Harley and Joaquin moved here from New York after they graduated West Lorian High. They chose to live at our old house in Rydeville rather than move in with Abby and me. The two-story sprawling mansion on fifty acres is the traditional Anderson home that’s been in our family for generations, but we only got it back a few years ago. It had been left unmanaged, and it was badly in need of repairs. Rick and I pumped money intorenovating and modernizing it, but it remained vacant until my brothers returned to the area.
Dinner is a lively affair, as is usual when all the crew is together. Spirits are high a few hours later as we make our way into Pulse. Thank fuck, my organized wife called earlier and reserved a couple of tables at the back because the place is crammed to the rafters with every available space occupied.
We order tray service, talking casually over beers and wine. Our significant others get up to dance, and the discussion moves to the plans for this weekend. “Come to our place early in the morning,” Hunt says, crossing one ankle over his knee as he eyeballs everyone around the table. “There is a shit ton of Mathers’s files to go through.” Everyone is helping this weekend, and hopefully it means we’ll find something that will lead us to our brothers sooner than later.
“Sup dudes?”
Every head turns at my brother’s words. Getting out of the booth, I pull Joaquin into a brief hug. “You just get out of work?”
He nods. “I’m doing this large piece for a client, which involved four sittings. Tonight was the last appointment, and I wanted to ensure it was perfect.”
“Bring your portfolio next time you’re coming over so I can see.”
Joaquin had zero interest in going to college, and I’m glad Uncle Wes and Aunt Ruth didn’t force the issue. They were Joaquin’s and Harley’s official guardians until they turned eighteen. Joaquin was on the defensive when he first landed in Rydeville, expecting Rick and I to bust his balls about RU, but neither of us had any desire to force our brothers to do things they don’t want. Joaquin is a gifted artist, and I’m glad he’s putting his talent to good use. I’m proud of him. Harley too.
“Want a beer?” Jackson asks, handing him a cold one from the bucket.
“Thanks, man, and congrats. I saw the announcement online.”
“Thanks, buddy. I’m pumped for it but nervous too. Everyone assumes nepotism won me my place. The world is waiting for me to fail.”
“Fuck ’em.” I clink my bottle against Lauder’s. “You won your place fair and square.”
“The begrudgers will eat their words,” Hunt agrees.
“Who are you looking for?” I ask Joaquin, noticing his hungry eyes crawling around the crowded room.
“A hot piece I hooked up with last weekend.”
I swat the back of his head. “Have some respect. That’s no way to speak about a woman.”
Hunt barks out a laugh. “That’s rich coming from you. Have you forgotten how you treated Abby at first?”
“I haven’t forgotten. Why do you think I want my brother to hold himself to a better standard? I was a jackass, and that shit wasn’t cool.”
“We were all jackasses,” Charlie says.
“Some of us more than others.” Jackson’s tone carries a little edge, and I shoot him a warning look. The past needs to stay in the past where it belongs.
“Don’t be a hypocrite, Lauder. We all remember how you treated Nessa when she showed up at RU,” Drew cuts in, not mincing his words.
While those two have mostly patched up their differences, there are still some occasions where they get little digs in. It’s all quite juvenile really. Though neither has come out and said it, I think Lauder felt threatened by Drew’s presence in my life, especially as we grew closer. And I think Drew resents that Lauder took his place as my best friend after we were forced out of Rydeville and moved to New York. Yet the same issuesdon’t exist between Drew and Hunt, so maybe it’s just a clash of personalities and I’m reading more into it.
Whatever the reason, that shit isn’t going down. Tonight is a celebration and petty crap is not ruining the vibe. I drill a warning look into Lauder’s skull, silently commanding him to drop it. Thankfully, he bites his lip and lets it pass.
“Do better.” I squeeze my brother’s shoulder. “Be better than us.”
“Not sure it’s in my DNA, but we’ll see.” He smirks, thanks us for the beer, and disappears into the heaving crowd.
“He’s not wrong.” Drew grins, and I flip him the bird as I reclaim my seat.
“Harley isn’t like that,” Hunt reminds us.
“Harley is the best of all of us,” I agree.
“He might not be the only one,” Lauder says, referencing my lost brothers, and my heart aches for my missing flesh and blood.
I won’t feel complete until all my brothers are together again. “I really hope we find something tomorrow.” I knot my hands on top of the table as familiar agitation gurgles in my blood. “I need to find my little brothers.”
