When I next open my eyes the sun is filtering through my bedroom window and I’m alone. For a moment I’m the person I always was, but then the recent revelations come back to me. I feel the pain as soon as I lift my head, but I don’t give a shit how my head feels. Kicking out of bed, I glance over at my phone. I turn it on to see missed calls and messages from late last night and most recently an hour ago. My mother, Jack, Bell, the guys, and Ivy have all called. I turn it back off—I can’t deal with any of them right now, not even Ivy. Instead I walk out of my room and through the living room into the kitchen. River’s sitting at the kitchen table that used to belong to my grandparents . . . the people I thought were my grandparents anyway. He’s sipping a cup of coffee and thumping his fingers on the wooden tabletop.
He watches me cross the room to the coffeepot. I pour a cup and move to head out the back door onto the balcony.
“Where are you going?” his voice asks calmly.
“Outside. Where does it look like I’m going?”
“Xander, let’s talk about this.”
I pause at the door but don’t turn around. “Everything in my life that I thought was real was a lie. Fuck, even this house that belongs to me is a lie. It was willed to me by the two people I admired more than anyone in this world and they weren’t really mine. So what’s there to talk about?”
“Stop being such a f**king douchebag and sit down and talk to me.”
I open the door. “Fuck you.”
“You’re my brother and I’m concerned about you. Please talk to me.” His voice sounds just as shaky as mine.
Closing the door, I lean my head against the cool glass.
“You and me—we’re the same as we were two days ago. Nothing has changed. We’re always there for each other. We always have been. Come on, Xander, we’re the same two kids that grew up together, fought with each other, went to school together, took care of our drunk father, watched over our sister, looked out for our mother. We started our careers together. We know who we are. Whose DNA runs through your veins doesn’t change any of it.” His voice rising slightly, he adds, “None of it!”
I turn around and close the distance between us, taking a seat across from him.
I look at him for a long while before speaking. “You know, it’s weird, but I don’t feel any different. Both men are dead, so what’s it matter?”
“It doesn’t matter. That’s what I’m saying.”
I nod and try to put everything in perspective.
He looks me in the eye. “You know I love you, right?”
I roll my eyes. “I was just starting to think you had stopped being such a pu**y and now you’re going to talk about feelings?”
River takes a serious tone. “No, Xander, I’m serious. I want to talk to you about Mom.”
One solid f**king hour we spend talking about how I need to go talk to my mother. I tell him I’m not ready. I mean, I’m still digesting that I’m not who I thought I was. All he keeps saying is that I’m the same person I’ve always been—and f**k, I know he’s right. I just need time. We slam our fists on the table, throw both our coffee cups across the room, and I almost walk out about a dozen times, but the storm passes and now we’re both lying on the huge L-shaped sofa in the living room reminiscing about our youth.
“You should take that ’Vette out of storage,” he says.
“I hate that f**king car,” I tell him.
“Really? Then why have you held on to it for all these years?”
“Because Grandpa bought it and he helped me get it running again after it sat in his garage for so long.”
“Xander, come on, I know as well as you do that you loved it that Dad gave that car to you. Do you know how pissed I was when I was finally able to drive and I begged Dad to make you share it with me and he said no. He actually said it was yours and yours only. Then when you wouldn’t even let me drive it—that pissed me off more than anything.”
“I forgot about that.”
We’re both quiet for the longest time, and I try to remember the last time I even set eyes on that car.
River sits up and breaks the silence. “Xander, I’ve got something to tell you.”
“Please, no more feelings. I can’t take any more of it.”
“Fuck off! I’m being serious.”
“Okay, what?”
“Damon shut the tour down. Everyone arrived home this morning.”
“What an ass**le.” That’s all I can come up with because I can’t even think about work or the band.
After a few more minutes of silence, I’m tossing a basketball above my head. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Do you know anything about Dylan Wolf? What kind of person he was?”
“No,” he answers softly. “Can I ask you something?” he counters.
“Maybe,” I answer.
“Why do you think Damon made the announcement?”
My heart starts pounding and I bolt upright, tossing the ball aside. River’s eyes flare to mine. “I don’t know. But I’d wager it has something to do with money,” I say with a lump in my throat that I can’t swallow.
