in the car, it vibrates in my hand.

- Yep. You good?

- Yep.

“A few years ago, we’d be at a fucking club, not a pub.” Xavier laughs.

“Times change, man,” Cyrus says, shoving his phone in his pocket and sitting down.

“Nothing wrong with change.” Jase sits next to Cyrus.

“Nothing wrong indeed,” Abe says, smiling as he looks at the pool table.

I have no clue what the fuck that’s about, but whatever.

Abe’s old man brings a round to the table, and they all look at me when he walks away.

Fuck. I run my hand over my face.

“Brandon’s father, I need to find him,” I tell them, looking down.

“We’ll help however we can. Track him down, ruin his life, drag him to you,” Cyrus responds.

I look up at him. “I need him brought to me in the city. I have no fucking clue where he is.”

“Do you know who he is?” Abe asks.

I nod. “Garrett.”

“Jesus Christ,” Xavier whispers.

“No shit.” I sit back and take a drink. “Just found out a few days ago. He’s been checking in with my mother on occasion, but she’s not gonna tell me a damn thing.”

“How the fuck did this happen?” Jase asks.

“I met Juliana at a party. Garrett was fucked up and went off on her. Back then, he was fucked up and going off on a lot of people. I fucking fixed it for him. Swooped her away, told her some shit that wasn’t true, got drunk as fuck, woke up with her in the morning.” I look at them, and they are all looking at each other. “I didn’t know he fucked her. Hell, I didn’t know if I did. Not everyone’s fucking lives are forever fucking steel.” I stand up, pushing the chair back with my legs.

“Sit your ass down, man.” Cyrus stands up. “You need help, we’re here, just tell us what you need.”

“I need his ass in my fucking presence. I need to not let my fucking mother keep coddling a fucking grown man who’s fucked up all the time. I need to get his goddamn head straight so when Brand knows...” I pause when my chest tightens. “When my boy finds out who his father is, he can look at a man and not a fucking piece of shit who’s been allowed to wallow in his goddamn self-pity for fucking years.”

“What information do you have?” Cyrus asks.

“Not fucking much. I’m waiting on Grayson to call me back. He’ll have a better idea than me. Fucker avoids me like the plaque.” I sit back down. “Now I know why.”

“Man, I can’t imagine,” Xavier says, looking at his brothers then at me. “So fucked up.”

I nod. “We’re not like you all.”

They have no clue how fucking different we are.

“You’re one of us, man.” Zandor lifts his chin. “We’ll find him, and your mother won’t have a fucking clue.”

“You trust Grayson?” Cyrus asks.

I shrug. “No clue. But I’m sure he’s heard from him a hell of a lot more than I have in the last fucking five years.”

Right now, it hits me that, after Brandon was born was when he started drifting. Had only met him a handful of times. It didn’t bother me at all. He was always fucked up; didn’t need to be around a kid. Now, well, now it’s time he fucking get a grip and grow the fuck up.

“Let’s eat.” Abe stands. “I’ll go help my pop bring out the food.”

When the elevator opens, I walk into my apartment on Madison Avenue. The difference in this place and Falcon’s Landing is night and day. The walls aren’t wood; they are glass. The furniture all bought from a design store. The pictures are all of buildings Falcon construction has had a hand in building. This place is a place to exist, not fucking live.

I toss my coat on the back of a barstool and walk to the fridge. It’s all stocked up with shit you throw in your mouth to keep you strong and alive, not the food Brand or I like.

I grab a bottle of water and walk over to the black sectional. I immediately spot a little Matchbox car sitting on the glass coffee table.

I pick it up as I flop back on the couch. Then I grab my phone and hit my favorites list, hitting Brandon’s name.

I hold up the phone while the Facetime app does its thing. Then I see his face appear, and he smiles. I notice immediately that he’s lost a tooth, and I’m fucking angry. So fucking angry I didn’t get a call, a message. I’m fucking pissed I wasn’t there to experience it like I have been for all his goddamned firsts.

Jesus, Gage, hold it together. He’s the only one who deserves you to do so.

“Hi, Daddy,” Brandon whispers.

“You lost a tooth, bud?” I ask quietly.

“Uh-huh. Tooth fairy came.” He gets up and is moving. “See?” He holds up a little box that’s shaped like a tooth.

“Wow, Brand, that’s a big tooth. I didn’t realize you were part shark.”

He giggles. “No, it’s a box. See?” He opens it to show me. “It glows in the dark so she can find it easier. I gotta put a tooth in there so it doesn’t get lost. Then I get money.”

“That’s great, bud.”

He drops it on the bed. “I wanna go fishing with you, Daddy.”

“I wanna go fishing with you, too, but I’m back in the city.” I make a face, and he nods.

“Back to work?” he asks.

“For a little bit,” I answer. “You’re with your mom for a couple more weeks, remember? Then we can hang out.”

“Go fishing?” He smiles big.

