Five Brothers
: Chapter 34

I leave the room, pulling the door closed hard. I dig the heels of my palms into my eyes, trying to push back the tears. God, I fucking love you.

She’s perfect.

And I know, without a doubt, I shouldn’t keep her. She knows nothing of all the possibilities that are out there for her. She won’t still love me in five years. Was I serious? Do I want a kid with her?

I don’t want her having anyone else’s.

Fuck it. This could be it.

This is it.

I can’t stop. I’m not even going to try, and if I end myself someday, it won’t be because of my shit headspace. It’ll be in the wake of ruining her life, because no matter everything that will go wrong, the time I have with her will be worth it.

I button up my shirt, tuck it in, and fasten my tie, leaving the boat.

Clay sits on the hood of my truck, my sister leaning back between her thighs.

I toss my keys to Army.

Trace, Dallas, and I head for the doors.

“Take Krisjen home,” I tell Liv. “Our house.”

“What are you guys doing?”

I jerk my chin at Army. “Let’s go.”

He climbs in the driver’s side.

“Macon.” Liv follows me. “What are you doing?”

I yank open the passenger-side door. “Get home.”

She watches us, Clay jumping off the car and standing next to her as we all climb in and Army hits the gas, backing up.

Liv knows enough, and that includes knowing better than to press harder for answers. She’s got a lot to lose. I don’t want her involved.

I take one last look at the boat, picturing Krisjen at home when I get there, but she won’t be in bed because she doesn’t fucking listen. I smile a little. I’ll fight with her all night if she wants. As long as she doesn’t leave.

We take off, and I turn down the music, catching Trace in the rearview mirror. He wears a knit cap, a plaid collared shirt peeking out the top of his zipped-up leather jacket. I’ve never seen him in a collared shirt.

His face is turned out the window.

“You don’t have to come,” I tell him.

He nods, still looking outside. “I know.”

Like Krisjen and Liv, I never wanted to break the illusion that we were good people.

Army glances at me and then back to the road. “Are you sure about this?” he asks. “The more we do this, the easier it becomes. That’s a slippery slope.”

I comb my fingers through my hair and straighten my tie. “It should’ve been done last spring,” I state. “He’s a threat to their safety.”

“And he can’t be stopped,” Dallas chimes in behind me. “Not in one piece anyway.”

Dallas and Iron are one side of the same coin. There’s a detachment inside of them. If they make up their mind it needs to be done, then there is no choice.

Army and Trace are the other side of that coin. Loyal, but their conscience takes up a lot of room inside them.

Liv is a mixture of both. Things need to be done, and she accepts that she’ll feel like shit about it sometimes.

I’m not sure which one I am yet. I always felt like shit hurting someone, but I felt the same watching TV.

“I’ll do it,” Dallas announces.

“I’ll do it,” I say.

I don’t want his hands dirty any more than necessary.

I look over at Army. “You have Dex. You don’t need to be here.” Last time, he didn’t have a child to worry about. I would understand if he wanted to back out.

He focuses on the road. “We all have things to lose.”

I watch him out of the corner of my eye as we cross the tracks, rain speckling the windshield, and his silence fills the car in a way that Dallas and Trace probably don’t even notice.

We haven’t talked much the past week. I don’t think I even knew where to start any better than he did.

He knew where my head was at last week.

That morning I came back from Krisjen’s.

He watched me walk up the stairs, and he knew.

I was glad when he left, but now it’s all I think about.

He left.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

Army darts his eyes to me, and I open the glove compartment, pulling out a pair of black leather gloves.

“For everything,” I tell him, pulling them on. “It’s all yours as much as mine. You can take anything you want.”

He steals glances at me, trying to watch the road.

I swallow through the needles in my throat. “Just not her, okay?”

He’s quiet. He doesn’t say anything.

He’s mad.

But then he says, “I want my own room.”

I smile to myself.

Yeah, I guess it’s ridiculous he shares a room with Dex.

