Epilogue
Dean
Going back to Canfield, again, was still surreal to me.
Mav and I had stayed away for so long that, at first, it didn’t feel like home anymore.
Of course, the memories were there, the good and the bad, but the more we came back, the more the horrible ones were replaced by even better ones.
Happier times with the Olson family, our bandmates, and Helena.
So maybe this idea of mine wasn’t such a great one.
But when I mentioned it to Maverick, he hadn’t said no.
In fact, he had nodded in agreement and happily climbed into the car with me.
Only now, he looked terrified. Maverick’s eyes had gone wide with fright, his hands fisted into tight fists at his side.
I was terrified that he was going to have some sort of panic or anxiety attack.
Jackson was going to kill me for this. I couldn’t blame him, though.
I should have just come by myself. Or maybe not at all.
“It’s okay, Mav. We don’t have to go inside. Come on. Let’s go back to the car.”
He stared right at me like I wasn’t even there. Shit, this was bad. Somehow, I managed to get him to back to the car and into the passenger side.
“Should I call Jackson? Will that help? Do you want to leave?”
He nodded. Maverick’s chin quivered, then big, fat tears slipped down his cheeks. I never should have brought him with me. I thought he was strong enough, but after the abuse he had dealt with, he might never be.
“Please,” he whimpered. “I need him.”
Just as I started to slide my phone from my pocket, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.
My breath caught in my throat at the sight before me.
The boy—because he couldn’t have been any older than sixteen or seventeen years old—was the spitting image of Maverick and me.
His hair was stark white, his eyes the same emerald green.
He wore a giant smile on his face as he approached, innocence written all over him.
“You’re them,” he whispered. “My brothers.”
What in the actual fuck.
“Dean and Maverick. Right?” His smile grew wider. “Mama said you might come visit. I always hoped I would have the chance to meet you. She’s sick. Is that why you’re here?” He stopped right in front of me. He was exactly my height, too. “You look just like me.”
I stared at him. Did he say brothers? And Mama?
“What?” I gasped.
He waved at Maverick, who had looked like he had just seen a ghost. “I’m Tate. Tate Frost. I can’t believe you’re finally here. Do you want to come inside? I was just going to make soup for lunch for Mama. Would you like some?”
“Tate.” How was it possible that we had brother? One we had no idea about. “How old are you?”
He flashed that bright smile at me. “I’m eighteen, but I’ll be nineteen very soon. Mama said we could have red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting for my birthday. It’s my favorite.”
“Where’s our father, Tate?” I cringed the moment the question came out of my mouth, and I saw Maverick flinch as he wrapped his arms around himself. He had begun to tremble, and I wondered if he was on the verge of a complete meltdown. I had to call Jackson before that happened.
Tate’s entire face fell. “We don’t talk about him. He didn’t want me, but when he left, Mama came to get me and brought me back home. She said it was where I belonged.”
I guess that explained a few things, but I still had so many other questions. Like where had he been when we were kids? Who had raised him?
“He’s a piece of shit,” Maverick grumbled under his breath. “What? Are you going to tell me I’m wrong?” He climbed to his feet, his legs still a little shaky. He grabbed my hand and linked our fingers together, leaning against mine. “Where did you live before?”
Tate chewed on his bottom lip. “Aunt Abby’s. She was so nice. She and I used to make pancakes with chocolate chips for breakfast. She had a dog. Do you have a dog? Mama said we could get one once she starts to feel better.”
I could feel Maverick’s curious gaze as it dug into the side of my head. We had a brother. Why didn’t he live with us? Why had he been hidden away like some dirty secret?
“And why didn’t you live with us? With Mama?” I couldn’t stop the questions as they tumbled from my lips.
“Father didn’t want me.” Pain flashed in Tate’s green eyes. “But now I’m here. And so are you. This is so wonderful. Mama is going to be so happy to see you. We should go inside the house.” He clapped his hands together happily. He seemed so childlike. Innocent.
Doubtful.
Maverick squeezed my fingers. “Tate, I don’t think I can go in there.”
“Why?” Tate’s face fell. “Are you not feeling well?” His eyes ping-ponged between the two of us. “Are you sick like Mama?”
