Chapter 3
THEO
As soon as I hit send, I knew I was about to ruin Alex’s evening. If not ruin, then definitely complicate.
Years ago, I’d learned that the longer an explanation got, the more likely Alex was to overanalyze it, so I’d kept my email short and sweet.
Hey,
Sooooo, my bike’s dead. I got stranded in Arizona and the repairs are gonna take a while, so I’m not gonna make it back by the end of September as planned. Honestly not sure when I’m heading home at this point. Don’t wait up.
— Theo
My brother treated family structure like it was constitutional law, and he wasn’t going to like the delay, but it was what it was. Besides, it gave him more time to line up that parade of eligible bachelorettes, so maybe he’d appreciate me for a change.
An hour later, however, I was sitting on top of a rusty washing machine in the motel laundry room, listening to my clothes tumble around, when my phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket, sighing when I saw Jesse’s name on my screen.
“I’m assuming you heard about my unintended vacation in Arizona?” I said by way of greeting. “It’s either that, or you’ve just got really interesting timing.”
“Nah. I heard. You nearly gave Alex a brain aneurysm.”
I snorted. “Was it really that bad?”
“It was worse. You shocked him into silence.”
“Silence, huh? That’s always healthy when it’s coming from him.”
Jesse laughed. “Yeah, Silent Alex. Imagine that, but when he finally managed to speak again, he asked Zach if they’d heard from you recently. I think he’s worried you might’ve joined a militia.”
I grinned and then inhaled a deep breath, letting my head drop back against the wall behind me. The laundry room smelled vaguely damp, like wet concrete and detergent, but there was a faint undertone of cigarette smoke to the air, presumably still left over from back in the nineties.
One fluorescent light overhead buzzed every few seconds. The dryer across from me made a worrying grinding noise. In a weird way, it was cozy, the perfect place to gently break it to my brother that our other brother was just going to have to wait until I was good and ready.
“He’s overreacting,” I said into the phone. “I haven’t joined a militia. I hate rules.”
“You told him not to wait up.”
“I’m currently stranded in the desert. He shouldn’t wait up. I was just being considerate.”
“You’re at a motel with Wi-Fi, Theo. It’s not like you’re stuck in the middle of the Sahara with no way out.”
“I might as well be,” I mumbled. “You haven’t seen this place, but that’s not the point.”
“Yeah, the point is that we could just come get you.”
“No,” I said quickly, then cleared my throat and tried not to sound as panicked as I was by his suggestion. “This isn’t a big deal, Jess. I just took a little detour and I have to wait until the bike is fixed before I can come back.”
It doesn’t hurt that it’s getting fixed by hands-down the hottest girl I’ve ever laid eyes on, but I probably shouldn’t tell him that.
When he laughed, my defenses lowered a little in response. The problem with it being Jesse at the other end of the line rather than one of the others was that he was hard to bullshit.
He’d disappeared on us for years, traveling and finally deciding to base himself in Miami instead of going back home to Chicago. If any of my siblings would understand this urge I had to stay away for just a little while longer, it was him.
“Alex is under the impression that you’re never coming back,” he said. “That is a big deal.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, genuinely curious. “Would it really be so bad if I didn’t come home?”
The sky outside had gone dark enough that I saw my own reflection in the windows instead of the parking lot beyond, and the truth was that I no longer looked like the Theo they knew.
In fact, I might even look a little feral these days, with the longer hair, the faint scruff on my jaw, and the slight sunburn on my nose.
The guy I was staring at in that reflection had no business in the polished halls of W&S. He was a biker. A drifter. A man who followed his heart wherever it led and didn’t get tripped up by things like arranged marriages or family tradition.
Frankly, I was having the time of my life, and while I missed my family, especially my nieces and nephews, it had been good operating on my own without my family name walking into every room ahead of me.
“Do you actually know what you’re doing?” Jesse asked, dragging my attention back to him.
“Usually?” I scoffed. “No.”
He sighed. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“I don’t.”
“Fine. I’ll be straight with you. Do you know what it takes to step outside of the Westwood family circle?”
Obviously, I didn’t.
I’d never done this before, but he had. For most of his adult life, he’d been on a journey of his own and he’d only come back into the family fold a couple years ago.
“Is it worth it?” I asked instead of responding to his question, because we both knew that I didn’t actually know what it took. “That’s all I need to know.”
“There are rules, Theo,” Jesse said. “You and I might not always agree with them, but Alex is a stickler. He believes in our traditions like they’re sacred texts, and that includes the rules about what happens when someone breaks away from the family.”
“But you still did it.”
“Yeah, and then I came back,” he said emphatically. “I also knew going into it that I’d lose certain financial privileges and I planned for it. Did you?”
I kept quiet, and that seemed to answer the question for him. “Yeah, I thought so. Look, I love Alex. You know that.”
“I love him too.”
“Yep, but no matter how much he loves us back, he’s not going to make an exception about this,” Jesse said firmly. “Even Will forfeited those privileges when he quit his job and moved to England to be with Eliza.”