“Yeah, bud, we can go fishing.” I wink.

“Did you and Mags go fishing?”

I lie because he looks a little fucking hurt. “No, bud, we’re letting them grow.”

“She’s hurt, Daddy.”

“She’ll be okay, bud.”

“I saw her today.” He beams.

Like fishing without him would have hurt him, knowing he saw Mags without me kind of fucking hurts, too.

“Bet that made her happy.” I smile back at him.

“I made her a card. That made her happy, for sure.” He looks around and moves his face closer to the screen. “Did Mom do something to make her mad?”

I bite back a laugh at the list of a million reasons Mags hates Juliana.

“Not sure, bud. Maybe she’s just in some pain from her fall.”

He nods, accepting that answer. “She talked to Grandma before I went in. I think she was hurt then, too, because she didn’t sound happy.”

“Bet your goofy, little toothless smile made her feel a lot better,” I try to sway the conversation.

He nods. “I’m her boy.”

“Sure are, bud, you sure are.”

“See you soon, Dad?” he whispers.

“Soon, bud. Love you, Brand.”

“Love you, Dad.”

We disconnect.

I sit back and rest my head on the back of the couch, taking in a few long, deep fucking breaths.

What a fucking mess.

My phone rings, and I look at it. Grayson.

“Where are you?” I answer.

“Heading to your place.”

“You’re in New York?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you heard from Garrett?”

“A couple days ago. He was heading to Vegas.”

“Life’s a big fucking party, isn’t it?” I spew.

“Look, not all of us were born thirty fucking years old with the ability to not fucking feel, Gage. He’s working through his shit. So am I. And you...You’re just working.”

I want to fucking go off on him, but I need his ass here, so I hold it fucking in...for Brand.

“How long before you get here?”

“Ten minutes. And Gage, don’t tell Mom or Dad. I don’t want to deal with their shit right now.”

“Didn’t plan on it.”

Fifteen minutes later, the elevator opens and Grayson walks in with a guitar strapped to his back.

“You play guitar now?” I ask as he lets the strap slide down his arm.

“Yeah, just picked it up ten years ago, asshole.” He smirks as he looks down.

I want to fire a million questions at him, because I need fucking answers. And although he’s not a dick like Garrett, he at least stays in contact. Getting angry will push his ass back to wherever he’s been.

“You want a drink?” I ask.

He nods, running his hand through his mess of hair. “Yeah, I’d like one.”

I fix him a drink as he sets his guitar and bag down by the door.

“Why don’t you put that in the bedroom?”

“You asking me to stay?” he asks, almost shocked.

“Yeah, I’m asking you to stay.”

He hesitates before saying, “Okay.”

When he leaves the room, I send Cyrus a message.

- Possible location: Vegas. Should know more soon.

His reply is immediate.

- On it.

When Grayson comes out, he sits on the couch, and I hand him his drink, then sit beside him.

“How’s Brandon?”

I shake my head. “Good. Lost a tooth.”

He smiles. “That’s cool.”

“Yeah, big deal for a kid,” I grit out.

“And he’s with Juliana,” he says, knowing how much it pisses me off.

“Yeah.”

“Sorry, man, that sucks. I know how much you love him.”

I look at him, waiting for him to say more. He doesn’t.

“Look, I was going to make all sorts of small talk so you won’t take off, but there is no way I can sit here and pretend things aren’t fucked up.”

“I can tell.” He takes a drink.

“Garrett is Brand’s father.”

He stops drinking immediately, sets the glass down on the table, looks up at me, and shakes his head. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“How did you find out?”

“Did you fucking know?” I ask through clenched teeth.

“No...Well, maybe. Fuck, Gage, I don’t know.”

“I’d really love a fucking explanation before I lose my shit.”

“They were fucking for a year before her and you started.”

“What?”

He shrugs. “I thought you knew.”

“You thought I knew?” I gasp, my blood immediately starting boiling.

“Yeah, I thought you knew. Thought that’s why Garrett was so pissed at you. Not that he had any reason to be. He never loved the girl; just fucking her.”

“Jesus Christ, Gray.” I stand up. “What the fuck?”

He doesn’t say a word.

“When I married her because she was knocked up, you didn’t think I should have been given a heads-up?” I start pacing back and forth.

“Not like the lines of communication in this family are that open, Gage, but no, I didn’t think some girl would do that kind of shit.”

“Three years ago, we knew I wasn’t his father, Gray. Three. And you never once said a damn word.”

He hangs his head and looks at the floor.

“Why? Why the hell wouldn’t you fucking say something?”

“In this family, we don’t talk! We fucking don’t. We look the other fucking way. That’s what we do! He’s our fucking brother, and he’s a fucking mess! What was I supposed to fucking do, Gage, throw a rock and end it?”

I nearly stumble at his words as a wound opens. I feel like I did so many fucking years ago, when one stone thrown in anger by a much younger me ended a life.

That life wasn’t worth shit.