He sighed. “I can’t.”
“That was the wrong way. Take the breath in.”
He glared at me. “Ha. Ha. Ha.”
“Look, it’s just a house visit. Nothing to get your panties in a bunch about.”
He leaned forward. “Says the guy with two healthy legs good for running away on.”
I chuckled. “Told you not to come. But, no. You just had to.”
“I’m not stringing you out to dry. And I sure as hell--”
I chuckled harder. “Aren’t incapable? Says the man complaining about just that?”
I felt laughter mounting as my brother kept glaring at me. And for some reason, the look on his face made this all funnier. I pinched my nose to try and stop it. I felt it building up the back of my spine.
This is not the time to laugh. Get yourself under control.
“Sounds like a party in here.”
My father’s voice pierced through the moment and the laughter was gone. Toast. Dead, just like the rest of my father’s hits. John stood from his chair, wobbling around on his cane. And as I pushed myself out of the plush leather cushions, I watched my father head straight for the drink cart and pour himself four entire fingers of brandy.
Not good.
I peeked over at John as he watched our father down the drink. I mean, the man just tipped it back, opened his throat, and practically let it slide down. I’d only seen my father drink like that once in his entire life. And the end result wasn’t good for anyone in his wake.
“You two care for a drink?”
I watched him fill his glass for the second time before he turned to us.
“Nah, I’m good. John?”
He shook his head. “I’m the one driving.”
Dad nodded. “Suit yourselves. Though this impromptu house call must be serious if you two are declining free top-shelf liquor.”
I didn’t like the way Dad was studying me.
“You good, Max?”
I paused. “Why wouldn't I be?”
He narrowed his eyes. “That yellow on your face?”
I shrugged. “Not important.”
He turned fully toward me. “Who used you as a punching bag?”
I clicked my tongue. “Was kind of hoping you could tell me that.”
In the corner of my eye, I saw my brother go stiff. He straightened out his back and turned his shoulder toward the door. Like he actually thought we’d be able to make a break for it if Dad decided to come after us. It was do or die with our father. Always had been. And if he set his sights on someone, no amount of running would get them any further away than Dad wanted them to be.
I knew John wasn’t expecting me to come out of the gate so strongly. But I wasn’t here to waste anyone’s time. There were consequences, in and of themselves, for people that wasted this man’s time. And I was suspicious of my father’s motives. Always had been. I wouldn’t put it past the old man to be pulling strings in the background for some reason. Working his way away from the Red Thorns. Hell, even trying to dismantle us.
There came a time in every organization my father utilized where it eventually got torn down. People got shifted around. New faces came in and old ones mysteriously disappeared. That was how my father kept his reputation fresh and his hands clean. And the Red Thorns were the longest-running organization that had some serious dirt on the man.
Maybe he was doing this because he was done with our help. Maybe he was ready to take us all out. Maybe he had a new crew he was using. That would explain why we hadn’t worked in months. Why most of us were scraping the bottom of our savings accounts just to fucking eat.