“He did?” I hadn’t known that. “I’m sure he’s fine, though.”
“Of course, he is.” Jesse snorted. “Unlike you, Will has already received his marriage inheritance, which is enough by itself to power a small country for several millennia, but aside from that, he was also older than you are right now when he did it and he’d built up an insane portfolio for himself. ”
“Hey, I’m independently wealthy too,” I argued lightly. “I don’t know that I’d refer to my portfolio as insane, but I’ve been smart.”
“I’m sure you have,” he said. “We were practically born knowing to make good investments once we gain access to our trust funds, but is your money enough to see you through the rest of your life without Westwood money? That’s the question.”
I sighed.
Over the years, I really had made some good investments. I wasn’t financially irresponsible and Jesse wasn’t wrong about the way we’d been raised. Turning a lot of money into even more money was basically written in our genetic code, but I wasn’t Will, or Alex, or frankly any of the others.
Zach, for example, had more money than God at this point and it wasn’t because of his trust fund.
It was about what he’d done with it. While I wasn’t broke, I’d spent most of my twenties doing exactly what I wanted, taking trips around the world after booking last-minute flights to any destination that looked appealing.
I’d visited towns with names I still couldn’t pronounce properly and countries I’d never even heard of until I’d booked a flight to the capital city. Like North Macedonia and Moldova.
Once, I’d spent a month surfing badly in Portugal followed by nine weeks backpacking around Thailand. I’d chased experiences and stories, anything that made me feel alive enough to survive inside the polished glass mausoleum that was the W&S office tower.
Some people bought sports cars during an existential crisis, but not me. I bought plane tickets, and once that hadn’t been possible because I’d become a corporate drone, I’d started buying a whole lot of other stuff to make me happy.
Through it all, I’d barely made a dent in my accounts, but Jesse had a point.
“Alex will cut you off, Theo,” he said, sighing softly at the other end of the line. “Are you prepared for that?”
“I should be okay,” I said. “Maybe.”
“Just come home before November,” he said. “See how you feel by the time you get here. Alex will probably give you until then to decide what you’re doing.”
What he meant was to decide if I was staying in the family or if Alex would have to cut me off from its coffers. I got the message, though.
“Yeah, okay. That’s surprisingly reasonable advice, coming from you.”
“I’m trying something new,” he said lightly. “It’s called emotional maturity. You should try it sometime.”
I groaned. “Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.”
“You already are, little brother.” He paused for a beat. “Just think about what I said, okay? It’s not easy being out on your own. Even if you take the money out of the equation completely, it’s still tough. Take it from me.”
I nodded. “I’ll give it some thought.”
Jesse hung up, but as I threw my clothes in the dryer, I did what I’d said I would and thought about his advice. Most people would probably think that Alex would cut me off as a punishment, but it wasn’t that.
The system existed because generations of Westwoods before us had built it and it’d worked damn well so far. Alex carried that responsibility now. To him, structure was love and the rules were protection, of our money and our way of life.
If I wanted to walk away, he’d let me, but only once I understood the true cost of that independence. I shook my head at myself. My family—and that included Jesse—was overreacting.
I wasn’t talking about leaving the family.
At least, not yet. This was just a fucking road trip while I tried to come to terms with the fact that Alex expected me to get married soon.
It was about choosing my own path, even if just for now, and processing what it would mean if I fell in line like my brothers had.
This was the first time I felt truly independent and I intended to savor that for as long as I could. I felt capable and strong, and I wanted to keep chasing that feeling. That was all.
Finally deciding that I needed some fresh air to clear my head, I left the laundry room and strode out into the narrow parking lot between it and the motel’s front office.
Frieda, the owner, sat under the awning in front of it, smoking a cigarette and looking out at the quiet night like she was expecting something gossip-worthy to happen.
I’d met her at two in the morning the night after the trucker had dropped me off, alive and non-murdered. She was small but tough as nails, either ninety years old or immortal. It was genuinely hard to tell.
As I approached her now, she squinted at me through the cigarette smoke, apparently still skeptical of me despite the fact that I’d thought we’d bonded over my room rental. I waved at her, smiling as I stepped onto the tiny porch.
“Hey, Frieda,” I said cheerfully. “How are you doing this fine evening?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Depends on what you want.”
Well, at least she’s direct. I’ve got to give her that. “I’d like to know if my room is available for the next two months.”
“That’ll cost you.”
“Yeah, I’m aware. I assumed capitalism would be involved, but that won’t be a problem.”
She took another drag from her cigarette, eyeing me suspiciously before she blew out the smoke. “Are you any good with tools? If you are, I could cut you a deal.”
I rocked my head from side to side, considering it. If Alex was serious about cutting me off, maybe I actually did need a job. It also couldn’t hurt to get in good with the women I’d be staying with for the foreseeable future.
“I know my way around a toolbox,” I said finally. “What kind of deal are we talking about?”