Chapter One
Damascus
Two Days Later
Post Ethan’s Return
Well, this was one hell of a predicament to be in, and Callen Whitefox knew it. He always wanted his brother to come home so that they could spend time together and heal their rift, but this was not how he saw all of this going down.
Frankly, it freaked him out in ways he’d never seen coming. Oh, and he wasn’t the only one worried.
Not.
Even.
Close.
Wyler was too.
Their shared sperm donor wasn’t exactly thrilled to know his eldest son had returned to the reservation.
Why?
If there was anyone who had Ethan’s ire more than Callen, it was the man who left Catherine alone to die.
Because of that, the man was shaking in his boots.
That said it all. No one wanted to tangle with an angsty Ethan Blackhawk.
No.
One.
The only person not having a breakdown over Ethan’s return was the old man. Timothy Blackhawk was in his glory that his prodigal son had returned to the scene of so many crimes.
Likely because he was meddling as usual.
But Callen…
He was scared.
Why?
Well, maybe because when he expected Ethan to return next, he fully expected a punch to the face, and then bedlam. Only, that wasn’t what had happened.
Not.
Even.
Close.
Instead, his brother showed up at his home, and he’d looked like he was going through the war.
His eyes were red, he looked exhausted, and his whole spirit looked…broken.
This was bad.
Callen had opened the door to him, and Ethan promptly walked in, went to the couch, and laid down without saying a single, solitary word. In fact, he pulled the blanket over him that Callen kept on the back of the couch.
And he slept.
Oh, but Callen suspected that it wasn’t going to be the good kind of sleep.
Not.
At.
All.
It was reminiscent of the kind of sleep that you had when you were hiding from something big.
And make no mistake, Callen knew this man well, despite him being away for a while.
Yeah, his brother was hiding.
Bet.
On.
It.
How did he know?
Well, Callen had done that same thing when he’d come back from New Orleans, after his brother ghosted him there. He’d come back angry, bitter, and heartbroken.
The only place to hide was in sleep, so he wouldn’t take it out on the world.
So, he recognized it in a person when he saw it, and Ethan was DEFINITELY feeling those things. Now, the big question was what the hell had happened?
Did he break up with the person he was seeing?
Did he kill someone and was hiding?
Did something happen at work?
Instead of sticking around and asking the very volatile man any questions, Callen did what any self-respecting Native man who had dealt with Ethan before would do when his estranged brother came and confiscated his home.
HE.
RAN.
Yeah, he was no one’s fool. There was no way he was going to poke that bear.
PASS.
So, he got his ass into his truck and drove across the reservation right to the bringer of shit, Timothy Blackhawk, the Shaman extraordinaire.
Because there was no doubt that he’d done something to make Ethan come back. Timothy was known for a few things.
Helping other Natives in the smoke.
Being bossy as hell.
Oh, and meddling.
Callen was betting it was the last one, and it was because of the first and middle reasons too.
This trifecta was going to bite someone in the ass, and Callen wasn’t going to offer himself up as that sacrificial lamb.
NOPE.
The bottom line was that his brother hated it here, and he hated being near anyone who reminded him of his past.
Now, he was back, and he looked like shit.
Oh, and Callen knew what that was like.
He’d done a stint coming off pain meds, so been there, and done that.
Only, Ethan didn’t look addicted.
He looked broken.
So, when he got to Timothy to tell him what he’d encountered, he was already aware the man was back, and he told Callen to do the smartest thing.
Avoid.
His.
Brother.
Which was exactly his plan, but if Timothy was saying that something bad was brewing, then something HORRIBLE was heading their way.
That brought them to the family meeting that Timothy had called in order to deal with the situation.
No one wanted to mess with an angry Ethan Blackhawk, so hopefully, they figured out how to avoid that.
“He will be fine,” Timothy stated, as his son and grandson were sitting across from him at the table.
Only, Callen didn’t believe that.
If fine had a look, it wouldn’t be what he saw when his brother appeared.
“Uh, I saw him. He didn’t look fine. He didn’t snarl at me, and he didn’t threaten me. He walked right past me, went to my couch, and pulled a blanket over himself.”
Tomothy was aware.
He felt the shift that morning in the smoke, and he knew what was going on. Now, he had to hope for one thing, and one thing alone.
A miracle.
What they all needed was that the man who would keep his grandson on this path would show up.
It all hinged on that.
It all hinged on Ethan going back to the FBI, so he could fulfill his destiny.
He had to love, heal, THEN lose his way in order for the Raven to find him. If any of that didn’t happen, he wouldn’t make it back to them.
