Page 152 of Falling for the Enemy

“I know you’re disappoint⁠—”

“Disappointed.” He scoffed. “You’re a fucking Hawthorne!”

“So?”

His brain was going to pop. “Logan, this couldn’t come at a worse fucking time.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while.”

“Then why didn’t you?” he barked.

“Because I knew you’d react like this.”

“How else am I supposed to fucking act?” he shouted. “You’re a fucking Hawthorne for Christ’s sake! You have an obligation to the company⁠—”

“Why? Because Dad said so? He’s dead, Soren. Fucking dead! And I’m tired of living my life like he’s still here.”

“I know he’s dead. Unlike you and Greyson, I’ve been showing up every day to fill his fucking shoes.”

“You wanted to take his place. The fishery has always meant more to you and Greyson. I never loved it the way you two did.”

“Come on⁠—”

“I’m serious. I used to hate when Dad would drag us there. And now, I don’t want to be tied to something I spent my whole life hating.”

Soren staggered back as if he’d hit him. “You hated it?”

“Yes.” Logan shook his head and scowled. “Don’t you see, Greyson loved the boats, and you loved the thrill of running something massive. There was never anything left for me.”

“It’s a fucking fleet of ships, Logan. We have corporate offices all over the country. Have your pick of whatever you want!”

“I don’t want any of it.” He shook his head. “For once, can you please listen to me?”

“I am listening. I just don’t understand how you could be so goddamn selfish!”

Logan’s gaze dropped with his voice. “I should have figured you wouldn’t understand.”

“What’s to understand? The fishery is our family’s legacy. It pays for the mansion you live in. It puts gas in your car so you can disappear on those weekend trips you love to take. It pays for your hotels.” He laughed coldly when he saw his brother’s shock. “Don’t look so surprised. I’m the one who pays the credit card bills, remember?”

“I’m not asking for a handout. If you need to cut me off⁠—”

“Stop. Like that’s even a possibility.”

Something flashed in his brother’s gaze, something real. Something determined and scared. “I’m just saying, I need to do this for me right now, so whatever you need to do… If I need to find another way to support myself⁠—”

“For fuck sake, this is ridiculous,” he said as calmly as possible, even as his pulse pounded in his temples. “It’s more than a business or a seat on the board. It’s your name. Doesn’t that bring you any pride?”

He, again, dropped his gaze and laughed without humor. “Pride…” he muttered. “What does that even mean?”

Soren braced his hands on the island and blew out a long breath. “Pride means knowing you’re good at something and not apologizing for it. It’s going after what you want and refusing to let anyone take it from you.” His voice turned rough when he thought about Jocelyn. “It’s showing up when people need you, even when it costs you on a personal level. It’s being better… than the men who came before us. Better than Dad.”

“I can’t spend my whole life living in his shadow. I can’t be something I’m not for other people’s sake.”

“Then do it for yourself, Logan. Be something you can be proud of.”

“I’m trying.” When his brother’s voice cracked, he realized this went a lot deeper than the company.

Soren’s current misery came from not fully realizing what others needed from him, and he made a promise to do better, not just for Jocelyn, but for everyone he loved. And he loved his little brother very much.