He turned into a doorway, pushing open a large wooden door with a grunt. I used to worry he would die before I could make the name Sebastian Flynn mean something. That I would dedicate my life to his ruin, and before I could set it all on fire, he would sleep soundly six feet under. It was certainly in character for him.
The smell of leather and wood shifted in the air the moment I stepped through into what was the library of Fairview. Countless books filled shelves on every wall with a spiral ladder that went to a second floor filled with the same. Two rectangular windows on the east wall let in the only natural light, but for the most part, it was as dark as a cave. A few candles were lit around the room, but the effect was shadows that made me wonder if Fairview was haunted.
Sebastian Smith pulled out two glasses from a corner cabinet and poured amber liquid that was probably a hundred years old or more. It was what he used to brag about at every opportunity as he sipped his liquor that Henry VIII probably kept stored in his cellar. The last decade aged him to the point that his once strong jaw sagged and his eyes drooped down into bags. If I were a betting man, I would say he already had one foot in the grave.
“You’re ill,” I said, cutting through the silence.
Of all the ways I thought I would begin this conversation, this wasn’t it.
He held out the glass to me.
“I believe the doctor referred to it as dying,” he said.
With a long sigh, I took the drink from it and let the liquor coat my throat and drown out my beating heart. Billy would have called this ironic. Would have said something about how a man could spend his whole life planning just to take one wrong turn and end up dead. Life was meant to be lived, not planned.
The loss of him came in waves. The only good in me was what I learned from him, and the fact that this man before me livedwhen Billy didn’t was a damn sin. If I were ever a believer in a higher power, I would have cursed their name. My mother was a good woman, but she was buried six feet under while her abuser lived comfortably. No divinity that allowed that would ever have my prayers.
“Why didn’t you come to Newgate?”
I was a fish out of water and a compass without a point. It didn’t matter that I’d travelled the world and created a legacy that would long outlive me. Standing here, even though I was taller, stronger, and bigger than him, I was only a fourteen-year-old boy searching for validation. It didn’t matter that I hated him; some needs were ingrained into our very marrow.
He took another slow sip, but his hands tremored, and a bit splashed onto his shirt. Seas, he’d seemed so large when I was a boy. A force to be reckoned with. Now he was just a dying old man.
“I thought dying would be a fitting punishment for your petulance,” he said.
And it probably would have been.
“And what- you were just going to let the estate and your title go to the crown?” I asked.
Despite the ocean that raged within me, the words came out calm. It was like the world stilled for a moment, and in this space lived an alternate reality. If I spoke too loudly or made too quick a movement, it would all evaporate, and I’d lose it.
He shrugged and sat down on a high leather-backed seat at the center of the room. His breathing was rough, as if it all cost him a great deal of energy. He gestured to the chair a few feet away that mirrored his own. An order.
Maybe I was still only a fourteen-year-old boy because I sat down, resting my head against the leather and breathing in all the air I could muster. It wasn’t enough. The pressure inside my chest was far too encompassing.
“I was considering giving it to the Allan boy. He is missing a father, and I am missing a son.”
I snorted. A worse heir I couldn’t imagine.
“He’s owned a company for a mere four months and run it into the ground.”
Sebastian Smith nodded his head.
“So he did, but I suspect there was an element of vengeance at play.” he eyed me, weighing my worth within ten seconds. “It’s a shame you ended up wasting your life on revenge. I followed all your exploits. You made a strong name, but you failed to consider that time was a greater adversary.”
“I considered it; however, I was of the mind that evil didn’t die so easily.”
Smith laughed, and it raked across my skin like the tendrils of a kraken.
“Turns out all it takes is a failing heart.”
“I wasn’t aware you had one.” I shot back.
He raised his glass, nodding his head before taking a long sip. As if he were toasting to his own mortality. When he finished, he tapped his finger on the glass like a rhythm only he understood. I tried to steady my breathing, but I hated the mirror that sat across from me. The habits that followed me across the world were made by him.
“You don’t have to stop hating me to be my heir,” he said.
Of all the things I expected him to say, to call me a whore’s son or laugh at how my life's work was currently in flames, propositioning me into carrying his name wasn’t one of them.
