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“He’ll be as dirty as we need him to be,” I say. “It’s like conscription with my family. We draft people in as needed. Now that he’s privy to some things where you’re concerned, he’s in. Whether he wants it or not.”
She looks crestfallen.
My phone chimes, so I check and see a rare text message from my father. Or maybe from his assistant.
Michael Steele: Congratulations, Derek.
I scoff with amusement and write back
Thanks, Dad. See you Saturday at the party.
I don’t generally address him. He rarely addresses me. But we had a pretty poignant conversation at the curb at his place yesterday where, in the company of my remaining brothers, he informed me of his willingness to erase further problems in his family.
“I always figured there’s nothing as painful as losing one of your children. I faced that when my third born son was taken as a small boy and I didn’t think I could get him back.”
“As if you tried,” I muttered.
He went on as if I hadn’t spoken, though my three brothers paid attention and looked at me with an expression that I fucking loathed.
“But I’ve come to realize it’s even more painful to have one of your children continually and willfully make your life and your other children’s lives difficult as my second-born tarnished the family name with his idiocy, hot-headedness, his inferiority complex, along with his greed and sloppiness. The stress he caused your mother…” He let that hang with a severe expression on his face.
My father then did something he hasn’t done since I was a child. Laid a hand on my shoulder affectionately.
“Not too long ago, I gave Jonah my blessing to work with authorities to put Thaddeus away for a while. To give us all a break. But since the headache of my second-born went away permanently instead and has since made all our lives much better I now realize that regardless of familial ties, the family garden needs to be kept free of weeds. Weeds strangle the health of the rest of the garden. I will no longer hesitate to weed the Steele garden, my sons. You all know your role in this family. You all know the rules. Now you all also know that my tolerance for bullshit from my children is nil. And I’m not talking about making sure people are tried for the crimes they’ve committed.”
My father then squeezed my shoulder poignantly before letting go, stepping back, and walking back to his house.
The looks on Asher’s, Jonah’s, and Elijah’s faces showed emotion at the display of conditional love from the man who made us.
It didn’t faze me. Not a bit. Ever since I was a child and knew he wasn’t going to pay my kidnapper the ransom he could easily afford, I’ve always known I’m expendable to my father.
The hotel I chose is a five-minute drive from the courthouse and another short drive in the morning to the airport. Lunch hour traffic is still a little heavy but it’s not long until we’re here.
I scoop her up into my arms to carry her over the threshold of our hotel suite, startling her.
Once we’re on the other side of the door, I put the do-not-disturb sign on the knob, close, and lock it.
There’s champagne chilling in a bucket beside a dish of strawberries and the bed is turned down.
I look at my bride, who is staring at the bed.
“Well...” I start and her eyes dart to me, “Dinner is being delivered at seven so, we’ve got a little under six hours to consummate our marriage.”
“Are they safe?” she asks quietly, hands shaking.
I sit, keeping her on my lap and grab both hands, pressing my lips to the top of one, then the other. “They’re fine.”
“I… I need to talk to them.”
“You can speak with Alannah. I’ve already told you, Hallman no longer exists for you.” I reach into the inside pocket of my tuxedo and pass Chloe her phone. “Make it fast, baby. I’m very ready to consummate our marriage.” I kiss her on the jaw. She rises from my lap and goes to the window, giving me her back.
I reach for the champagne bucket as she shakily touches her screen before putting her phone to her ear.
“Lan?” she whispers and then starts to weep, entire body shuddering out relief. “You’re okay? Yeah? I’m so, so sorry.”
She holds the phone, her shoulders shaking with her silent crying for a moment before she continues to speak. “I can’t help it. I feel responsible. You’re sure you’re okay? For sure? Yep. Yeah, it’s done. Le Meridien, but don’t do anything. Don’t! Okay… He said Saturday. Yeah. No, no prenup… Are you still there? No, he doesn’t believe in divorce. Okay, yeah. Okay. Love you. I will.” She holds the phone a minute. “I know. Bye.”
She ends the call and drops her arms before putting her forehead to the window.
