Page 33 of Room Six

My cousin came to us three weeks ago crying that they kidnapped his wife and child. He professed he didn’t know why other than the blood feud between our families.

Rune, Oliver and I promised to get her back and sort everything else out later.

It’s later, and time to sort out the issues.

Oliver walks in, his brows pinched together and the wrath of all the gods curling his lips into a deep frown. I haven’t seen the man look his age since meeting him in grade school and right now every one of his forty-three years is clear in every deep crease across his brow and the edges of his eyes.

Four steps and he is across the home office and burying a set of brass knuckles into the other man’s face. My cousin falls back clutching at his jaw, but given it’s still attached to his face I know Oliver didn’t give him the full force of his unhinged anger.

“You put an innocent woman in the grave all because you wanted to fuck the Hightower king’s daughter you stupid fool.” Oliver never raises his voice and right now it’s pitched so low I have to strain to hear him. When his voice matches a demon’s is when you need to be careful and right now he’s got the devil’s full army at his back.

“This needs to stop. We do not cannibalize our own.”

“No, we kill them and burn them when they commit a steep enough crime.”

My father’s eyes hold mine. If he’s waiting for me to break, he will need to get a chair. He finally looks to my cousin. “Shut up, boy, or they mean to kill you.”

“Look at me you piece of shit.” Oliver clutches Aaron’s swinging chin and forces him to put eyeballs on the blood covering Oliver's hands, neck and shirt. I take another drink and hook my ankle over the other. I will not step in and stop this. My motto is you pay for your crimes on this plane and my cousin will pay for his tonight.

“Look at your wife’s blood on my skin. Her blood on my shirt. These bits and pieces are your wife’s brain. Rune should have shot you in the dick.”

Oliver rears back. This time I don’t see him holding back. My cousin will meet his maker, be it the devil or God.

“Enough!” My father roars, earning him the full force of Oliver’s deathly glare.

My blood brother is heaving with anger when he pivots and heads toward the Sinn elder.

“You didn’t see the girl’s mother lose her brain, old man. You don’t get to step in now. You had your chance. You are the real reason we have a fucking enemy out of the Hightowers to begin with. Shut the fuck up and find a corner to die in.”

A silver cane comes up and strikes Oliver in the chest. “Boy, you are nothing in this family. He gave you a reason to live. He gave you my crown. You didn’t earn it.”

Hemeaning me.

“Didn’t earn it? What would you call me killing three Hightower men tonight? Men who were three weeks ago dropping their kids off at college, not planning war against us? What do you call picking a crying toddler off a rat infested floor who begs for her mommy? I see you old man. I know your sins. Don’t put them at my feet when I am doing nothing but cleaning up your mess. This family would be gone and buried under several more empires if it were not for Rune, me and your son. Your legacy lives on because we stepped in and cleaned out the sewer.”

“Oliver.” I step in when it looks like he’s going to give my father the beating Aaron deserves. “You said your piece. Let the old man hold on to his lies.”

“Someone has to make him face the truth.” Oliver steps over Aaron and heads to the bar. He grabs the glass I left and downs it after refilling Rune’s.

“My wife is dead?”

I grab my cousin by the collar and toss him out of my office. “If he wants to leave, let him,” I tell an enforcer before closing the doors, shutting him and everyone else out. I don’t care what happens to the weasel. Let the Hightowers off him the second he steps off Sinn property. The world would be a better place without him.

My father finds his chair by the fireplace, his gaze already lost in the flames. “What happened?” he asks after a long moment of sitting in silence.

“Did you miss what I said five minutes ago?”

I pull off my t-shirt and toss it onto the sofa opposite of my father’s chair. Between us is a long table used for holding bottles of million-dollar bourbon or signing contracts. Tonight it has bandages, material for stitches and disinfectant.

I signal to Rune and he helps me drag the sofa closer. He sits beside me and I help peel his shirt off to see the damage he took to his right side.

“Son of a bitch. Magnolia is going to be pissed that the rattlesnake and flowers are sliced in two.” She loved tracing the scales and kissing the flowers.

“I’ll make it up to her,” Rune grunts. “If she is still talking to us after this.”

I set to stitching up an eight-inch knife wound. Oliver hands me everything I need, never speaking.

My father’s eyes never leave me as I work. Gears are turning in that head of his. He’s afraid the Sinn empire is falling into the hands of the enemy. I can see it written all over his frail face.

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