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I shook my head. My brothers were always thorough. Plus, we knew each other better than we wanted to let on.
“Zane was a drug dealer and attacked my new employee. That wasn’t acceptable.”
He shook his head. “You’re playing with fire. Both those kids have strong connections with this community; their fathers are both way too important men in this fucking town. The police will stop at nothing. I’m warning you to watch your back.”
“I always do. However, I was careful as I’ve always been.”
“You do know Zane is the only son of man responsible for building the Griffen Industries. You know, Kaplan Griffen who owns several multimillion-dollar corporations, many of which contribute to the police fund? You know how to pick them since the guy is also friends with the Roxford family.”
“I’m not a fool, my brother. Besides, in this town there are two types of people in the upper echelon of society. Those who cluster together, pretending to be the good guys while using their power and influence to keep the people beneath them poor. They preen and drink cognac, giving of themselves only when they believe it to benefit their bank accounts. Then there are those of us who embrace the dark side, taking what we want but usually attempting to keep innocent lives intact. In my mind, those who think their shit doesn’t stink need to be jerked off their holier than thou platform.”
His eyes opened wide. “Shit. You really are this Angel of Death.”
“A fancy title likely coined by that stupid reporter we’re going to have fun with.” He seemed shocked at my words and my callous behavior.
“Wow. I thought you’d escaped the ugliness of our past, at least to some degree.”
“It’s not possible, Styx, and you know it. Which is why I think if you were offered another opportunity to go on a hunt, you’d do it in a heartbeat.”
His jaw was suddenly clenched and he nursed his drink for a few seconds.
“Like father, like sons,” I added.
As he rubbed his forehead, I could tell we were both right about our assumptions regarding the other.
“Look, I saw the news report and although the short newscast referred to a drug deal gone bad, I have a feeling you purposely made it look that way. Didn’t you?”
I chuckled and took another sip, never blinking.
“All three of us have done some things that are heinous to most people, some for business and some against true enemies who deserved our stringent reaction, but these murders are a personal vendetta.” His words were frank, but they needed to be.
“In what way?”
“You’re trying to save our mother, something none of us could have done. Yes? Don’t deny it, Easton. You were closest to her and took her disappearance the hardest.”
“Disappearance? You mean her murder. Don’t you? Just say what it really was for once in your goddamn life. Our mother was murdered by our father.”
“Fine. Yes, brother. Our godforsaken worthless piece of shit dad decided to take his lunacy out on the one person who least deserved it. However, you’re living in the past, the only one.”
“Bullshit!”
“Don’t bullshit me. And we shouldn’t argue but I know you better than you think I do. This grasp at trying to be normal is crumbling around you.”
I gritted my teeth. What neither he nor Creed knew was that I’d had an opportunity to save her, or at least so I remembered. It had eaten at me for far too long. “Yeah, well, if that’s what you want to think.”
He did something out of character for him. He placed his hand on my shoulder, giving a brotherly squeeze. I slowly lowered my head, trying to keep from reacting. He knew how much I hated being touched.
Huffing, he pulled his hand away, moving toward the window. “I don’t like what’s happening to you, Easton. If you aren’t careful, you’re going to lose yourself to the same darkness that almost consumed both Creed and me.”
“Don’t worry, brother. It’s already happened.”
“Then you need to do something to control it.”
Another laugh escaped my lips. “I already have.”
“I’m not talking about writing a book about a fucking serial killer, for God’s sake. That’s crazy. It’s like you want to evoke the ugliness from the past, something you told me yourself you wanted to do everything in your power to avoid. Why in God’s name would you want to write a brutal piece that is exactly like our real life?” He turned around, his voice deeper and more controlling than before. He’d always tried to fashion himself as a surrogate father when he’d been able, doing his best to protect his two younger brothers against the evils of the world.
It hadn’t worked. The boogeyman had gotten to us anyway. His guilt had been in not being able to do so while mine centered around my mother, avenging her death. Creed? He was a mixed bag but certainly the brother most interested in violence and bloodshed.
