Page 79 of Starting Over

He rose from his seat and shook my hand, thanking me for my time, before walking out. I thought about calling King to give him a heads-up, but he had been acting like a dick lately. I understood things had been hectic the last few months, but the world didn’t revolve around him.

Doesn’t it?

Yeah, my world had revolved around him since the day he was born. He was so small, and all he did was cry for the first few days. I guess that’s what happened when your mother decided she couldn’t take care of you, and instead let the grandmother raise her child.

Babies instinctively knew who their parents were, and when they were born into a strange new place with unfamiliar noises and feelings, they expected the person who kept them safe for nine months to continue doing so.

Those first couple of days were hard. My dad always told me,‘You’re his big brother; it’s your job to protect him, to teach him. Your mother and I won’t always be around, so you have to step up.’

When they died, that was exactly what I did.

I stepped up and became his father, no longer the big brother. He knew I loved him, but he would never know just how much I sacrificed to protect him.

“Sheriff.”

The intercom buzzed again.

“Yes, Martha.”

“Just wanted to remind you of your lunch with the mayor.”

“Thank you, Martha.”

After lunch with the mayor, I had been back in the station for an hour when my intercom buzzed again.

“Sheriff.”

“Yes, Martha.” I tried to conceal the irritation in my voice, but today was one of those days that seemed to be nonstop. Most days, the only time I heard from Martha was a briefgood morning,orgood evening,or to make sure I didn’t forget about lunch.

“There are some gentlemen here to see you.”

“Can you have Deputy Norris show them to my office?”

“I think you should come out here, Sheriff.”

“Martha, please have Norris show them back.”

“No.”

No? Martha never told me no. What the hell was going on?

“Martha, that was an order.”

“No, sir.”

What the fuck?

Getting up from my desk, I stormed out to the front of the station, ready to give Martha a talking to. Except when I saw who was standing in the foyer, I stopped dead in my tracks.

FUCK!

“Hey, Lannie, long time no see.”

Braesal O’Malley, the head of the Irish Mafia and my older brother, was standing in front of me. Dressed in a gray wool peacoat, no doubt a three-piece suit under it.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, not knowing how to address the man that was my hero when I was a kid. The emotion that overwhelmed me also surprised me. I figured if I ever came face-to-face with him again, I would feel disdain or anger.

I expected animosity, or bitterness, maybe even ambivalence. Never did I expect to feel anything like what I was currently experiencing. What surprised me was that I wanted to throw my arms around him and hug him tight.

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