11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Declan

I have to look twice. Moira has sent me a text saying that she’d rather go it alone. She doesn’t want me taking her to Scotland. My fingernails dig into my palms as my hands fist together. Dalton has returned from his personal phone call outside, and I have half a mind to leave, to walk out right now, but I can’t. It’s one thing to go be a support to her on a whim, during business, but it’s another thing entirely to run to her, force her to go with me instead of on her own. There’s a scenario I didn’t see coming. And I’m not sure what to do with it, nor is it the time to think about that, when Dalton’s face is set, like he’s going in a different direction.

The Ford brothers are building a newer airport, and while ground broke a while ago, there have been many pitfalls along the way. “The deal fell through with the metal distributor.” Dalton states gravely.

“Fuck them.” Jack says casually.

“We can’t just fuck them.” Dalton argues. “They’re the best metal fabricator in the country. It’s either them or we go to fucking Asia.”

“Yeah, fuck that.” Colton says. “I don’t want any of that Asian garbage on my bodies, man. We’ll find someone else.”

Jack tips his chin up. “What made them bail?”

“They didn’t like some of the details of the deal.” Dalton responds.

“Like what?” Jack scoffs.

“The payment terms. They want some ridiculous fucking turnaround time.”

“So what?” Jack shrugs. “We can fix that. That’s why we’re here with the Harris boys, dude. Isn’t that their job? To make sure that we’re liquid enough to pay off debts in record time?”

Da interjects. “Whatever you need, Dalton, we can handle it.”

Dalton sits back further in his chair. “What if I got a bad gut feeling about these assholes. It’s the payment terms, sure, but my gut is telling me that this is just the tip of the iceberg. We get into bed with these jerkoffs that are fucking around with us for nickels and dimes, and what else are they going to try to pull? Today it’s payment terms, and then we give them a multi-billion-dollar deal and they pull more shit.”

I wave. “Dalton, we deal with this sort of shit all the time. That’s why we have the best paid lawyers in the country, man. Don’t sweat it. We get an ironclad agreement with them, and make sure that they don’t fuck you over.”

“Exactly.” Jack agrees. “And our lawyers trump any lawyers in the country, so if they try to fuck with us, we sue their asses off, and then we bail.”

“I don’t know, man. It seems like a lot of fucking trouble. Why don’t we just go with the company we’ve always used.” He almost whines, but I can tell that his wheels are turning. These boys came to play, not to fuck around, and they’ve dealt with their share of bullshit, so they can smell it from a mile away.

“I told you why.” Colton states. “Because they’re already at full capacity keeping up with our current fleet. They can handle some of the new airport, but not all of it, so we need another set of hands in this. We’ve been through this. I say we do what the man says and hit up the lawyers. This isn’t our problem, Dalton. This is between the lawyers to cook up a kickass deal that they can’t say no to, and that they can’t fuck us over for.”

“We’ve got you covered, Dalton.” I reiterate. “Whatever you need, we’ll be there.”

He draws in a deep breath and releases it, nodding. “Okay.” He looks at Colton and Jack. “But it’s your ass if they cause any shit.”

“I can handle that.” Colton states.

We go on for another couple of hours, hashing out other, smaller issues, and agree to meet again in a couple of days. Da and I head over to meet Maverick, Malcolm and Ethan, at another meeting, and I feel like my head is going to explode after that. Da sees that all of us are looking burned out, so we head to dinner at his place. I catch myself glancing at Moira’s text message that I failed to respond to, and da sees me. “What’s the trouble, son?”

It takes me a moment to respond to him, trying to figure out the right words, since I’m at a loss myself. “She doesn’t want me to accompany her to Scotland.”

“Ah.” Da says, and I’m shocked, since he apparently didn’t see that coming, either.

Maverick overhears. “So, tell her you want to go, anyway. Fight her on it, man.”

“Are you nuts?” Ethan whines. “Just...go with her, don’t fight her. She’s probably just thinking that you’re busy and don’t need to be bothered with any of her shit. That’s the way women work.”

“He’s right. If I didn’t go and see Gretchen every chance I got, I’d never know if she needed anything. Women, good women, don’t take men for granted, and they’re independent. Same as Moira. She’s put herself through medical school, regardless of the circumstances with her money, she did it herself, with no support from her family.”