I squared my shoulders. “Mav and I... We don’t have happy memories here. Mom and Dad weren’t good to us.”
“I know.” Tate sighed softly and dropped his chin. “Mama told me some bad things happened that she wished that she could take back. That Father made her treat you terribly, but she loved you both so very much.”
Maverick untangled our fingers, and when I turned to look at him, he was sitting in the car, his arms wrapped around his legs, his face pressed against his knees. Shit, Jackson was going to be so pissed about this. But when I took a step toward him, Tate was quicker than I was.
“It’s okay to get scared,” our brother whispered, his fingers combing through Maverick’s white hair. “I get scared, too, sometimes.” I waited for Mav to push him away or tell him to stop. “When it happens to me, I like to bake or cook. It helps calm me down.”
Maverick raised his head, his green eyes rimmed with red. “What do you cook?”
“Everything. I like to make cakes, cookies, pies! Whatever I feel like. Mama says I spoil her with my food, even though she doesn’t eat much. I can cook for you sometime if you want.” Tate continued to push the hair back from Maverick’s forehead.
Mav nodded as he looked up. “I think that I’d like that.”
“Tate, sweetie, who are you talking to?”
Maverick’s eyes found mine at the sound of our mother’s voice. It had been years since either one of us had heard it. Was it going to be a trigger for him? Was he going to have another panic attack? I needed to get him out of here.
“Dean.” His voice was hardly a whisper as he spoke.
This was a terrible idea. I didn’t know why he listened to me.
I could have come alone. After everything Maverick had done for me over the years, I shouldn’t have brought him back here.
I glanced over at the house to find our mother standing on the steps, dressed in a robe that hung from her rail-thin body, her white hair flying loose in the wind.
She tugged at the belt around her waist before she took a step down the stairs, her hand on the railing.
I was walking toward her before I even realized it, my chin raised high. How could she hide a brother from us? Tate seemed sweet, innocent, and kind. Why did he get special treatment while Maverick and I lived in fear?
“Dean?” Mom’s eyes went wide. “What are you... Is Maverick with you?”
“How dare you!” I spat. “Why? Why is he different?” I glanced behind me, where Tate continued to stand with Maverick.
“He was safe while Maverick suffered. While Maverick was beaten and suffered for being himself. Maverick nearly lost the love of his life because you and Dad... You know what? This was a horrible idea. Mav, we’re leaving. ”
A hand wrapped around my wrist, stopping me before I could turn away.
“I’m sorry. For what he did to your brother.
For what I let him do. For everything that I let happen, and for what I said to him.
Your father...” Mom let out a cough that rattled deep in her chest. “That man was not your real father. He was a man who promised to take care of me, of my children, and I believed him. I know an apology isn’t going to change what happened.
I regret it all the time. The day your Beau came to the house was the day I had enough.
I realized that I had lost out on having a relationship with my children. ”
“I loved Jackson, and you made me push him away.” Maverick was holding onto Tate with one hand as he grabbed onto me.
“I nearly lost myself. Jackson was everything to me, and you just let me give him up. I turned into a horrible person and nearly lost myself. I was cruel. Something I never wanted to be.”
Mom nodded. “I know that. I never should have... Jackson Olson is a wonderful man, Maverick. The Olsons are caring people. They’ve been helping me—”
“What?” Maverick gasped. “You’ve been talking to them?” Anger flashed in his eyes as his nostrils flared. Oh no. Angry Mav was a bad thing. A bomb ready to go off at any moment.
Mom nodded. “Adele has been great. She adores Tate.”
“Mama, we should get you inside. You should be resting.” Tate moved to wrap an arm around Mom and help her back inside the house, leaving me alone with Mav.
I raised my brows. “This is crazy, right? That we have a brother?”
“She apologized,” Maverick whispered. “Did she actually say he wasn’t our father?”
I thought I had heard that, too. “Do you want to go inside? Can you handle that?”
“I don’t know.” Mav chewed on his bottom lip. “What if we could have a relationship with her, Dean? I mean, people forgave me. What if she could be a grandmother to my kids?”
I could see how badly he wanted that, despite everything. “Come on.” I grabbed his hand again. “We can leave any time. Just say the word.”
And together we walked back inside the house we swore we had left forever.