Page 72 of Bona Fide

He never mentioned or hinted that he didn’t do it. Accepted the advice our parents set before him and went to rehab—one he never stayed long at. His drinking increased, he was never home, I was disgusted with him and then received numerous text messages from Phoebe or Camilia about finding a young girl in his room.

That was the final nail in the coffin when my sisters confirmed the stories.

I never tried to talk to him to see where and why he allegedly turned down that dark road. However, I was too far up my own ass to even want to deal with it. I became good at judging my own family after I found out what Demi was all about. What my father pressed me to do when it came down to marrying and forgiving her.

A twinge of guilt comes up my throat, and I try to swallow it down. I know what Demi is capable of. I just thought my relationship with Lucas was stronger than any woman who tried to fuck with us.

Now over a decade later, he has the balls to mention all this to me?

“I need to know what to do or say,” Lucas cuts in. “I don’t want to—”

“You’re telling me—straight up—that you’ve kept your mouth shut up about these girls to save me from what exactly?”

My brother furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about? Do you think you’d go anywhere with a sex addict as a brother?”

“You said child rapist,” I retort. “What makes you—”

“Two girls whom Demi hired that have a nice little story made up about how I drugged and fucked them at a college party. One woke up, I was on top of the other, balls deep and allegedly going to town on. What’s cool, is that they show up at random places to remind me that they still remember the story.”

“With what proof?”

Lucas gives me an incredulous look. “A he-said, she-said thing is one thing. Two females together, crying rape, you think I wanted to go down that road?”

“Phoebe is staying downstairs so I can—”

“I don’t want a fucking reunion,” my brother gripes. “I’ve been protecting your ass this long so I just—”

“Oh, you’ll fucking do it,” I reprimand. “You kept this from me long enough, and I’ll do my own digging, but in the meantime—”

“In the meantime, what?” He takes a menacing step towards me. “You don’t believe me so let’s just name this what it is. Coming here...was a fucking mistake. Call your bitch’s posse off my ass and we’ll call it a win.”

“You’re not going to tell me that my so-called wife ruined your life and then skip away like arriving here is going to make everything go away.”

“Can’t you do that? Big-ass governor—how many men did you have to take down to get this pad? How much blood did you spill to get to where you are?”

“I’m not part of the mafia, dumbass. But to answer your question—” I welcome another sip of my whiskey. “—quite a few.”

“In the good of evil?” I almost scoff out loud. I always said that to him, every time he tried to talk to me after his alleged escapades and I’d blow him off. He always warned me to be careful—I wasn’t. I married a conniving bitch, and I wonder if my brother was there and I let him in, if I would’ve still made the same mistake.

“Mostly bad,” I deadpan, pulling out two Coronas and rounding the kitchen island. I hand one over to my brother and offer him to take a seat on one of my sectional couches. He does, pulling out his keys for a small bottle opener, which I forgot to do, and cracks his cap off. His keys fly in my direction to do the same as he sits back.

“I’m leaving the country,” Lucas voices. “I can’t stay here in this fucked-up world that you and Dad built. So after this free beer, I’m out.”

“Can’t say that I blame you but wouldn’t that be the bitch move?” His mouth sets in a hard line. “It’ll give Demi more ammo to use against you with what you asserted to be false?”

Lucas takes a pull from his beer as he sets his sights out my ceiling-to-floor windows overlooking the city. “She’ll do it anyway. You know she’ll maim our family if you don’t make it past the Democratic delegates.” He shrugs. “And if you do and don’t take her to the White House, well, we’re fucked already.”

“I’m working on getting her out,” I deadpan, which receives an exasperated scoff from my brother.

“Good luck with that.”

“Didn’t you just say I’ve taken down powerful men?”

“But have you taken down a spiteful woman?” He eyes me, unimpressed because we both know the answer to that question—being hell no.

“I have more authority now.”

“We have a brother now I hear,” he retorts sourly. “Daxton. What would that make him to you?”

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