18. Tommy

18

TOMMY

The quaint little café's door jingled as I pushed it open.

The familiar smell of coffee beans and the quiet conversations surrounded me, creating a comforting atmosphere.

My gaze immediately sought out Marc, scanning the occupied tables. He wasn't here yet.

I hesitated near the entrance, contemplating whether to turn and leave, escape the confrontation that awaited us.

But deep down, I knew avoidance wouldn't fix the fractures in our relationship.

I took a steadying breath, reminding myself that this meeting was long overdue.

As I approached an unoccupied table by the window, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the glass—nervous eyes, tense posture.

I couldn't shake the unease that gnawed at me.

Marc and I had never been close before my kidnapping, and recent events had strained that bond.

It was time to confront the issues that lingered between us.

I took a seat, glancing at the menu but finding it hard to focus on the words.

Every passing second felt like an eternity, each one bringing me closer to the impending conversation.

I checked my phone, and a text from Nitro made me smile.

He and Spike would arrive at Olaf’s territory in a few hours. I silently wished them well.

There were no messages from Marc. Perhaps he was running late, or maybe he was having second thoughts too.

The minutes ticked by, and just as I was beginning to doubt whether Marc would show up, the bell above the door chimed.

I looked up to see him entering, and our eyes locked for a fleeting moment.

There was an unspoken understanding that we needed to do this.

"Hey," I greeted, a tentative smile on my lips.

"Hey," Marc replied, returning the gesture as he approached the table.

Marc’s expression was a mix of uncertainty and something else—perhaps regret.

He slid into the chair opposite me, and there was a moment of awkward silence.

"Look," Marc began, breaking the silence, "we need to talk about what happened. We can't keep avoiding each other, Tommy.”

"I know,” I ventured, still unsure how to begin.

“I shouldn't have lost my temper like that,” Marc admitted.

"It's not just that," I said, my gaze unwavering. "We've got to address everything—the note, the argument, and whatever's been going on between us."

Marc sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Tommy, I messed up. I shouldn't have let my anger cloud my judgment,” Marc said.

I appreciated the admission, but there was still so much more we needed to unpack.

“You’re my big brother, maybe I shouldn’t have kept secrets from you,” I said.

“Tommy, I need to understand what's going on with you. You've been distant, and I can't help if you don't let me in,” Marc pointed out.

I hesitated before finally meeting his eyes. "It's complicated, Marc,” I said.

"Try me," Marc urged. "We can't rebuild our relationship if you keep shutting me out."

I swallowed, then fingered the menu.

"Let's order something first," I suggested.

Marc nodded.

"You still like mocha lattes?" he asked with a small smile after we ordered at the cashier and returned to our table with two coffees and a blueberry cheesecake.

"I'm still fond of them," I said. I took a deep breath. "Let's start with something simple. How have you been? Is your PI business going well?"

Marc nodded, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah, the PI business is keeping me busy. Some challenging cases, you know? But it pays the bills." His gaze softened, and I could sense a genuine interest in reconnecting.

“What about you? How's life been treating you?" Marc asked.

I fidgeted with the handle of my coffee cup, a familiar nervous habit.

"Life has been... eventful, to say the least. Nitro and me, we’re doing great, better than great.” I paused, gathering my thoughts.

“That’s wonderful, Tommy. I can genuinely see he makes you happy,” Marc said.

“You probably heard about the recent incidents with Hicks and everything,” I ventured.

Marc's expression grew serious. "Yeah, I heard. Nitro filled me in on the details. It must have been tough for you, dealing with all of that,” he said.

"It was. But you showing up out of the blue added another layer of complication,” I muttered.

"I didn't mean to complicate things," Marc admitted. "I just wanted to check on you, Tommy. After everything that happened, I felt like I needed to be here for you."

"And I appreciate that, Marc. I really do," I said sincerely. "But you and Nitro… the tension between you two made things more challenging. I couldn't handle being caught in the middle of it all."

Marc sighed. “I know I messed up there. I should have approached it differently,” he said.

"It's not just about that," I confessed, glancing down at my coffee.

I went on, “It's also about you and Nitro shutting me out, making decisions about my safety without including me in the discussion. I'm not a child, Marc. I can handle myself, and I deserve to be part of the decisions that affect me."

Nitro and I already had a similar conversation before he left.

He nodded slowly, absorbing my words.

"You're right, Tommy. I should have communicated better. I... I let my protective instincts take over, and I didn't consider how it made you feel,” Marc said.

"That..was alot wasn't it?" I finally asked, taking a bite of the cake.

"It was," Marc admitted. "But this is good."

"It is?" I asked.

"The hard part's over," Marc explained. He fidgeted with his paper napkin.

“You know, Tommy, we never had the chance to really be brothers. You were taken from me so early...." Marc trailed off, looking uncertain how to continue.

"Hey," I said softly. "That changes from this point onwards."

"Yeah? You think we can do that? Be real brothers?" Marc asked.

I nodded, smiling. "I believe we can. We just need to work through things together. No more secrets, no more shutting each other out,” I said.

He sighed, visibly relaxing. "I've missed having a brother, Tommy. Someone to share stuff with, to have my back. I want that with you,” he said.

