Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
H unter
Pain and sorrow seemed synonymous with family.
I’d experienced both together and separately during my years on this earth, yet at this moment, I found them difficult to deal with.
The day I’d arrived in Danger Falls I’d been angry, swept up in a determination that I’d see my parents again, wish them well, and return to my solitary life. Seeing my brothers in the same room had brought up bad memories, time spent together as adults almost nonexistent.
Army. Navy. Marines.
We’d covered the bases inside the military, performing our duties like heroes.
But not one of the three of us felt that way.
Even though we were decorated soldiers, the work we’d gravitated toward after leaving our positions had painted all our decent accomplishments with blood. Not that we’d talked about our experiences. It had been forbidden to do so, nondisclosure agreements preventing any of us to provide a single detail of our positions.
Yet we knew.
Call it a sixth sense or maybe a brotherly connection, but three Fox brothers were damaged individuals. We’d remain that way until the day we died.
But as I stepped from my truck, I witnessed the same expression on both brothers that I likely wore. Sadness.
As much as the three of us had wanted to hate our father, he was blood. He’d raised us. He’d taught us right from wrong. He’d instilled a sense of honor for our family and our country. Sure, he’d been a tough taskmaster, unforgiving of our foibles or sins, but he was still our father.
And our mother needed us now more than ever.
Shephard walked forward, the smile I’d last seen as he’d said yes to marrying the love of his life no longer on his face. His expression was stern, but I knew the capable and powerful man was hiding his feelings.
As we all had over the years.
Allowing ourselves to feel anything meant awakening our consciences. Doing so would mean remembering. That wasn’t going to happen.
Shephard exhaled as I approached, looking the other way. I couldn’t see his eyes as they were hidden behind dark shades, even though the day had dawned gray. Snow was still in the forecast, the chill in the air pricking at my insides.
“Dad arrived home late last night,” my oldest brother told us without being prompted. “Mother convinced him to have a few tests run.”
“And?”
“Nothing new.”
Which meant he was still dying.
Two days had passed since I’d spent the night with Esme. Two days of the two of us keeping to ourselves. Two days since I’d felt alive for the second time in years. On this day, I didn’t want those feelings. Not now. Maybe not ever again.
Two days since she’d asked me to teach her how to shoot. If I still had tighter connections with the people I’d once worked for, I’d track down why she’d been so damn terrified and why she was determined to protect herself. The jury was still out on whether I’d grant her wish.
“How is he?” Jagger asked. He stood a few steps away, staring at our parents’ home as if fearful to go in.
Hell, I felt the same way. It was as if we were giving the man last rights and he was still very much alive. Dexter Fox had always been a force to be reckoned with, a large man at six foot three, always buff and always with a grim demeanor. He’d been highly respected while serving in the Marines, decorated to the hilt for his bravery.
I sometimes wished I’d known him then instead of growing up with the aftereffects of his service.
He was different now and not just in his physical stance. Whatever he’d been through in the wars had changed him. He’d taken out his need to build a strong army on his three boys. Even that hadn’t soothed the beast crawling inside of him.
He’d turned to illegal activities in a high-end world of corporate espionage, even if he refused to admit his savage deeds to this day. I still found his venture into a world of white collar crime hard to buy.
“He’s in a bad way,” Shephard answered. “He doesn’t look the same. Just be prepared.”
“Didn’t he have chemo? What about radiation? Did he just give up?” Jagger barked out. He was more upset than I’d seen him since meeting Bella. But this was exactly the way he’d been when he arrived in town. Angry with everyone.
“His doctors told him neither one was working. Aside from some drugs they put him on, he decided not to go to any extreme measures.” Shephard was watching me as he was providing both of us with information. “I guess the tests confirmed what he already knew.”
“What the fuck? He has more money than God. I heard they’re having amazing success with some clinical trials in Switzerland. We’ll send him there.”
“He doesn’t want to go, Jag,” I told him just as gruffly as his tone had been.
His glare was harsh. “What the fuck do you care?”
I immediately got in his face, ready to throw a punch.
“Stop it. Both of you,” Shephard hissed. “Fighting about this isn’t going to do any good or change his mind. He wanted his last months spent traveling, enjoying exotic places, sharing new experiences with our mother.”
“Cause he never did when he was healthy. The bastard.” Jagger was right. Our father had worked himself to death, including with the resort.
The sudden quiet between us was typical. Although we’d gotten closer over the last few months, that didn’t mean we knew how to really talk to each other. Mostly, we talked at each other. We chided the other’s mistakes, teased when it seemed appropriate, and occasionally gave an ‘atta boy’ when something went right.
But we were barely family.
I took a deep breath, noticing our mother had come out onto the porch. Even from a distance, she appeared more haggard. The struggle had been real and she was suffering as much as our father. “Let’s go inside.” I wasn’t one for providing comfort to anyone. It had never been in my nature, time spent destroying lives squashing all hope I’d ever be a nice guy.
