Chapter 20

Ramsay

"Dad? Mum?" I called, pushing inside the back door of my childhood home.

I'd grown up near Loren Brae, in a comfortable two-story, three-bedroom cottage on a large plot of land that allowed plenty of space for growing boys to work off pent-up energy from long days confined at our school desks. Andrew and I used to race across the garden, clambering up any trees we could find, certain we were knights protecting our castle.

A simpler time, and one I didn't like to think about now that Andrew had grown to be the man he was.

It had been over a week since I'd last checked in on my parents, and I wanted to update them on how things were going with Willow in the shop, as well as see if they'd heard about the cèilidh at MacAlpine Castle. When I'd found myself mooning around the store once Willow had collected Calvin after her trip to the shops, I realized that maybe I needed to socialize more than I had been lately. I was beginning to lean into hermit life with gusto. Prior to Loren Brae, while I hadn't been exactly a social butterfly, there'd been a weekly dart and pool league I'd try to stop in for and, when I was in Edinburgh, I loved going to see comedy shows at Monkey Barrel Comedy Club. More or less though, it was an unattached life, with nobody to answer to and an empty flat to come home to.

Muffled voices sounded from the sunroom, and I wandered past framed photos of my childhood—me in my school uniform, the family on a day trip at Edinburgh Castle, my parents at my graduation—and followed the scent of peanut butter through the house. Mum must have baked her famous crispy peanut butter cookies.

"Ramsay!" Mum beamed at me. A woman just shy of sixty, she had a trim figure, dark hair that curled to her shoulders, and was partial to matching knit sets and colorful silk scarves. Today she wore a plum cardigan with a floral and striped knotted scarf and stood when I entered the room.

I skidded to a stop.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded, my fingers curling into my palms, forming fists.

Andrew sat next to my father on the loveseat, a crossword puzzle between them.

It had been six years since I'd last seen Andrew, and he looked healthy enough, aside from a bit of weight he'd put on and the dark circles that hung under his eyes. He took after our mother's side of the family, with lighter coloring and a shorter build. I hated that I wanted to hug him just as much as I wanted to shove a fist in his face. We'd once been close, and it was hard to see through the hurt that clouded the good memories. I didn't want to see through the hurt. I no longer trusted Andrew, and the pain of his betrayal only served as a reminder to keep my guard up with him at all times.

"Can't a son visit his father when he's ailing?" Andrew held up his hands, as though he hadn't stolen and lied to our entire family.

"He had a stroke months ago, Andrew. Which you knew about because I called you and left a message. As did Mum. You're just showing up now?"

"Unfortunately, I was on a work trip in China. I'm just now home."

"You were months in China? I find that hard to believe."

"Truly, I was. Working on factory arrangements."

"And taking jobs away from our people."

Andrew's lip curled, and his eyes heated.

"Boys, that's enough. Andrew is our son, and he's always welcome here," Mum jumped in, trying to ease the tension that hung in the room.

"Even after he stole your money? Lied to us?"

"Bloody hell, Ramsay. You're always blethering on about this. I've apologized, haven't I then?" Andrew sighed.

"Saying sorry doesn't mean you've pulled your head out of your arse. Your actions don't show you're sorry. You're never around, you've done nothing to help, and I haven't seen a damn pound of the money that you stole, have I?" My blood heated as I stepped closer to him, wanting him out of this house. "I'm the one who paid Mum and Dad back."

"So? It's not like you need the money."

"That's not the point."

"Ramsay." My father's voice was soft, and I tore my eyes from my brother's face, where his expression bordered on a smirk.

"What? I'm not wrong, am I?"

"Let's just have our tea as a family," Mum urged, and I turned, catching the pleading look in her eyes.

My father hadn't been able to handle big emotions since his stroke, preferring calm environments with low stress. He didn't drive anymore, much to his frustration, but day by day he was growing stronger, and his faculties were returning to him. As much as I wanted to drag my brother from the house and toss him in the yard, locking the door behind me, I needed to respect my parents' wishes.

"I'm watching you." I pointed a finger in Andrew's face, and he rolled his eyes.

"Enough with this shite. There's bigger stuff in life to worry about, isn't there?" Andrew stood, his head only coming just above my shoulder, and I resisted the urge to shoulder check him.