“You get first dibs,” I assure him.

The new addition will be ready before the summer. Mars is sharing a room with his little sister right now, but he’ll also need his own space. As will Iron when he comes home. That leaves two rooms left.

“It’s a bad time of year,” Trace tells us. “Water levels will be low, and the gators—”

“He won’t be found,” I say.

I know what he’s worried about, but we’ve done this once before. Not dozens of times like the rumors say. Once.

Nothing makes it out of the swamp.

We coast back into the Bay, around the village center, and deep into the dark green brush. Willows and oaks spill onto water shimmering in the faint moonlight, and rain spatters the dark surface. A wake is kicked up as an animal moves underneath the water.

We pull alongside the road, park, and exit the vehicle, walking to the wooden bridge in the black forest.

Milo Price sits on his knees in the middle, Santos gripping the back of his collar.

I stop in front of them, my brothers behind me. “Where was he?” I ask Santos.

“The motel.”

I look down at the piece of shit who tried to assault my sister, and who made Krisjen bleed. The motel isn’t a brothel, but he acts like it is.

It’s a good place to disappear for a few hours, though. Guys like him can afford fancy hotel rooms, but the sleaze of a seedy, well-used mattress is half the turn-on for them.

I gaze at the scar running down the side of his face. My sister’s girlfriend did that, but that was never the end of it. He should’ve known we’d come for him eventually. We don’t trust St. Carmen police to protect anyone but St. Carmen assholes.

Milo smiles at me. “You had to wait for me to come over here.”

I nod. “Traffic cams and such.”

There are cameras everywhere. If they track his last location, they can track him to us, but when he comes to the Bay, traffic cams lose sight of him long before he crosses the tracks. From there he could’ve gone anywhere. There’s no proof that he came here.

“Well, let’s get it over with,” he spits out. “It’ll take more than five of you to give me a beating I can’t take.”

“I’m not going to hit you.”

His smile falters, but still … he doesn’t seem afraid.

Santos hands me a hunting knife, heat coursing down my arms as I take it. I squeeze my fist around the hilt.

“Can I ask you something?” I peer down at him. “Why do you pay for it? Sex, I mean.”

It isn’t always Bay women he’s fucking, but whoever it is, he’s coming to the motel and he’s paying them.

“It doesn’t look like you’ve had any trouble getting tail for free,” I continue. “Is it because it makes it a job for them? To please you?”

I never asked the women who paid me.

But he shakes his head. “No,” he tells me. “When I pay them, they’re animals.” He pauses. “Farm animals.”

My fingers ache around the hilt.

He shrugs. “When I’m done eating, I just shove the sloppy, sticky dish under the shower for their next fuck.”

My mouth goes dry.

I grab his collar, yanking him from Santos. “Thank you for your honesty.”

I rear the blade back, my eyes on his throat, but then she’s there, slipping between him and me. Footfalls race over the bridge behind me, and I can only assume it’s my sister and Clay.

Krisjen grips my shirt at my stomach, her eyes looking up at me and pleading.

“Get out of my way,” I growl. “I won’t make the same mistake as my father.”

If he had put my mom first, she wouldn’t have spent twenty years dying from the inside out. I’m not giving Milo Price a chance to succeed the next time he comes for my sister or Krisjen. Family comes first.

I glare at Price, but I hear the tears in Krisjen’s voice. “The only mistake would be doing something that risks you being taken from me.”

No one will take me from her.

“Look at me,” she begs, and I see Liv out of the corner of my eye. “Look at me.”

I meet Krisjen’s blue eyes.

“I love you,” she whispers. “You’re the only thing I’ve ever been sure about. I love you so much. He doesn’t have anything you have,” she whispers. “Look at what you have.”

Her gaze flits around me, and I don’t have to look to know my family is everywhere. My brothers, my sister, my friends—safe and alive.

“We come first,” she commands, and then leans in, whispering. “And his day will come.”

“Krisjen and I can fight our own battles,” Liv adds.