None of us said anything else as we headed toward the house. Mother’s face brightened the closer we came. She hugged all three of us, but as she turned away after holding me, I could see tears in her eyes. She’d adored her husband through thick and thin, always by his side supporting him in every decision he’d made.
Good or bad.
“He’s in a mood today,” she said quietly before opening the door. “Don’t expect much.”
In a mood. As usual. But this time, I couldn’t blame him.
The beautiful cabin was immaculate, the massive windows covering one whole side of the home highlighting the recent snowfall in the mountains. There was a crackling fire in the fireplace and music playing. Yet this wasn’t a happy time.
There’d been so few of those or maybe my memory bank was jaded. I led the way into the living room behind our mother, immediately noticing Pops sitting in his favorite leather chair with a drink in his hand. I had a feeling our mom had stopped admonishing him for drinking in the morning.
At this point, what did it matter?
He didn’t bother looking in our direction, even though he heard us coming. It was impossible not to with our boots on the hardwood floor. He was staring out the window. I wondered if he was searching for salvation as I’d done countless times.
Maybe if he’d provided more stories about his time served in the military it would have made our lives easier to deal with. At this point, there was no sense in looking back. Things were never going to be the way we’d wanted them.
Shephard moved around the three of us, heading toward our dad. He hunkered down in front of him, speaking so softly I couldn’t understand what he was saying. When my brother lifted his head, he motioned us forward.
I’d never felt so damn awkward in my life.
How I’d hated coming here to a small town I wanted no part of. Now I was angry with myself that I hadn’t kept in touch, instead locking myself away in a city that held no meaning, working a labor-based job I loathed just to keep from thinking.
Same as my brothers. We were alike. My mother had called all of us selfish.
She was right.
“Hey, Pops,” I said in a much softer voice than I usually used. I approached slowly, as if his cancer was catching.
He lifted his head, holding out his arm so we could clasp hands in a sense of brotherhood.
“I heard what you did,” he said in a rough voice. It was gruffer than before, the disease taking a tremendous toll on every aspect of his body. He was thirty pounds lighter, his hair thinner, but he still had the same twinkle in his eyes he’d had as a younger man. That had been the only way his kids had known when he was happy or thrilled with something.
“Meaning?” I lifted my eyebrows.
“Hiring that chef. People are raving about her. Do you know your mama and I heard about her excellent food all the way in New York?” He started coughing, the coughing turning into wheezing. The wheezing turning into choking.
And finally spitting blood into a paper towel.
I glanced up at my mom. Her expression was blank, but her eyes were reflective of her soul. She loved him with all her heart and the life was slowly being crushed out of her.
None of us knew what to say that would be of comfort. I hunkered down after Shephard stood, looking my dad directly in the eyes. It had been a long time since I’d felt good enough to do so. “She’s great, Dad. Business is sky rocketing. I’ll ask her to make you a special dinner. Would you like that?”
He continued to cough and Mother came closer, placing her hand on his shoulder. “He’d love that, Hunt. We both would. Maybe you can ask her to make a special pasta for the two of us.”
I could tell by what she didn’t say that Dad was having a tough time digesting food. He’d been a steak and potatoes man his entire life. To have something he loved taken away was also cruel.
His hand was shaking, some liquid from his drink spilling out onto his pants. I gently took the glass from his hand, giving him a nod. “Let me refill it for you, Dad.”
“Thanks, son.”
As I stood, Jagger finally walked closer. It was rare to see tears in my brother’s eyes, but they were there.
I tried to block out anything they were talking about as I headed toward the bar. It was far enough away from where he was sitting I managed to tune out the words. But not the emotion. It was just about the toughest time I’d ever experienced.
My mother flanked my side, leaning against the mahogany so she could see my face. “Don’t be sad, Hunter. Your father is happy and content with what’s going to happen.”
“And you?”
It seemed she hadn’t expected me or anyone to ask how she was doing. Her facial features softened. “I’m fine. He’s had some very good days. We’ve enjoyed our time together.”
The drink refreshed, I turned to face her. “Mama. You’re strong, but you can lean on us. We’re here.”
“I know you are, son. I appreciate that, but what you’re doing with the resort and the winery has made your dad an even happier man. He knew he could count on the three of you. You never let him down.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“I do. He adores all of you,” she said.
“He’s had a funny way of showing it.”
She tried to smile as she touched my arm. “Just trust me. I know. I’m so sorry the four of you haven’t been closer, but there’s still time. It’s important. Family is important.”
I glanced toward Dad; he’d recovered from the coughing spell, now telling some story about some amazing location they’d gone to. “You’re right.”
“I heard you were dating.” A sly grin swept across her face.
“Let me guess, Shephard opened his big mouth.”
“He just said there’s a woman who can handle you.”
