Page 17 of A Brother's Secret

D: Uh huh. Get your asses backhere.

Me: Sir, yessir!

D: Fuckyou.

“What’s so funny?” Mali asked, expression slightly soured, tension radiating from around her exoticeyes.

“Just the guys,” I answered and she frowned slightly, letting her eyes rove my cut. She opened her mouth to ask something but, as if on cue, our waitress returned with our plates. Mali shut her mouth and leaned back as the girl set hers in front ofher.

“Thank you,” she murmured quietly and I had to smile to myself. As caustic as Mali could be when she was scared or on uncertain ground, she was ever, unfailingly, polite. That said more about her than she realized. Now, did I imagine for one minute she would be so polite when it came to the guys and how bossy they could be? Nope. In fact, I figured this was going to be a somewhat rocky homecoming. Not just because Mali was… well… Mali, but also because I’d kept her a secret all of these years.

The guys didn’t know, and I don’t know why I’d kept it that way. Maybe because I was afraid I really would never find her. Probably because I didn’t want them to see me as a failure, not about this… I couldn’t stand to fail when it came to this, toher.

“Kyle, why are you staring?” she demanded, shoving some collard greens into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully, staring at me rightback.

“Guess it’s finally sort of sinking in that this is real, that I finally foundyou.”

“Well I’m not a mirage and this sure as fuck isn’t a dream. A nightmare, maybe, but certainly not a dream.” She looked down at her food and speared another bite with maybe a little more force than was absolutely necessary. I watched her for a minute and deliberated on asking the question on the tip of my tongue.

If there was one thing the MC life had taught me, and hell – even life on the internet – it was that you didn’t ask questions that you weren’t absolutely sure you wanted the answer to. I bit the bullet and asked for this one anyway, though; just without phrasing it like a question.

“Sounds like you maybe aren’t all that happy I foundyou.”

She dropped her fork with a clatter and gave me a look that could peel paint. I couldn’t help but smile, reading her loud and clear. I ducked my head over my own food, pleased that yes, she was indeed happy to see me, she just was having a tough time, like me, with processing all that entailed.

“Don’t be a dumbass,” she grated quietly under her breath and picked up her silverware.

“I’ll try not to be,” I answered and she startled again like she hadn’t realized she’d just said that outloud.

“Good, we don’t have time forit.”

I smiled again and told her, “You ain’t gotta worry about a thing, now. I’ve got this, I promise.”

She snorted and shook her head like she didn’t believe me but didn’t contradict me much beyond that. It was a role reversal, for sure. All growing up she’d had all the street-smarts while I’d been the book-smart one. I just think that she, like me, was still struggling to reconcile the adult in front of her versus how we’d each been when we’d last seen each other.

I knew one thing for sure, I would give anything to be back under our tree, gazing at her sun-dappled hair, laughing about the movie we’d just seen rather than trying to stitch together the ragged ends of our childhood with who we were as peoplenow.

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