Page 21 of Power Play

“See you Sunday,” he said and turned away.

I waited until he was out of the building before I stooped to pick it all up.

6

Liam

Iwoke up Wednesday morning with Wyatt standing over me, dripping water on my forehead like we were still sleeping in bunk beds in the house on Lancaster Ave in Cushing, Vermont.

“What the…” I cried and sat up, swiping the cup out of his hand. Water sprayed the bed. The cup hit the floor and rolled under the dresser.

“Nice one,” Wyatt said. He wore a baseball cap, an ancient pair of jeans and a faded green t-shirt. He did not look at all like a millionaire professional athlete.

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s Wednesday, remember?”

Right. The day we were meeting our secret brother. Honestly. A secret brother? What kind of life was I living?

I rubbed a hand over my face. It had been a late night at the End Zone. Fuck. Kit worked at the End Zone. I remembered hertight little body in those shorts. That ridiculous shirt. Henrik had watched her like he was hungry and she smelled delicious.

She looked at me like she was daring me to do my worst.

It had, at the time, made my cock hard.

Still did.

“Did you break into my house?” I asked my brother, getting my mind off Kit.

“Mike let me in. I can’t believe you hired Mike as your bodyguard. You beat him up in junior high.”

“He needed a temporary gig and all he has to do is stand there and look scary,” I said and got out of bed. As soon as I stood up I longed to get back into it, even with the glass of water spilled over it.

“Holy shit, you smell like a bottle of scotch,” Wyatt said.

“We’ve been celebrating.”

“Go hose off. I’ll make coffee and we’ll get on the road.” Wyatt turned around for the door.

“Wyatt?” I asked.

He stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder at me. He’d trimmed his beard and didn’t look like a man who lived in a tree stump. His brown eyes glowed in the sunlight trickling through my shades.

“Is this a good idea? Nick didn’t seemed thrilled to be related to us.”

This was putting it lightly. Once the private investigator found him, we’d sent all kinds of emails and letters through lawyers. Copies of our birth certificates, Mom’s birth certificate. Photographs. Our dad offered to write a letter. Not sure what good that would do, but it was nice of him to offer.

After no communication for weeks, we finally got a return email.

Sure. I’ll meet you in Boston.

I mean, you almost had to give it up to the guy. I’d never met anyone less excited to meet me. And I was awesome.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Wyatt asked. “He’s our brother.”

“Yeah, but…” I trailed off. My brain could not connect the dots between what I was thinking and my mouth. But I wanted to say – Mom broke this kid’s heart. She left him behind like he didn’t matter.

If I was Nick, I wouldn’t want to know shit about what she did after that.

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