Don'ttalkback.Ifasuperiorgivesyouanorder,youobeyit.Neverquestionthechainofcommand.
His advice echoes in my mind as if it were spoken under the authority of a superior toward a subordinate. But that's the thing: I'm not addressing my colonel; I'm talking to mybrother.
I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table, and ruffle my hair.
“Caspian,” Cordelia mutters. She’s trying to ease the tension in the room, but little does she know it's only thickening the air.
"No, no, no, no. It’s always no," I mutter. It’s childish, but if he wants to see me as a kid, that’s fine. If acting like a spoiled fucking brat gets me what I want, then so be it.
I’ve taken on the responsibility of keeping other factions in check, ensuring that no more wars break out and that teams around the world honor their commitments. I’ve invested blood, sweat, tears, and lives into my work, proving that I am not just the colonel's little brother but a man worthy of respect, even at my young age. Yet, when it comes to this particular issue, I am dismissed and treated like a child in time-out. It’s bloody frustrating and makes me want tofind one of those soldiers overseas who talks too much and oversteps his bounds, just to release some of this pent-up rage without anyone noticing.
At least over there, I command respect.
“What did you–” Caspian starts, but Sam and Jasmine step in from wherever they have been.
Caspian clears his throat, “There are other things we need to focus on right now.”
He slides a glass of bourbon across the mahogany table towards Sam, surprisingly mimicking the motion in my direction as well. Thank God, too, because if I had to go through this somewhat sober, I'd likely be bald by the age of twenty.
“Yes and no,” Cordelia intervenes, “The factions are cooperating thanks to Moe and whatever he’s been doing to keep them in line.”
I offer Sharkie a lopsided grin. Now that’s more like it. I deserve recognition for what I’ve done and how I’ve accomplished things. I’ve worked hard to prove that I can handle intense situations just as well as anyone else. On top of it all, I found an outlet for every twisted, messed-up thing in my head to be released. Fear is the only way to get certain people to cooperate, and I enjoy it a little too much. I thrive on the thrill of taking things slow, the anticipation leading up to whatever might determine someone’s fate. But what I love most of all is being the manipulator. No, that’s not quite right—I love being in control.
Yeah, that makes my moral compass feel a bit better.
Anyway, it works, and it keeps them in line.
“Sam has had the base under control despite his constant need to travel, and with Jasmine's help, we’ve done well addressing concerns as soon as they come.” Sharkie shrugs and pries the bottle of gin from Caspian's hands despite the glare he’s holding.
“We need to keep focusing on the underlying issues, but we also need to start getting others settled in their positions.” She pours a generous glass and slides it to Jasmine before taking her own.
“Not now, Siren,” Caspian warns, using the nickname he reserves only for her in hopes of calming her, but we all know better. She has just as much control over their relationship and our job as he does. Sam shifts back in his seat, pulling Jasmine closer to his chest as she focuses on her cup. Her cheeks turn pink, and she looks nervous, which is typical when Caspian is angry. I don't blame her. While I can handle him better during his rage-fueled fits, I still feel that sinking sensation when he gets too close. Logically, I know he would never hurt me again; it’s just a feeling I haven’t been able to shake ever since I realized how easily he could overpower me.
“Whatever.” Cordelia rolls her eyes and plops into a seat so violently that the table shakes. One thing about Sharkie is that once her mind is set on something, she’s not stopping. That’s why we get along so well—we’re alike in ways neither of us will admit.
“Sam, we’re slowing down your travel time. You’ll be sent out if force is needed, but Moe can handle the faction you've been visiting just as well as anyone else,” Cordelia says firmly.
“Cordelia,” Caspian interjects, and she narrows her eyes at him in response. It's not what I was asking for, but maybe this could work. It could buy me more time to mentally prepare for the disappointment I'm sure to feel when I finally locate my father.
Sam chuckles in amusement. “That’s perfect. I can update Moe on the information, give him access to what has happened, and fill him in on all the events that led to such close surveillance in that area.”
“I’m right here, ya know.” I wave dramatically. They don’t have to talk like I’m not listening to the whole conversation.
“Don't get involved,” Jasmine whispers as if no one can hear her, and Sam tightens his arm around her waist hard enough that she gasps.
“No, if we're going to be some chaotic family, we all get a say, and I say I'm not going on another fuckin’ trip out there. I’m tired of traveling.” Sam grits, but it feels like it's directed not only at Jasmine but also at everyone at the table.
“Where is it?” My enthusiasm clearly doesn't match Caspian's mood. My brother slams his fist on the table, creating a thick silence between us.
“Another time,” Caspian sighs, raising his hand to tap his fingers against the buttons on his chest methodically. The anger boiling in my stomach becomes harder to suppress, so I fling my chair back abruptly, stand up, and push past the dining room without looking back.
“Where are you going?!” Caspian booms, but his voice is muffled by the front door slamming shut. I tug at the collar of my olive-green button-up and slide into the driver’s seat of my car.
Iwantto celebrate his engagement. Iwantto be the one sitting inside, making them laugh, even though all I truly want to do is scream because my mask is slipping.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and a message from Cordelia appears on my dashboard since it's connected through Bluetooth. She’s always been good to me, even when she didn't have to be. From the moment she stepped foot in our territory, she saw me as more than just the leader's little brother. Of course, she still calls me a little shit, even though I easily tower over her, but she recognizes me as more than just the boy on base.
It makes me feel awful for blowing her off, but damn it, I can’t fucking breathe.