But just barely.

"There now, that's lovely. My two boys home for tea. Come on then, I've baked your favorite cookies, Ramsay."

"You always were her favorite," Andrew mumbled at my side.

"Likely because I'm not a thieving bastard."

Andrew sighed and Mum, sensing danger, hooked an arm through mine and pulled me toward the kitchen. I glanced over my shoulder, catching my brother handing my father a folder, and my eyes narrowed.

"What does he want?"

"Nothing, Ramsay. He's just here for a wee visit."

"I doubt it. He wants something. What did he ask for?"

My mother sighed and opened the fridge, pouring herself a glass of white wine. Holding up the bottle she raised an eyebrow at me.

"Can't. Drove over."

"Och, right." Mum shook her head, waving a hand in the air, clearly distracted. "Don't be so hard on him, Ramsay. He never had what you had."

"Good character?"

"Your smarts. Your drive. Your heart." Mum smiled gently at me, and I went to her, pulling her in for a hug. She'd always been my biggest champion, and it had infuriated me when she'd cried over what Andrew had done with their savings.

"He wasn't always bad. Something changed."

"He's blinded by money, Mum. It's all that matters to him."

"He needs to find his way is all."

"At the expense of others?" I opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of sparkling water. Pouring a glass, I lounged at the table as Mum went to the stove. "Need any help?"

"No, thanks. Just reheating a curry I made earlier this week."

"I don't trust that he's here. Is he staying with you?"

Mum shot me a guilty look over her shoulder.

"Oh, come on."

"He's my son, Ramsay. I've always said you'd both have a place in our home."

"How long is he here for?" Worry kicked up. Andrew could do a lot of damage in a short time, and I didn't like that he'd be here unsupervised. He was up to something, I could feel it in my bones.

"I don't like it."

"You don't have to like it. But you'll respect my wishes." Mum, for as sweet as she was, had a backbone. I watched her as she stirred the curry. It hadn't been easy for her, these past few months, managing my father's recovery. A once active and vibrant man, it had been a change for him to slow down and allow himself to heal. His frustration often boiled over on those closest to him, and I knew my mum took the brunt of it. That was love, though, wasn't it? Being there for your person at their best and their worst?

I want that.

Love wasn't something that had been particularly high on my agenda, so the thought startled me. Even more so when it was Willow's face that came to mind when I thought about my future. While I could admit that I'd had many a sleepless night over my gorgeous intern, love was an entirely different thing.

Lust had me wondering what her kiss would taste like.

Love had me thinking about cooking dinner together, laughing over clothing designs, taking long walks by the loch on mild summer nights.

"Understood." I narrowed my eyes at Andrew when he walked into the kitchen, his hand clamped on my dad's shoulder, the two laughing.

Catching my eye, the clarty bastard winked at me.

Och, I didn't trust him. Which meant I'd have to be extra vigilant over the next few days.

Starting with seeing what was in that folder that Andrew had passed to my father.

"I'll just use the loo before dinner." I didn't know how I was going to get through dinner, as I could barely stand to be in the same room as Andrew. Standing, I left the kitchen and detoured to the sunroom, scooping the folder off the table from where it was largely concealed under stacks of crossword books. Flipping it open, I scanned the contents, my anger reaching a boiling point.

He was asking my parents for more money.

Because, of course, he was.

This for an investment in a start-up company, that I'm sure once I did some research, would likely be a front for something nefarious. I could barely breathe through my anger, and it took everything in my power not to stalk back into the kitchen, drag my brother out into the yard, and beat him into a bloody pulp.

But the thing was? People like him would never learn. He'd keep coming back for more. If it wasn't this investment, it would be something else. What I needed to do is figure out a way to protect my parents from his slimy hands. Sliding the envelope into my coat, I returned to the kitchen and gave my brother a smile that was close to feral.

"What?" Andrew eyed me.

"How's business, Andrew? Booming? Taking advantage of people who don't know the difference between good products and fake crap?" I took my seat.

"Ramsay." My mother's tone was sharp.

"Sorry, sorry. I'll be good." Lifting my chin at Andrew, I gave him the same look I'd give an opponent on the rugby field. His shoulders hunched.

