Chapter 12 Oxley
OXLEY
Outside of my family and Nori, I’ve never seen someone stand up to Kairo before. I think the reason is primarily what I said. Not because everyone is necessarily afraid of him, but because of the weight that comes with his name.
That’s not to say that my brother isn’t a dangerous man. I’m sure he’s killed far more people than most of us. He’s just the type of person who likely takes joy in it. He likes to feel powerful. Taking someone’s life is the ultimate power grab, right?
The shock on his face when Huntley came after him had me frozen in shock. Right until Kairo went in for the attack.
I meant what I said. Kairo doesn’t bother me. No matter how vile and angry he gets, he’s just talk. I’m not under the impression that he actually likes me deep down. I’m not even convinced that there’s so much as familial affection or loyalty there.
Not once in my entire life has he even threatened to become violent with me. He wants someone to yell at. He wants a verbal punching bag. I serve that purpose. In a way, I’m a safe space for him to take out his anger on.
I don’t provoke him. I don’t interrupt him. I don’t react at all. He can literally just spew whatever shit he wants for as long as he wants before walking away.
There are things he’s said continuously over the years that I’ve come to understand bother him. There’s almost always a comment about how I’m treated differently from him and the rest of our brothers. He hates that. It drives him insane that I get what he views as special treatment.
He’s extra bitter because he wanted Anaheim, and I took it.
Jalon allowed us to choose cities in birth order.
Which simply meant, I came first. I wanted Anaheim because it’s close to home.
If Arath or Noaz had wanted Anaheim, I’d have given it up.
Kairo has always been a dick, so I didn’t feel the need to be nice.
He’s good for Chicago, though. Chicago has been a dangerous city for a long time. It’s overcome with crime, and law enforcement is failing at getting it under control. Kairo’s ruthless abandon has made headway in recent years. That’s where he’s needed.
“You think he’s actually going to leave Anaheim?” Huntley asks.
I nod and scoop him into my arms. He gives me a flushed smile as I bring him back into my bedroom. “He’ll leave, and likely won’t be back for quite some time.”
“You think it’s because I hit him with my crutch or because you finally stood up to him?”
“Both,” I answer.
“I don’t understand why you let him treat you like that.”
I set him on the bed gently and help him adjust the bedding and pillows until he’s comfortable.
“Because I think he needs it. I’m the only one who doesn’t react to his verbal spewing.
Everyone sees it as hostile and reacts as such.
In a way, I think it’s him releasing his insecurities somewhere that’s safe.
I’m not like Jalon, trying to get Kairo to talk about what’s behind his anger.
Or Arath, who will lay him out like a crash-test dummy.
Or Noaz, who has a way of making him feel small and insignificant.
Then there are our nephews. Loren will gut him like a fish.
Kairo has a scar on his gut from Loren. He’s very careful not to cross him now. ”
Huntley’s eyebrows knit together in concern.
“I don’t react, and I think maybe Kairo needs that sometimes.”
“There are other ways to get someone to listen to you vent without verbally abusing them,” he deadpans.
“There are,” I agree. “Kairo has been an angry person since we were children. For as long as I can remember, he’s been angry. It’s something he needs to work through.”
“He’s like, thirty,” Huntley scoffs. “When is he going to work through it?”
“He’s thirty-four, and I think he’s lonely.”
Huntley shakes his head. There’s no sympathy there. I press a kiss to his lips, enjoying the way he sighs, relaxing onto the bed. “Thank you for wanting to protect me.”
His phone rings, and his shoulders sag. I reach for it, finding the ID stating it’s the company he works for. Huntley scowls at the phone as he answers.
“Hello?” Pause. “Yes.” There’s wariness in his voice, and I’m guessing it’s his boss, Nick-the-Dick.
However, as I concentrate on his face, I watch the wariness give way to confusion and surprise. There’s the occasional acknowledgement of whatever Nick-the-Dick is saying; otherwise, he listens.
It’s a short conversation. When Huntley hangs up a few minutes later, he stares at the phone as if seeing it for the first time.
“What happened?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” Huntley says, shaking his head. “That was probably one of the weirdest phone calls I’ve ever had.”
“Who was it?”
“My boss. He apologized. He says his behavior was inexcusable. He said that he can’t imagine what I’m going through and that he wishes me a recovery without complications. He told me to take my time, assured me my job is safe, and he asked if I needed anything.”
His eyes meet mine, and I smile. “Good. That’s how he should have responded to begin with.”
“But… I’ve worked there for two years, and I’ve never heard him say anything like that. It’s weird.”
“Sounds like he’s been taught a lesson in compassion.”
Huntley’s frown remains. He doesn’t answer. I’m a little surprised when he doesn’t put it together that maybe I had a hand in this. I told him I clean up the crime in the city.
Hmm. Actually, I told him that my team tries to intercept that hate violence. I suppose that’s not the same thing.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
He nods. “Yes.”
“Want to come into the kitchen with me?”
Huntley smiles widely. “Yes, I do. I want to walk with my crutches.”
I didn’t think this through. I’d rather have him just let me carry him. Sighing, I nod. “I’ll go get them.”
