Page 58 of Gray Area

I get back first and start coffee. The line at Dunkin had been insane, and I was too fidgety from all the shit spinning in my head to wait, so they’ll have to settle for drip. Slade comes in first with a box of Town Donuts from Dartmouth, the best fucking donuts in the area. Axel arrives about ten minutes later with a bloody lip.

“What happened to you?” I ask. Monday mornings are just check-ins. Usually the bloody lips come on rent collection weeks.

“A chick,” he says and grabs a donut, shoving it in his mouth, effectively ending the conversation.

I nod and grab mugs. “Pour your own,” I tell them.

Once we all have coffee and donuts, Slade is the one to rip the Band-Aid off. “Are we in trouble?” he asks as he shops the donut box for his third donut.

I smirk at him and take a sip of my coffee. “No, but the other day when Dad came to fix my door that you assholes broke—”

“That was Axel!” Slade announces around the large bite of donut he has in his mouth, wasting no time in throwing our brother under the bus.

I roll my eyes at him. “Anyway, he says he is thinking of retiring sooner than he thought.”

Slade nods, taking the information in while looking down at the table, but Axel searches my face. I know Axel. He is perceptive, and he’s trying to find out the why behind my father looking for an out much earlier. Axel knows something isn’t right, but he won’t ask me. He’ll try to figure it out for himself or go to the source, and I appreciate that because it isn’t my answer to give.

“He also told me that he’d talked to you guys about what the business will look like once he isn’t part of it anymore,” I say, trying to be as delicate as my nature will allow.

They both have eyes on me now, but I wait. I don’t want to be the one to say it. “You lead it,” Axel finally says, taking the discomfort away from me.

“Uh-huh,” Slade agrees, again around a bite of donut. I’m beginning to think he honestly didn’t bring any of the donuts to share with us.

“But what does that mean? What does me leading look like?”

Slade finally frees up his mouth and takes a sip of coffee. “Declan, I’m not the guy who can make solid split-second decisions. I know how to shmooze and win people over, but my in-the-moment thinking is usually to maim. And the direction that you want to take us in, the way that we are going, maiming people is not a great knee-jerk reaction for someone in power. So for me, I would prefer to be the PR guy, you know, and numbers—I like numbers and I’m good at them. So I could figure out where it’s best to invest more money. I’ve been taking an online class in investing—”

“You have?” I ask, and Axel has an equally shocked expression on his face.

“I’m not stupid,” Slade reminds us with a smirk, “and yes, it’s not just you who wants to better themselves, Declan Jude.”

His tone of a hurt sorority girl has me laughing, and even has a slight smile crossing Axel’s face.

“What about you?” I ask Axel.

“I like behind-the-scenes stuff,” he says. “I want to take over security and tech for our places. Maybe branch it out a little bit.”

“Okay.” That all makes sense. “And I would be just the figurehead?”

“You’d be the boss, Declan,” Slade says, and Axel nods.

I shake my head. “No, it’s a family business. I don’t want to be the only one making decisions.”

“Someone has to,” Axel says. “Too many people making the decisions gets messy, gets things fucked up. It can get people hurt,” he says, and shadows fall over his face.

He’s right. There can only be one head for the final say. “I want us to be something great,” I say, feeling a little uncomfortable saying it out loud. I feel like I’m baring my soul to them. “It’s going to be work, and it’s going to mean change, and it won’t be without mistakes or growing pains,” I tell them.

My brothers nod solemnly. “We trust you, Dec,” Slade says.

I’m trying to name the emotions I have at my brothers putting all their faith in me. I’m wondering if I am worthy of their belief when my phone starts ringing on the table, but I don’t recognize the number so I send it to voicemail. “I know Dad isn’t retiring tomorrow, but I didn’t want to push this conversation back,” I tell Axel and Slade. Again, my phone lights up with an unrecognized number, and once again I punch decline on the phone face. “We should make these kinds of decisions together always,” I say, but again my phone rings, and I pick it up beyond pissed at the interruption and ready to rip whoever is on the other end a new asshole.

“Falco.”

There is a pause on the other end before a timid voice speaks. “Uh, Declan?”

“Who is this?” I demand. No one has my phone number who doesn’t one hundred percent know who they are calling.

“Uh, it-it’s Bailey. Viv’s roommate,” she stutters out.

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