Page 21 of Give Me Love

“That was a long time ago,” I say.

“Was it?” he asks. “Was it a long time ago when you came home so piss-drunk that you couldn’t walk up the steps?”

“The fuck you getting at, Jace?” My voice is louder than I meant it to be, and everyone at the table looks our way.

“Just reminding you, you’re not a fucking saint, brother. And you are your father’s son.”

I reach over and grab him, standing him up as I do and backing him to the wall. “Don’t you ever compare me to that weak motherfucker again. Do you hear me?”

Jace laughs and sniffs, pushing me back with his shoulder. “Now, who’s getting everyone upset?”

“Stop it,” Pops says.

I narrow my eyes at Jace and shake my head. My appetite disappears, and I push away from him and head for the hallway. Emily calls after me, but I need a goddamn minute.

With anger boiling, I head to the shop and grab my helmet and gear. Jumping on my bike, I kick-start it and haul ass through the fields until my mind empties self-doubt and worry that my brother is right. I may be just like the man I’ve tried so hard not to be.

__________

I park the car on the side of Red, and we step out. Jace sniffs and rubs his nose. I ignore my brother’s constant idea of fun and climb the stairs to my loft apartment above the club.

I unlock my door, and we walk in. Jace was already a few liquor drinks drunk at Lee’s, and then he added a few more beers in after dinner. He immediately goes for the whiskey, and I grab the bottle after he pours himself a glass. I toss mine back and head for the shower, needing to wash this day off.

“Hey, brother.”

I turn before walking into the bathroom.

“I’m sorry about that shit I said at the table. I didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah,” I say, looking down. “Yeah, you did.”

My brother and I have a bond like no other, but sometimes, I swear, the boy has some kind of built-up anger for me.

I know I messed up when we were younger. I was a bad example, and I’ve tried to make it better by sharing everything I have with him, but it’s not enough. He holds grudges, and every now and again the truth comes out.

I wasn’t perfect, and he remembers.

I disappear into the bathroom, and twenty minutes later, I head down, ready to see how the tables are doing and what the guest list looks like.

__________

Red is packed with rave dancers and drunks looking for a one-night stand. Bobby, my bartender, greets me.

“My usual,” I tell him. I look toward the rear of the club.

There’s an all red brick wall in the very back beside the bar. A door is there, with a matching brick wall in front, tricking the human eye into thinking it’s just a regular wall.

But once you step through, you make a right turn down a hallway and then a left. This hallway connects my building to the one beside it.

“’Preciate it, Bobby.” I stand and make my way toward the end of the bar.

Looking out at the floor, I see my brother dancing with his pick of the night. We make eye contact for a brief moment before I step through the hidden door and around the brick wall. The sound of water boiling and dishes clinking surrounds me. Cooks and preppers cut up as I walk through the enormous loud kitchen.

“Mr. Bryce,” Antonio, the executive chef, says. “Come here. You must try this.”

I shake my head and hold my hands up because this man is always trying to feed me.

“Aw, come on, Mr. Bryce. You must try Antonio’s famous carbonara. It’s the best a hundred miles from here,” his sous-chef beams.

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