Page 85 of The Older Brother
“Hold your ass, I’m opening up!” I punch in the code once the backup lock is undone, and the door begins to roll up with ease as I give it a push from the inside. My eyes are barely able to make out Caleb’s face before his fist sails into my nose, and I stumble back several feet and land on my hip and palm.
‘Fucking fuck!” The blood runs into my lip, the acrid taste of metal making me want to throw up while I stumble to the towel bin and grab a handful of them to stop the bleeding.
“What did you do? I know this is you, Rowan. It’s always you, so tell me . . . what the fuck did you do?” Caleb comes at me, lunging with his fist, but I’m able to block his punch, catching his fist in my open hand.
I push him back, bending his wrist and nearly breaking it as I growl out, “Calm your ass down!”
He shirks me off and runs his forearm along his nose.
“You’re not the one bleeding, you shit. What are you sniffling for?” I pull the towel back to test the bleed, and it’s already soaking with crimson red. “Fuck,” I mutter, tossing the soiled towels into the corner and grabbing a new handful.
“The feds came in today. Did you know that? I bet you knew that already. They tossed over every drawer in the office, made Allison and me and the rest of the staff wait in the break room while they took us out one at a time to interview us. I was grilled like I’d committed some sort of murder, Rowan! The guy warned me that any lie I told meant years in prison. What the fuck did you get us into?”
He thrusts two palms into my chest, sending me back a few steps into the counter. I catch myself against the sharp edge and lunge back at him, pushing him several times until he falls on his ass and begins to scurry his feet to scoot away from me. I squat down, tossing my bloodied towels to the side again as I grab a fistful of his expensive shirt and tie.
“I didn’t do shit, Caleb. Dad did. And it’s his fault that any of this is happening,” I growl.
“You fucking lie!” he screams, his face red, and our roles suddenly becoming clear-cut. I’m the older brother. He’s my little brother. He’s scared, and I’m supposed to keep the bad guys away. Only this time, the bad guy happened to be one of ours.
“He’s not lying, Caleb.” Saylor’s calm voice cuts through the toxic air between my brother and me, and I stand up and take a few steps back to give him space as we both look at her.
“Jesus, Rowan. Your face.” She’s wearing my clothes, and I’m sure that’s all Caleb is focusing on as she pads in her bare feet to the towel bin, grabbing twice as many as I’ve been using before delivering them to me.
“I got it,” I say, taking a few from her. She gives me a hard look, though, so I let my shoulders sag before pulling a stool close so I can sit and let her tend to my busted nose.
“He got a good shot in,” I say, figuring giving my brother credit for the cheap shot might calm him down a little.
“I got a few in,” he adds. Fucker still can’t just take what he gets. He always needs to embellish. I glance at Saylor for a beat, but she’s focused on the rage display that walked into her refuge.
For a few long seconds, the only sound filling the garage is Caleb and my panting sounds and the occasionaltskfrom Saylor as she pinches the bridge of my nose and presses a second towel up and into my nasal passages. I can barely breathe. I’m going to need to get this thing looked at. It’s broken.
“I don’t know why you’re defending him,” Caleb finally gripes. “They took your mom in. Put her in cuffs. Your mom, Saylor.”
She draws in a long, steady breath as she studies my brother.
“Good. She probably deserved it.” Her resolved tone only sets Caleb off again, and he gets to his feet and begins to pace around us in circles.
“Oh, he’s got you so poisoned now. You guys are unbelievable. You’re so into thiseat the richmantra that you can’t even see how crazy you are. Just because our dad makes a shit ton of money doesn’t make him a bad person, Rowan. How have you never seen that?”
My heart nearly aches for my brother’s naivety. Nearly. But not quite.
“Caleb, I don’t think our dad is an asshole for being rich. I think he’s an asshole . . . period. He’s a bad guy, and he’s done some awful things. If you only knew.”
“So, tell me,” Caleb challenges.
I exhale, because as much as I’d love to rattle off the list, I swore I wouldn’t make him more involved than he needs to be.
“Your dad slept with my mom. It’s why my parents divorced. And it’s why your mom left. And why she set the beach house on fire.”Well fuck.I guess Saylor didn’t make any promises.
Caleb’s head begins to shake with his sudden laughter.
“That’s absurd.” He knows it’s not. I can tell by the nervous tinge in his voice, the high pitch of his laugh, the way his smile isn’t reaching his eyes. And when his gaze slides to mine, I can’t lie anymore.
“I didn’t burn down the beach house,” I say, and the way my insides begin to buzz with a thousand volts of electricity makes me wonder if I’m about to die or lift off and fly.
The relief of saying it out loud, for a second time, is intense. Perhaps even more because it’s Caleb I’m telling.
My brother shakes his head and furrows his brow.