I’m relieved when I have Huntley back in bed and off his leg. Mark has been saying he needs to begin PT, and I know Huntley has mentioned it a couple times as well.
It’s not that I want him to be bound to the bed. But I like waiting on him. I enjoy it. I love being at his beck and call.
However, there are things I need to do, and having him stuck in the bed will only cause me a whole lot of anxiety if I need to leave the house. The things I need to do require me to leave the house.
It’s midday when Huntley takes a nap. I think the excitement of Kairo and then his walking around the kitchen and getting some fresh air on the balcony tired him out.
Once he’s comfortably asleep, I head back to the balcony and call Nori.
“Hey, boss.”
“Hey. How’s everything?”
“We’re good. How’s your injured boyfriend?”
Boyfriend. My stomach flips. Wow. I have a partner. That’s… big. “He’s good. Sleeping.”
“Good. How’re you?”
“I’m fine. Listen. I need you to track Kairo. You still have the tracking on his phone?”
Her amusement is evident in her answer. “I do.”
“Good. He was here earlier, and I want to make sure he leaves the city.”
“It seems he’s already in the air since he’s moving at over five hundred miles an hour.”
At least he took my threat seriously. That’s something. I’m not sure I have it in me to kill my brother. Even if that brother is Kairo. But right now, I want him to think I’m just that unfeeling.
“Heading toward Chicago?”
“Seems that way.”
“Good to hear. Now talk to me about the shooting in which I disappeared. Were there specific targets? Other injured?”
“No to specific targets that we can figure out. Their ammunition is hunting grade, so they were there to cause serious damage and pain. There were three hits, none of which were hit to kill. They wanted survivors. They wanted their targets to hurt.”
I press my lips together. Though I’m unsurprised, it irritates me. “What else?”
“Three weapons were shot. I’m not sure whether it’s intentional, but two were hitting nowhere near where there were pedestrians. They were shooting for effect. It should also be noted that the bullets used in these weapons were what you’d expect when aimed at another human.”
“So one shooter was intending to hit targets, but not for the kill.”
“Yes. Maximum damage.”
Sighing, I shake my head. “Tell me you have a name.”
“I have the names of about a third involved in that day.
“I need the name of the man who shot people.”
“I’m working on it, boss.”
“Should I ask Voss to get involved?”
“Not yet,” Nori says. “I’ll let you know if I need more invasive procedures than I’m capable of. But right now, I’m learning a lot. I’m tracking names and movement. I’m okay.”
“Keep me apprised.”
“Of course. Are you planning to kill that man yourself?”
“I am.”
“Can I be present?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I know the other two he shot. One will never walk again.”
Chills race over my body. “Was that his goal?” I wonder.
“I don’t know. Will your boyfriend walk?”
“He will.”
“Based on the angle of the bullet holes where the injured were, I think he didn’t have a good angle on your guy, nor the second guy. The third, he had a clear shot and maybe succeeded in achieving his goal.”
“He only got three shots off?”
“Yes. Only three. He stopped shooting a hundred feet down the street and didn’t turn off the street until the lighted intersection.”
“Huh.”
“Yep, my thoughts too. Either he only had three bullets, he accomplished his goal or… something else.”
“To confirm, this was a hate crime of the same nature as we’ve been seeing, correct?” That’s why we’d been following this group, anyway.
“Mmm,” Nori says, and I think I hit on something that she’s been considering too. “I thought so.”
“You’re having second thoughts?”
“Two of the names we’ve recovered are religious zealots.
One is a former politician known for his radical right-wing ultra-conservative views, wanting to bring the Nazi ideology to the US.
Both are obviously strongly against the LGBTQ community; however, it could very well be just one bullet point on their long list of transgressions,” Nori says.
“There are other names too, but these three in particular are very interesting.”
“A larger plot.”
“Something you’ll find interesting is that there are two men involved in this particular group, though not as of yet tied to this specific incident, who have ties to Jessup Prosser.
One was a former employee at the time Jessup worked at the prison.
His position was terminated shortly before Jessup was murdered. ”
“Curious. The second?”
“A former inmate. One that had seemingly made friends with Jessup.”
“Strange coincidences.”
“Right?”
“Do you have the names of the cops who had been giving Jessup special treatment?” I ask.
“Yes. Jessup has come up a few times while researching this incident. I keep wanting to think that it is a complete coincidence that your boyfriend is Jessup’s son’s close friend.”
“How do you know that?” Had I told her his name and forgotten?
Nori is amused when she answers. “Boss, it’s my job to know things.”
I huff.
“Right now, it is a coincidence, but there’s a lot here to process that keeps suggesting it’s not.”
“One more question before I digest this. The other two shot—do they have any ties with Oren?”
“Good question. Yes. One works at the Nutter Bean. The other is someone who commented on one of Jessup’s bullshit posts about how he’d always suspected Jessup was abusing his children.”
“What more do we need to bring this out of coincidence?” I muse.
“What’s more frustrating than answering that question is how this fucking man is still wreaking havoc when he’s been buried six feet under for an entire year,” she says in almost a growl.
She’s not wrong. We need to put an end to this. A man like Jessup Prosser cannot be allowed to make this kind of change in the world.