Trace

9 - He kept so much from me

Fallon

“Sorry, I’m visiting so late. I had to work. Not that I worked long; my boss said I could leave early because my mind wasn’t on the job.”

My brother is the first person I come to when I’m struggling a little with things. Even though he’s not really here anymore, I need him.

It breaks my heart to see him like this. He’s no longer the huge, strong, powerful man he once was. His face is pale and sunken in, and he’s lost all of that muscle he worked hard to get. I look Scott over as I often do. The tube that covers his mouth, keeping him alive, has become a part of him, and I struggle to remember a time when he didn’t have it, and I die a little more inside at the thought.

Why have I kept him alive like this for so long?

I was so selfish. I’ve kept Scott on this machine because I was scared to let him go and be alone. I am scared because once I let him go, I’ll be all alone in the world.

Almost.

I have no idea how to find our father for him to say goodbye to my brother and so that my brother can find some peace in the next life. I know, in my heart, that if I let my brother go now, he will never be at peace because his soul will forever worry about me.

Or is that just another excuse I’ve made up in my head because I’m scared to let go?

“I wish you were here to tell me what to do, Scott. I’m so lost and scared.” I lie my head on his hand and let the silent tears fall.

This is the hardest, most challenging decision I’ll ever have to make, and even though I know my brother is already gone, turning off his machine feels like I’m killing him all over again. For real, this time.

How will I live with myself afterward?

“You’re here late this evening.” My head shoots up. There’s a massive guy in the doorway, a tall, muscular, handsome biker.

I wipe my eyes quickly. He’s one of the bikers I saw at the meeting at work the other day. I can’t place his name, though, but he’s a Snakes Henchmen like Trace; that’s all I do know right now.

“What are you doing here? How did you know I would be here?!”

Shi.t, did he follow me?

Did he come to find me because I fucke.d up at work?

I shake my head. “Erm... Tammy said I could leave early.”

“I’m well aware of that, and I’m here because I followed you.”

I knew it!

How else would he have known where I was?

“Why?” I swallow hard as he walks into the room, coming closer to the bed.

“You’ve been lying to us about your name and age. Haven’t you, Fallon?”

Oh shi.t, they found out!

How?

No one has ever found out anything about me in the past. Scott said no one would.

So how the hell does this man know anything?

Damn it! They must have someone who can check fake IDs and realize they’re not real. Great, now I’m in trouble!

I stare at him wide-eyed as he continues. “Fallon Davidson, twenty-six years of age. Actual name: Fallon Cadwell, twenty-one years of age. But neither is your real surname, is it?”

Nevertheless, “My name has always been Caldwell. I don’t know why you would think it would be anything else. Yes, I lied about my name and age, but that was only because I needed to work to pay for...”

“Your brother’s needs. I know. However, everything has been covered. You no longer have to worry about that.”

“What?”

What the hell is he talking about?

“His father has taken care of everything.”

His father?

I’m so confused right now.

“How can that be? I’ve searched for our father since this happened. I’ve never found any trace of him. Nothing that would lead me to him.”

“They were in contact before this happened.”

“Yeah, Scott told me,” I say defensively while getting to my feet. I feel too small sitting while this giant stands.

“They were getting to know each other over a couple of months.”

What the fuc.k?

I look down at my brother.

He was getting to know our father over months?

Without telling me?

Why would he do that to me?

“He didn’t mention you ’til the last time they met.”

More betrayal.

Oh, my God, why would Scott do that to me?

“Scott left that day with a promise to bring you to our clubhouse. He never returned.”

Obviously! He never returned because he was too busy saving my sorry ass and getting himself shot.

“Your clubhouse?”

I am so confused!

My dad is a Snakes Henchmen?

What the fuc.k?

The guy nods but doesn’t elaborate. “We looked for Scott for months, never found anything.”

That might have something to do with Brick. He promised no one would ever find my brother, so they couldn’t finish the job. He made good on that promise. Scott hasn’t so much as had a visitor other than me in two years.

“Wasn’t ’til Red and I heard your name at the club that alarm bells started to go off. Nova checked you out, and here I am.”

Yeah, here he is.

“Why’d you come? My dad too scared to face me himself?”

“On the contrary. Scott’s father, on the other hand,” I narrow my eyes. Scott’s father? “Is cut the fuc.k up! Three fuckin’ years, his son has been like this. Three, and he had no damn clue or that he was even this close to home. Just seven fuckin’ miles away from the place he lives.”

I swallow hard.

How was I to know we were this close to our father?

“I tried really hard to find him.” I offer up weakly. I feel empty, unwanted, even. I don’t understand what’s going on.

“I’m not blaming you, sweetheart.”

“What’s his name? Our dad?” I haven’t taken my eyes off my brother. This hollow skeleton of a man lying in this bed, so still, so already gone. He’s nothing but a body in a bed. There’s nothing left of Scott but that.

I sense the biker step closer to the bed. I don’t want him closer. I want him to answer me, dammit!

“You and Scott don’t have the same father, Fallon. I had assumed Scott had told you that.”

This time, I do look at him, my eyes darting across his face. We don’t have the same father, and Scott knew, yet he didn’t once tell me in the months he was getting to know his father.

Did I even know him at all?

I let go of Scott’s hand and turn away from him. I am literally dead inside. I don’t know what to think or do. All I know is that I have to get out of here.

“I have to go.” I won’t look at the biker; he’s nothing to me but a messenger for Scott’s coward of a father. “Can you let his father know that I’m signing the paperwork to have his machine switched off? He should come say goodbye before it’s too late.”

I rush from the room with the biker calling my name, but I won’t stop. I won’t wait and listen. That man has just destroyed any feelings I had for my brother by proving what a lying bastard he was. He didn’t care about me; he cared about himself.

If Scott cared about me, he would have told me that he’d found his father, that he wasn’t my father also. I would have been sad, of course, but happy for Scott and the fact he’d found the one person he’d longed for since he was a little boy. Instead, my brother kept it from me like I was nobody to him.

God, I really am alone in the world. I was okay when I thought my dad was out there somewhere, just waiting for me to find him.

What the fuc.k am I supposed to do now?

I have only one link in the damn world that ties me to anybody, and that isn’t even mine anymore!

I need to get drunk. I need to forget for a while. If ever there was a time I needed a man like Trace, now would be it. However, I can’t have him; he’s part of that biker club, and I’ve had enough dealings with them for one day; thank you very much.

That’s why I run. I run and run until the throb in my legs, and the ache in my chest stop me from running anymore. I lean back against the massive tree behind me, breathing hard and fast. So much fuckin.g anger inside of me that I scream my lungs out in frustration while turning and both kicking and punching that damn tree with all that I’ve got.

I punch it like it’s my damn brother! I keep going until there’s nothing left inside me, and my knuckles are torn to pieces from the bark. I’m tired, and I have no fight left in me. So, I turn and slide down the tree, my ass hitting the grass below with a thud.

I don’t know who I am now, where I go from here, what I’m supposed to do now.

It must be hours that I sit here because the sun is starting to rise. I need to get home and let Duke out. I need to soak my hands and wrap them up. I don’t think I need stitches, and I don’t think I’ve broken a knuckle, or at least, I hope I haven’t.