Page 82 of Starting Over

“You’re an asshole.”

“That I am. And a bastard; let’s not forget that,” he said, looking around my office. He focused on the picture on my desk. Picking it up, he asked, “Is this her?”

I didn’t answer. I wasn’t in the mood for a family reunion.

“She’s beautiful. Looks like Mom.”

His eyes softened when he spoke of our mother. I wondered how he felt about her. I lied to King when I told him Sal had stopped communication. The truth was our mother had cut him out of her life when we moved.

She had to.

To protect King.

“You know I had no idea where you went until they died,” he admitted, placing the photo back on my desk. “It wasn’t as easy to locate people who didn’t want to be found in the eighties. Eamon wouldn’t let me hire a P.I.; he said it was her choice and to leave it alone.”

He looked up at me and asked, “Was it her choice?”

“Yes.”

He nodded before standing up. I didn’t want to hurt him that way. The reality was my mother loved him and missed him every day. But she sacrificed her own relationship with her oldest son, to be sure King had the choices Sal never had.

Shoving his arms into his coat, he said, “I am going to the clubhouse. You can accompany me and facilitate the introductions, or I can go alone. But I want to meet my brother and my niece. I would also like to meet Justin. We’ve only ever spoken on the phone.”

“His name is Micah. Or Blade. Don’t call him Justin in front of my daughter. It pisses her off.”

He chuckled. “She has Mom’s temper?”

I smiled, thinking about my daughter and the trouble her mouth got her into. “In spades.”

“It’s good to see you, Lannie. Despite the badge on your belt, I’m glad to see you.”

All I could do was nod. We couldn’t have the relationship like we once did, not while I was a cop. But he would always be my brother.

“I’ll lead you over to the clubhouse. They won’t let you in without calling King first,” I said, standing from my seat behind my desk. “And I want to surprise him.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s been a dick.”

“And a surprise meeting with the older brother he’s never met is a punishment?”

“Yes.”

Sal and his men followed me outside. When I climbed into my car, I hit the call button on my phone.

“Hello.”

“Call the prospect on the gate and tell him to let me in when I get there.”

“He always lets you in.”

“I have guests.”

“Who?”

“Jack, just tell him to let us in, and don’t tell King.”

“Dec—”

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