“She has her cousin Steph, and her family. Perhaps she just wants to lean on them and leave me out of this.” I counter.

“Only you know the truth, Declan.” Da argues. “Unless you want to spread that around, which will only lead you to trouble, you’re the best one to take her there and protect her.”

“What if she doesn’t need to be protected.” Maverick says, deadpan. “What if she’s already got her shit together and she doesn’t need this dumb fuck coming with her and fucking it up.”

I rise and dart to him. “What the fuck’s your problem, asshole!” I shout, spittle flying out of my mouth. He meets me halfway, ready to fight me with every bone in his body, same as me. What prompted this outburst from him is beyond me, but I’m sick of his shit. I’m sick of his fucking meddling, and he needs a black eye to see that. Da lifts off the chair quickly and stands between us. “Declan! Maverick! Enough!”

“What the hell is your problem?!” I shout at Maverick. “First you get me in shit with her and with da, and now this?”

Maverick pretends to dust off his shirt, adjusting himself, and he sits back down. “Fuckoff, asshole.” He seethes.

Da looks at him. “Maverick, what has gotten into you, hm? Why are you creating such a problem, son?”

He shakes his head, looking out the window, where I can see mama chatting with one of the landscapers. I had no idea that she was home, but she seems to be handing this guy his ass. No idea where Maverick gets it from. We’re all hot-tempered in this family. “Fuck.” He says. “I’m just pissed off. Sick of all this shit. Sick of it all.”

Da walks over to the bar and pours two highballs of whiskey. He brings one over to Maverick and gives him a look that says he better down it, or else. With one fell swoop, my brother tosses the drink back, and just when I think that the second glass is for da, he hands it to Maverick, and watches him toss that one back, too. “There.” Da says, satisfied. “It’s been a long time since us men did that, hm? It’s high time we had some drinks together and blew off some steam.”

“Da, that isn’t the answer here, and you know it.” I counter. “Maverick’s got his panties in a wad over something, and he’s hell bent on getting a new one torn for me somehow.”

I watch him drag a hand through his hair as the brown liquid starts to move around in his bloodstream. He scoffs a laugh. “You’re the easiest target, man. I can’t help it.”

With that comment, da rises again, goes to the bar, and pours another glass, which he hands to me, giving me the same look he gave Maverick a moment ago. In our family, the worst battles are worked through with one of two things: either beating the shit out of each other or drinking until we’re all so hammered we don’t remember what the fuck we were fighting about in the first place, and da is the one that usually makes the call on which method is best. It seems that matters of the heart are best dealt with with drink. I toss the whiskey back and wince as it burns all the way down.

Maverick watches me and after I finish grimacing, he and I look at each other, and laugh. “So, what’s the deal, man? Can’t handle being in love?” I tease, feeling the whiskey hit my veins.

“Na, I can’t handle us both being in love.” He counters.

“Ah, that’s my boys.” Da says, pleased, as mama walks in. He smiles and goes to her, as I watch them kiss sweetly.

“My dear, how is the gardener doing?” Da asks, holding her close to him.

“Good. Now that I’ve laid into him.” She answers, looking at me and Maverick, likely noticing that we’re both drinking. “I see that you’ve laid into our boys, too.”

“Ah, love, it’s nothing a shot of whiskey can’t handle.” He kisses her on the mouth again.

“And the Ford boys sorted themselves today?” She asks directly.

“Aye.” He nods, looking at her the way that he always looks at her when he holds her close like that.

“Mama, you need any of us to lay into anyone, just let us know.” Ethan states, sucking up, walking to her for a kiss.

She kisses him back sweetly, releasing da, and gives him a hug. “Where’s Peg, mama?” Caleb asks.

“She and Laney are asleep. Poor Peg is coming down with a cold, so I sent them to bed with the humidifier.”

Da watches mama with such sweet admiration it makes me ache. Mama is one that does not need nor want protection. I’ve seen her in action. Sometimes, she can be worse than da with her venomous temper. Caleb rises and gives mama a hug as well, and I watch the exchanges, until she comes to me. “What’s this I hear about your new love, Declan?” Nothing gets by mama or da in this house. “She wants to go face that brute in jail?”

“It’s her decision, mama. But, aye, she wants to go.”