"I want that too, Marc," I replied. "But it's not just about us. Nitro is a big part of my life now, and I need you to find a way to get along with him. I can't have my brother and my mate at odds."

Marc hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

"I'll try, Tommy. For you. But it's not just on me. Nitro has to be willing to meet me halfway too,” he said.

"I'll talk to him," I assured Marc.

“You need to promise me something,” Marc said.

I raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"If you have an issue or if something's bothering you, talk to me. We're family, and family sticks together,” he reminded me.

"Got it,” I said.

We continued our conversation, moving into lighter topics.

It was a slow process, rebuilding our relationship, but as we chatted, I felt a weight lifting off my shoulders.

Maybe, just maybe, things could truly change for the better between Marc, Nitro, and me.

"So when's Nitro coming back from his trip?" Marc asked as we were leaving the cafe.

"Tomorrow night. He mentioned that his client would probably invite him and his best friend to stay the night over, if things go well," I explained.

"Then, maybe we can have afternoon coffee or early dinner tomorrow?" Marc suggested. He hesitated. "Is that too much?"

"No," I said. "That actually sounds like a good idea."

We walked side by side down the town’s busy streets.

"I'm glad we did this, Tommy," Marc said, breaking the comfortable silence. "I've missed spending time with you."

"I missed it too," I admitted. "We can make this a regular thing, you know. Just us, catching up."

Marc smiled. "I'd like that."

I was getting myself ready for another afternoon coffee date with Marc when my phone chimed.

After unplugging it from the charger, I saw two messages.

One from Nitro, telling me how he missed me and couldn't wait to get back home.

I quickly responded to Nitro's message, reassuring him that I missed him too and was looking forward to his return.

Then, my attention shifted to Marc's message. The new address he provided was unfamiliar, not even close to Cool Beans.

I shot him a quick reply, "New place? Is Cool Beans closed or something?"

The response was almost immediate, "Nah, just thought we'd try something different. Trust me, you'll love it."

Curiosity piqued, I decided to go along with it. After making sure I looked presentable in the mirror, I headed out.

I was planning on grabbing a ride through a ride-hailing service, when I realized I had no idea where Marc wanted to meet.

After pasting the address on my map app, I furrowed my brows. Did Marc make a mistake?

He wanted to meet in the middle of nowhere, of what looked like a an old quarry on the outskirts of town?

Was there some kind of secret restaurant there or maybe he had a surprise activity planned for us?

I grabbed a ride through my app, but directed the driver to my old apartment instead of the place Marc and I agreed to meet.

My heart raced as car approached the familiar surroundings of my old apartment.

I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

Marc's sudden change in plans and the peculiar location he suggested had set off alarm bells in my mind.

The driver pulled over, and I thanked him before stepping out.

As I approached the apartment building, memories flooded back—both good and bad.

I hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath before pushing open the door.

The familiar creaking sound greeted me as I made my way to the elevator.

Once inside, my mind raced with possibilities. What if Marc was in trouble? What if the messages weren't from him?

The elevator doors opened on the familiar floor, and I swiftly made my way to my old apartment.

The door was slightly ajar, and an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.

I pushed it open cautiously, half expecting the worst.

My heart pounded in my chest as I surveyed the chaotic scene in the apartment.

A cold draft from the open window sent shivers down my spine. Furniture lay overturned, and the room looked like a battleground.

I hesitated, taking cautious steps toward the overturned coffee table.

As I approached, I noticed the telltale signs of a struggle. The scattered items and the blood on the surface of the table made my stomach churn.

It was unmistakably Marc's blood, and panic welled up inside me. What had transpired in my absence?

Fear clenched my chest. I quickly grabbed my phone and dialed Marc's number, but it went straight to voicemail.

Panic intensified, and I rushed to the window, looking out to the streets below.

There was no sign of Marc. I looked around my apartment again.My hands trembled as I picked up a piece of paper from the floor.

It was a hastily scrawled note, written in blood, like the first note I received. I quickly scanned the words.

"Tommy, meet us at 8 Blue Jay Road if you want to see your brother again.”

The message was clear – Marc's life hung in the balance, and I needed to act swiftly.

Unlike last time, there was a name signed below the note. Killian Hicks. Killian Hicks – why did that name strike a chord?

The connection with Gregory Hicks sent shivers down my spine. The past had caught up with us, and Marc was now paying the price.

Without dwelling on the note's details, I dashed out of the apartment.

As I reached the street, a guttural croak caught my attention. I turned to find a raven perched nearby, its gaze fixed on me.

It was the same raven I had noticed yesterday, the one that seemed to shadow Marc at the cafe.

In that moment, I wondered if Nitro had sent one of the raven shifters to watch over me. I approached the bird cautiously.

"Marc's been taken. I'm going after him," I declared.

The raven shuffled closer, perching on a nearby bench, his eyes still fixed on me.

He emitted a shrill call, almost like a protest or a warning.

"I need to do this. My brother's life is at stake. Don't worry, I don't intend to keep Nitro in the dark," I assured the raven.

After updating Nitro about the situation, I hailed a ride, entering the address given on the note.