My hand shakes with the knife. This has to happen. He has to go.

“Don’t leave me,” she begs. “You’re not going to want to look at me”—she presses her body into mine—“through a piece of glass.”

An image of me talking to her in jail and not being able to touch her flashes in my mind. An image of her sleeping without me.

That’s not what a man does.

I grind my teeth together. She’s right. Making sure that I’m always at her side comes first.

I lower the blade and release Milo. Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her into me and press my mouth to hers, gripping the back of her scalp and holding her so tight, she groans.

God, I love her. I bury my face in her hair. I love her so much.

“You’re smart,” she murmurs in my ear. “You’ll figure out how to get rid of him. Bide your time.”

Damn right. I hold her to me, pressing my lips to her forehead.

“Enjoy your whore,” Milo bites out. “You dirty piece of Swamp shit.”

Balling my fists, I pull back from Krisjen, holding her eyes.

And she sees it. “Macon …”

“I won’t kill him.” I kiss her again and then push her behind me, dropping the knife and grabbing Price by the collar, hammering my fist down onto his face.

“Oh, Jesus,” my sister gripes.

Milo falls to the floor of the bridge, and I raise him up again, hitting him so hard, a slice of pain hits my knuckles like I’ve been stabbed.

I shove him to Santos. “Get him in the truck.”

He throws him over his shoulder and carries him off the bridge. We all follow.

“What are you doing?” Krisjen asks.

“Just taking him home.”

We climb into the cab of the vehicle, Santos and Milo in the bed with Dallas and Trace and the women in the back seat.

Army drives as rain starts to fall, but we’re in St. Carmen’s town center before it starts to pour. We cruise past restaurants, the dress shop where Liv worked, and the Harbor Point Fishing Boat. We coast through the roundabout.

People eat under awnings on the sidewalk and watch us pass, and I’m guessing that it’s my truck, and not that we’re speeding, that catches their attention. Coasting into a parking space, Army ignores the meter, and we both hop out, heading to the tailgate. Dropping it, I take Milo from Santos and don’t even bother standing him up. Dragging him as he kicks and tries to get his feet under him, I haul him over to the police station, seeing Chavez slowly descend one step at a time down the station stairs.

I drop Milo at the foot of the steps. “Tell your superiors to keep their trash out of the Bay,” I tell the officer.

Milo spits blood, coughing as he tries to stand up. “Arrest him,” he sputters.

“Shut up,” Chavez warns him.

Milo pushes himself to his feet. “Arrest them!”

I turn, finding Krisjen, but then her eyes go wide.

“Macon!”

I look behind me, seeing Milo come with his fist cocked. He hits me to the ground, my cheekbone slamming against the pavement. I wince, the cut in my skin spreading like a fire over my face. I try to push myself up, shaking my head clear, but I see something out of the corner of my eyes and look just in time to catch his leg before he kicks me.

I grab him, yank him, and push myself up, slamming him in the jaw.

He falls to the ground, and I climb to my feet, a crowd growing around us. Chavez remains on the stairs.

I circle Milo, waiting for him to try again.

He rises, zones in on me, and then … He shoots off, rushing me. Slamming into me, he pushes us to the pavement, and I feel the pebbles in the street dig into my leg. My elbows scrape against the road.

We roll, I straddle him, my blood spilling onto my clothes from the cut in my face. I punch once.

And then again. His eyes roll into the back of his head, and I stand up, take him by the collar, and drag him back to the steps.

Chavez looks down at the kid, not moving to help him.

I take a step back, and another. And another.

Milo is stupid, but he’s a fighter. It’s always fun with someone who doesn’t know when to quit. The next time will be especially enjoyable, because he’ll be older. As will his friend Callum Ames. Taking them down will be an actual challenge. Thank God.

I lean against the tailgate, looking at the diners as the cops spill out of the station, and Bay people who work in their restaurants stand paused with their trays.

Liv holds Clay’s hand, and I pull Krisjen back into my body, hanging an arm over her shoulder.