Mama walks to me, dragging the armchair over, so that she can look me in the eye. “Declan, no woman is going to work her whole life, making something of herself, just to throw it away. No woman in her right mind, that is. Now, I know that you mean well, and she sees that, but if you want her to see how much you love her, then you’ve got to let her do what she thinks is right, Declan. Otherwise, she’ll always feel like she made her choice based on pleasing you. And resentment is a tough thing to live with, son.”

Da walks behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders, leans down, and kisses her head. “Let the boy listen to his heart, my love, just as I did.”

Mama looks up at him and smiles. “I am, Dougall, just as I did, too.”

Da takes her hand, guiding her back up to him, and he kisses her softly on the mouth. Mama looks at me, gives me a quick wink, and follows da out of the room. Maverick slides a hand down his face. “Fuuuuck. I’m not sleeping here tonight.”

Ethan snorts a laugh. “Aye. I know that look.”

“Too well.” I agree, crossing my eyes, tossing down the last spit of liquid in my glass.

Caleb chuckles. “Remember the time we walked in—”

I interrupt, bellowing. “No, we don’t, and neither do you.”

“God, they’re gross.” Maverick whines. “I’m outta here before the fucking ceiling tiles start to shake.”

“Aye, drive me home, shithead.” I tell him.

“Get a goon to do it, asshole, I'm just as fucking wasted as you are.” He whines, pushing my leg playfully.

“Both of you get in my truck.” Caleb says. “I’ll drive you home.”

“How jovial.” I say, feeling relaxed, and trying not to think about that text that I still haven’t responded to.

“You gonna answer that text, dude?” Maverick asks me.

“None of your fucking business.” I say conversationally.

Caleb glances at me from the rearview mirror. “You probably shouldn’t until you’re sobered up, man. Just a thought.”

“I’m not that fucking drunk, loser. Shit, I could drink you under the fucking table any day.”

“Tell that to the dribble of spit making its way down your chin, man.”

“Fuck you.”

Maverick slides a finger over my chin. “Hey, he wasn’t kidding.”

I slap his hand away. “Fuckoff! Don’t touch me, asshole!”

Another glance from Caleb. “Now, see, this is why I put you two in the back seat. I don’t need you clowns fighting up front like last time.”

“Fuckoff.” We both say in unison. Then his gaze meets mine and we both start laughing.

“There really was spit on your face, dude.” He laughs.

“Fuck you. And there’s cum on yours.”

He laughs. “I bet there’s cum all over mama’s face right now.”

“Oh! Gross! Fucking gross!” I shout, gagging, as I watch Caleb laughing from up front. “What the fuck is so funny, sicko! He’s talking about mama and da fucking, loser!”

“I know what he’s talking about.” Caleb laughs. “I just know that he’s also trying to get a rise out of you, and he’s being very successful.”

“Fuckoff.”

I look at Maverick, and he starts wiggling his pelvis, making suggestive moves, which he only does when he’s hammered. “Go fuck a monkey, asshole.”

He laughs, doubling over, and I punch him playfully in the back. “Loser.”

He stays in that position, and curls up, taking a nap, as I sit in the back, contemplating my next move. When I draw in a deep breath and let it out, not realizing how quiet it is inside the cab of Caleb’s car, he looks at me through the mirror again. “Keep it simple, Declan.”

“What do you mean by that.” I say as more of a comment.

“Any response beyond three words is making it complicated. It’s something I learned from some goddamn book I read back in college. Can’t remember the name of it. But I do remember the acronym, K.I.S.S., or—”

“I know, I know.” I whine. “Keep it simple, stupid. Everyone knows that, asshole.”

He shrugs. “Hey, it’s logic, man. You start complicating things, you’re adding to the problem. And what does da always say? If you’re not a part of the solution, then you’re part of the problem.”

“God, you’re such a kiss ass.”

“Call it what you want. It’s worked for me. Just saying.”

I keep silent for a moment, thinking it over, when I realize that he’s right. All I need to say is three words. I just have to pick the right ones. I want to take her, to be with her, to make sure that her old da doesn’t pull any fast ones, but I also want her to do what’s right by her, not by me. I’ll reign her in and let her know what I know when it’s the right time, and if it’s even necessary. So I sit there, as we pull onto my street, and I send the message, without thinking twice about it.

“Are you sure?”