Page 69 of Wretched Soul
My hands curl into fists, but Ash simply sighs as if bored. “Is that what she told you?”
Barrett doesn’t respond, and it’s the right choice. Arguing would be a waste of all our time. Alice knows the truth, and Barrett is beyond being convinced of anything but the lies his mother has spun over the years. Our dad was a devoted husband and father, he just wasn’t cut-throat enough for Alice when it came to exploiting his genius. It’s why she took off with the best of his innovations, and made billions with the help of her second husband, Charles Emerson.
“Talking of manipulation, that brings me neatly to the final reason you’ve been summoned,” says Barrett. “Your attempt to recruit a dying woman in your bid to acquire more Emerson property has failed. I’ve had enough of you taking what’s mine.”
He doesn’t dare look at Maddie, but the meaning is clear. He’s not talking about land.
“Do I have to set my wife on you again?” Hunter warns. “Don’t play with the big boys, Barrett. You’re not suitablyequipped.”
I tip forward to catch Hunter’s eye. It might not be entirely appropriate to have a dick-measuring contest on Alice’s deathbed, but I approve. He smirks.
Ash is standing between us and leans forward to break us up. “Barrett, you don’t know who you’re getting involved with. This isn’t going to end well.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“We don’t need to. You’re a fucking danger to yourself,” I hiss. “We should just leave you to it.”
“And I’d be inclined to agree if there weren’t innocent lives at stake,” Ash points out. He’s glaring at Barrett. “Getting involved in human trafficking will make you more enemies than friends.”
“Go find someone else to intimidate,” Barrett says with a scowl. “You have no business in Poulton Springs, and I suggest it stays that way. You’re not welcome there.”
Alice’s eyes have widened, and I’m not the only one shaking my head, when I say, “Either you’ve grown balls, or you’re under the illusion that you have friends who can protect you.”
“Enough!” Alice says, her voice no more than a weak rasp. “Barrett, I want to speak to the others alone.” When he doesn’t respond, she raises her voice as much as she can. “Leave. Now.”
Barrett is twenty-six years old, but he stomps across the room like a moody teenager. He stops at the door and glares at Ash. “Five minutes. That’s all I’m giving you.”
It’s five minutes more than Alice deserves of our time, and she’ll be lucky to get two. We wait for the door to close and for Alice to say her peace.
“You’re his brothers,” she says in her best matriarchal tone. “You need to start acting like it.”
“Sorry, Alice, it’s far too late for that,” Ash says. “You were happy to bring Barrett up as an only child, and that’s exactly how he operates.”
“He will come to you when he needs help,” she says.
“And we’ll refuse,” Hunter replies. “War is coming, and he’s chosen the wrong side.”
“Please…”
A tear trickles down her cheek, and the sight of it hurts me more than it should. Alice is expending her final breaths on one son, and one son only. Curiosity gets the better of me. “Is that all you have to say to us?”
Her eyes flicker to me. “Ash is right. It’s too late to mend the gulf between us. There’s nothing I can say to make you think better of me.”
“In that case, we’ll go. I hope you find peace in your final hours,” Ash says.
His parting shot is more than Alice deserves, but my brother is more concerned with his conscience than hers.
“Goodbye, Alice,” Maddie says, and Hunter mumbles something similar.
They all file out, but I find myself reluctant to leave. Alice is too busy watching the door close to notice that I’m still standing there. My pulse steadily rises. This is the last time I’ll see her, and our final exchange will live in my memory long after her body’s turned to dust.
“Maybe you couldn’t put everything right, but you could have spared a few of your last breaths to treat us like your sons instead of a means to protect Barrett,” I say as her gaze pulls in my direction. “You could have thought about our feelings for once in your miserable life.” I run a hand across my face to escape her confused stare “Just once, Alice, it would have been nice if you’d spoken to us like you were our mother.”
Something lodges in my throat that I don’t much like. Too much emotion. It’s been a long day. I should go.
My footsteps cut into the silence as I head for the door. I reach for the handle.
“Son,” Alice says. It’s the first time she’s ever used that term, but before I can grasp the flimsiest of gestures, she goes and spoils it. “Play nice.”