How could I not laugh at the statement? “Yeah, she can. She’s tough. She reminds me of you.”
She playfully punched me in the arm. “You deserve happiness, my sweet Hunter boy. You were so emotional as a child. You appreciated everything. You were a bright shining star, but somehow, that star became tarnished. I know. You can’t talk about what happened to you, what you went through, but you’re here now. If Esme makes you happy, grab onto it with everything you have. Don’t let her get away. Trust me, you’ll never forgive yourself.”
I mulled over what she’d just said, my thoughts turning to the fiery woman. “I’m not sure she really wants to see me again.” And I wasn’t. After I’d finished cutting wood, she’d said thank you and that she’d see me at work. I don’t know what I’d expected.
Or wanted.
“Oh, fiddlesticks. You just need to learn about the ways of a woman.”
“How so, Mama?” I couldn’t wait to hear this.
“I don’t care how independent a woman is or how many times she tells you she can do things for herself, she really doesn’t mean it. She wants flowers for no occasion. She appreciates little things, like if you cook dinner or do a load of laundry. Never forget about romance. Candles. A romantic walk. A night out on the town. A morning in bed drinking coffee while you read to her.”
I almost choked myself. “Me, read to her? Um…”
“You know what I mean. Find out what makes her tick and go to the ends of the earth to make it happen. I assure you that girl will finally see what an amazing catch you are.”
“You might be right.”
“Oh, one more piece of advice,” she told me. “Women are always right.”
As the three of us had done the first time we came to the house, we stood outside in the cold with drinks in our hands. The silence was similar to that first day we’d arrived in town, only for an entirely different reason.
“I hate seeing him like that,” Jagger finally said as a way of breaking the ice.
“Yeah, me too.” I wasn’t certain what to add at this point.
“He seems happier than before. That’s a positive.” Shephard shook his head. “I heard what you said about making a special dinner. I think that would be great. Maybe the entire family could come.”
“I’ll talk to Esme,” I told them.
Jagger lifted an eyebrow. “How’s it going with the two of you?”
“Fine. Cordial.” They both stared at me. “Okay, more than just cordial. But she’s a ballbuster.”
They both laughed. “Exactly what you need,’’ Shephard chortled.
“Why does everyone keep telling me that?”
“Because,” Jagger leaned in, “you’re turning into an old guy right in front of our eyes. Have you seen the gray hair at your temples?”
As if on cue, I touched my forehead. They laughed again. “Damn you both.” I took a gulp of my drink. “I do like her.”
“That’s what happens, bro,” Jagger said. “Soon, you’ll be buying a ring.”
“Over my dead body!” At least I could laugh, even if it hurt doing so. Our father had gone to rest and here we were standing outside drinking as if there wasn’t a care in the world.
It felt wrong, but somehow as if we were celebrating his life.
“Look, I need to say something, but don’t get all bent out of shape.”
Shephard narrowed his eyes. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“Yeah, well, maybe it isn’t. I’ve had some threats.” The words just tumbled out of me.
Both men looked at each other. “What?” Shephard asked.
“Yeah, a text and a single piece of paper via letter form. The asshole called me a murderer. Said he was watching me. Waiting.”
“That sounds like a damn stalker,” Jagger said as he shook his head. “Do you have any idea who sent it?”
“Of course not. Cleverly handled. Unknown on my phone.”
Shephard had a serious look on his face. “I don’t like the sound of that. Any thoughts on who tracked you down?”
“No one should be able to. My identity was wiped from every database. Supposedly.”
The two of them had been through something similar. One had been a local asshole, the incident very personal. I doubted my culprit was similar to what had occurred with Jagger, but that didn’t mean the mark I’d eliminated didn’t have a family eager and willing to hunt me down. Information could always be discovered for the right price.
“Well, fuck. It seems all three of us were targeted.” Jagger huffed. “Funny that we worked for different groups, but same shit happened. Coincidental?”
“How would I know?” I asked, although Jagger was right in that all three of us having our whereabouts compromised seemed impossible to be a coincidence.
“You might want to reach out to the people you worked for.”
Shephard’s suggestion was a good one, but I doubted anyone was still around that I could contact. “The entire program shut down. All files were destroyed and there’s no mention of our operation anywhere. Not a single database. I couldn’t track down the person in charge if I wanted to.” Except for the emergency number I’d programmed into my phone. Keeping it was against the rules, but my gut had told me doing so would be a good idea.
“Then you’re in a bad place, brother.” Jagger whistled.
“Tell me about it. I just wanted you to know.” For what reason I wasn’t certain. One thing I did. Our three pasts had been similar and for my brothers, the choices made and lives destroyed had caught up to both of them.
Had they survived? Yes, of course.
Were they stronger men? Likely so and more appreciative of the simpler things in life.
Would their good fortune both in remaining alive and finding solace in settling down follow me?
The answer was short, but not sweet.
Not a chance in hell.