Timothy saw the path he would take, and it would lead to destruction.
If Ethan didn’t find the Raven, the next generation of his lineage wouldn’t be born, and the world would be at risk.
This had to come to fruition.
Ethan had to have children, and Callen had to have them too.
It was imperative.
Now, they had to wait to see how these cards played out before them.
Until then, he’d keep the family going on faith.
“He won’t be here long,” Timothy said, putting that positive out into the universe. “Just give him space to heal so he can regroup.”
Callen laughed sardonically.
“Old man, he’s IN MY HOUSE. How do I give him space when I can’t sit on my couch without sitting ON him? How do I avoid a sullen, moody Ethan as he’s copping a squat on my goddamn couch?”
Wyler agreed.
Timothy’s request was not realistic.
“I’m afraid to go near the place. The last time he saw me, he told me he wished that I was dead. He might kill me and laugh while doing it.”
They both looked over at him like he’d lost his goddamn mind.
“What?” Callen said. “Wyler, he’s not going to kill you. The worst thing he’ll do is pretend you’re already dead. You’re the safest one here. Hell will freeze over before he goes near your cabin. He’s coming here next once he wakes up. He’s going to eventually appear here!”
Timothy knew what he needed to do.
“When the man he’s with shows up, I need to speak to him. Then, I’ll work through this.”
Callen rolled his eyes.
Oh, he knew what Timothy was going to do.
Cause.
Chaos.
“One day, Dad, your meddling is going to make a shitmess we can’t clean up. Why can’t you leave him alone? Let him just live his life.”
It did Timothy’s heart good to see Callen defending his brother. That meant he was back on the path to healing, and now, he had to get Ethan back there too.
That would all be dependent on one thing. He needed a reason to go back.
If the man came, Ethan would be fine until that final day where he lost it all again and then found the Raven.
“Oh, well, I’m sorry, pristine men in this family. I won’t meddle with my alcoholic son who keeps pollinating all the women in this tribe, and my other son who humps all the white women like it’s an Olympic sport.”
Callen stared at him.
And then laughed.
There was no doubt where they got their antics from, and it wasn’t Wyler.
That was for damn sure.
“I mean, it should be. I could have a gold medal and my face on the front of a cereal box.”
Timothy pointed at him.
“Just leave the man alone and let me handle it. I’ve been in the smoke, and it’s all hinging on one last thing. If this fails, you will die a spinster like your father.”
“HEY!” Wyler stated. “Why am I catching strays? I didn’t say shit.”
Oh, he knew why.
From where he sat, Callen sighed.
“I hate this Native woo-woo shit. Dad. Stop. Meddling. In. Our. Lives.”
Timothy shrugged.
“Even if it gets you a hot woman who will give you babies and love you so much that if you get a sliver, she worries about you?”
He paused.
“How hot is hot?” he asked.
Timothy stared him in the eyes.
“Ridiculously hot, and out of your league. Oh, and did I mention that she doesn’t mind that you’re a pervert?”
Did someone like that really exist?
Well then….
Sign.
Him.
Up.
That sounded like a goddamn good time to him. What wouldn’t he do to have a hot woman who didn’t mind he had a drunken father and a slightly delusional old Native Shaman who couldn’t stop meddling?
Because the odds of finding that kind of tolerance wasn’t going to be in his favor.
“Well?” Timothy asked.
Callen made up his mind.
“Fine. I’ll leave Ethan alone, but someone should check on him. He was down bad like I’ve never seen him before.”
Wyler shook his head.
“Not it!” he said, quickly.
Timothy patted his son’s arm.
“Oh, don’t worry. You’re the LAST person I’d send into the lion’s den,” he stated. “He’d eviscerate you with a look, and you’d go off the wagon and start drinking again. You go hunting. I need some venison, and that’s a productive place for you to be while Ethan is back here.”
That was all he had to hear.
He.
Was.
Out.
The one thing about Wyler was if you gave him the opportunity to avoid his responsibility, and conflict, he was taking it.
His son was back and something was wrong?
Of course, he was running for it.
“On it,” he said. “See you in a few days.”
As he got ready to leave, Callen rolled his eyes.
“Well, that tracks. Trouble came back, and Wyler’s first one out the door. Why am I not shocked that’s his decision? Did I really expect him to want to help one of his kids?”
The older man said nothing.
Yes, his son’s words hurt, but he knew that he and Ethan were like fire and gasoline. All he had to do was breathe around the man, and there was an explosion.
Ethan hated him for what happened to his mother, and he didn’t blame him.
He hated himself.