Dinner was excruciating, but Andrew regaled my parents with tales from China, and I barely spoke, biding my time. Once dinner was over, I declined dessert and rose, having come to my decision. My mother's cheeks were flushed, clearly happy to have both her sons home, and I wasn't going to ruin that for her.

"I have to go. Andrew. A word?"

"Ramsay," Mum warned.

"Just a word. Promise." I gave her a hug, kissed the top of my dad's head and squeezed his shoulder, and Andrew followed me out into the yard. Once the door was closed, I turned on him.

"How much?" I asked, without preamble.

"How much what?" Andrew pretended to not know what I was talking about, shaking his head and raising his eyebrows. I pulled out the folder and tossed it at his feet, the wind taking a few sheets across the yard.

"Damn it, Ramsay."

"What's the investment really for?"

"It's a proper invest?—"

I hauled him up by his throat, slamming his back into the stone wall of the garage, and he gasped, grappling at my hands.

"What's it for? I won't ask again." My voice was low, and I could hear my mum singing inside.

"Let me…" Andrew gasped. I dropped him, and he gasped for breath. "For feck's sake."

I didn't respond, waiting while he caught his breath, my fists ready if he launched himself at me.

"I owe people money," Andrew finally admitted, his hands on his knees.

"Why? I thought your business was super successful."

"In theory. I have some debts."

"Gambling?"

Andrew didn't have to say it. My brother was the ultimate risktaker, always chasing a dopamine hit, and gambling was one way he fulfilled that need.

"Some." Andrew shrugged, straightening and crossing his arms over his chest. "But these guys…they're bad news."

"I don't care."

"Bloody hell, you've gone cold."

"I stopped caring about you when you broke Mum's heart."

Andrew had the decency to wince, his eyes not meeting mine.

"How much to keep you from ever asking them for money again?"

"I don't know."Andrew shrugged, his gaze dancing around the yard, refusing to land on mine.

"If you don't answer now, I'll up it to–how much for you to never ever contact them again?"

"What? Come on, Ramsay." Andrew's eyes met mine in shock.

"This is the last time I'll ask. How much for you to never ask them for money again? Not for a loan. Not for a gift. Not for a donation. Never ever anything to do with money or investments or anything shady. When you come here, it's as a son visiting his parents only. You won't so much as accept a Christmas gift from them." My hand came up, pressing him back into the wall again. "How much?"

"One hundred and fifty. Two hundred if you've got it." Andrew's voice dripped with shame. I closed my eyes, furious that he'd gotten himself, and now me, into this situation.

Again.

"You'll sign something. Agreeing to our terms. If you break them, you sign your businesses over to me."

"That's …"

I pressed my thumb to his Adam's apple, pushing hard enough that Andrew coughed.

"I'm not asking you to pay me back. Your payment is to leave them the hell alone. They're good people, Andrew. How they raised a piece of shite like you, I don't know."

Yeah, it was mean. But I didn't care. I protected those I loved at all costs. Even if it was against another so-called member of the family.

"Understood."

"I'll get the paperwork drawn up."

With that, I left him standing there, his head down.

As far as I was concerned, he was no brother of mine.

I was done pretending I cared emotionally.

The stupid shite had gone too fecking far. "One hundred and fifty. Two hundred if you've got it." Of course, I've got the fucking money, but I hate that I have to give it to the clarty bastard.

And even still, my heart twisted at the memories of what he'd once meant to me. I wasn't sure I'd ever get over the person he'd turned into, but I guess that was my own problem to deal with. For now, I just needed to get out of here and contact my solicitor.

I wished I had Willow to go home to. I could use her sunshine right now. Even if I couldn't reciprocate, it was hard to not be around her and absorb her constant cheerfulness. I knew she'd had some issues with her brother, but they were still in contact, even though she was keeping him at arm's length at the moment. I wondered if she would agree with what I'd done here tonight. To my surprise, I wanted to ask her opinion, her viewpoint mattering to me.

Maybe I'd bring myself to talk to her about it tomorrow. She had a good head on her shoulders, and she might be able to ease the sadness currently banded around my heart. I didn't really need anyone to validate my decisions, but something propelled me to want to speak to her about this. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to lean on a friend once in a while.