“I love you so goddamn much,” I whisper.

She leans her head back against my chest. “I suspected.”

And I smile, kissing her hair.

The next morning, we still haven’t slept.

We stayed up all night, talking about our favorite holidays, our worst memories, if we believed in God, my favorite body part of hers, and why the electric bill has more than doubled since she started staying here the past couple of months. We agreed. It’s her long hot showers.

And we spent a lot of time not talking. Hours not talking. We need to leave this bed, though. If only because I want to look forward to her tonight.

I hold her to me, grazing my fingers up and down her back. “We should wait to have kids,” I say. “Okay?”

I don’t want to talk about this now, but she may take my previous statements as an invitation to stop birth control.

“Do you want them?” I ask her.

She lifts her eyes to me, nodding. “You?”

“I think so.” I’m almost thirty-two. I don’t want to be an old father, but I don’t want to be a bad one, either. “I should … I need some time.”

I feel good today. I feel better a lot lately, but it might not last. I can’t make her any guarantees. I’m not ready for kids. Not yet.

She touches my face. “I want you to talk to someone.”

I shift underneath her. I really don’t want to do that.

“I’d be destroyed if anything happened to you,” she whispers. “You need someone who knows what they’re doing. Will you try?”

I swallow hard. I’ll do anything she wants me to. Not that I’d be okay losing anyone in my life, but I can’t lose her. I want us happy.

Every day doesn’t have to be easy, but I want her to know every day that I love her.

“Okay,” I reply.

She smiles, and I feel her body relax in my arms.

“I’ll be a handful, you know,” I warn her.

And I don’t even mean the moods.

She laughs. “I’ve got two hands.”

She slides on top of me, kissing my lips. “I know who you are,” she says. “And I want every minute of it.”

I grip her ass, rubbing her over my groin. “You sure?”

“Oh, baby, I won’t be a picnic, either.” She kisses me deep, slipping her tongue in again and again. “But you like pains in the ass.”

I break out in a smile. They seem to be my lot in life.

Just then, we hear a bellow outside the door. “Ah!” someone shouts.

Was that Mars?

There’s pounding on the stairs, and then I hear Dallas. “Get these clothes out of the dryer!”

We hold each other, listening.

“Macon!” Trace calls out. “We can’t live like this. We’re going to need another bathroom. Like, yesterday!”

Yeah, we need the addition to the house finished, like, yesterday. We’re at full capacity.

I bury my face in Krisjen’s neck, rethinking my desire to leave the bedroom at all. Ever again.

But she pops up, straddling me. “Oh, can we get a Christmas tree today?”

I shake my head. “I’m not stepping foot in that shithole of a town right now.”

She flashes me a bold smile along with her breasts. “Good things do come from that shithole.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “You know you like to slum.”

I arch up, kissing her chest, her neck. “My little princess from the wrong side of the tracks …”

She circles my neck with her arms, both of us stirring again.

But just when I think I’ve successfully distracted her, she pulls back and looks down at me. “Tonight,” she tells me. “We’ll take everyone out for food, pick out a tree, put the kids to bed, and then we’ll break into Mariette’s for dessert and have sex on one of the tables.”

I chuckle. Fine. “With the skates?” I ask, hopeful.

She smiles wide, but then stops me as I start to kiss her neck again and glances over her shoulder to where they lie on my bedroom floor. “Hey, how did they get in your bedroom, by the way?”

I crash back on the bed, squeezing my eyes shut. “Ah, shit.” Fuck. I totally forgot about that.

“Macon?”

“I can explain,” I rub my eyes. “Just give me a sec …”

But she grabs my throat, her eyes zoning in like bullets. “Explain … what?”

“Nothing happened.”

Her scowl deepens. “What didn’t happen?”

I hold up my hands in surrender, loving everything about having her in my bed with me, and trying to keep the laughter at bay.

She’ll be a handful, indeed.

And I’m here for all of it.