River frowns and crosses a leg over his knee. “Go on.”
“With everything that’s been going on with Ivy and the tour, he still kept it going. It had to be for the money. He could have given a shit about the band. Then his old man dies and he cancels the remaining shows even after I left. When I confronted him, he kept throwing things out there about me being like my father. I assumed he meant Nick, but he must have meant his brother.”
The doorbell rings. Blood rushes to my face and my shoulders stiffen. “Don’t answer it,” I bark.
River shrugs. “Don’t be a dick. You can’t stay locked up all day. People are looking to talk to you.”
“By people, you mean Mom?”
“Yeah, Mom, Jack, Bell, the band. Everyone that cares about you.”
“I’m not ready to talk to Mom.”
“It’s not her anyway. I told her I’d call when you were ready. I made her promise to give me the time I needed to talk to you. But, Xander, she’s a wreck. Don’t make her wait too much longer.”
I stand up and stare at him. “When did you become so mature?”
He shakes his head at me.
Walking over to the door, I look through the peephole to see who it is. It’s Aerie.
As soon as I open the door she rushes in. She’s dressed more casually than I’ve seen her before. She’s wearing some kind of track suit. Her blond hair is pulled back and the sneakers on her feet make her seem really short. She’s almost a whole head shorter than me.
“Xander,” she greets me in total business mode.
“Aerie, what are you doing here?” Then I remember she asked for an interview. “Now is not the best time for that interview.”
“That’s not why I’m here.”
“What’s going on?” I ask her as I close the door.
“Can we sit down and talk?”
“Sure. Come in.” I move past her, escorting her toward the living room.
River’s still sitting on the couch and stands up the minute he sees her.
“River,” she says softly and crosses the room to hug him. She holds on to him tightly. “I’m so sorry I had to run out on Dahlia. As soon as I explain everything to the both of you I’m heading back over to see her. Jagger’s meeting me there with lunch from her favorite place.”
“She understands. I’m sure she’d love to see you,” River responds.
She pulls away. “Mind?” she asks, looking at me and pointing to the large graphite-colored chair that used to be my grandfather’s favorite.
“No. Have a seat.” I wonder what could be so urgent that she would come over here to talk when I know she’s obviously seen the headlines. “You want a cup of coffee?”
“No, thank you, I don’t drink coffee. I’m fine really.”
Aerie takes a deep breath, pulls some papers out of her bag, and sets them on the large glass coffee table. “Well,” she says, “I have something I want to show you.”
“Okay. Shoot.” I’m a little agitated that she’s not just getting to the point, but I think I get it. “Fuck, did Damon send you over? What does he want now? For me to sign some kind of huge-ass contract?” I say, pointing to the stack of papers on the table.
“Xander, relax, man. Let her finish.”
“Didn’t you hear?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Hear what?”
“Damon no longer owns Sound Music Magazine. If it hasn’t been announced yet, it will be later today.”
River raises an eyebrow. “Really? Why’d he sell it?”
Aerie snickers. “Well, he didn’t really have much of a choice. We were in poor financial condition. I actually think it was a takeover. I’m not sure about the details, but I’ve been reassured that the company that bought it intends to keep the magazine intact. I’ve never been more thankful in my life on both counts.”
“Who bought it?” I ask her.
Aerie shrugs her shoulders. “A company by the name of Plan B. It’s a small private company. Sound Music is its first acquisition, but I know another magazine is being shopped.”
“Interesting,” River responds.
“Are you concerned?” I ask him.
“No, just curious.”
“Sounds like perfect timing if you ask me,” I interject.
“It is,” she says, looking a little nervous. Then, “I can’t divulge the details just yet. I’m sorry.”
I shrug. It’s no skin off my back.
She fumbles through the papers on the table and my agitation level only grows.
“Well, I don’t want to keep you. I just wanted you to have these,” she says after she’s located what she’s looking for. She rises and walks over to where I’m still standing at the bottom of the steps in the living room.
“What are they?” I have to ask because I have no f**king clue why she’s handing me a stack of papers with numbers all over them.
“Sales reports and various supporting documents from when your father was signed under Sheep Industries’ Little Red label.”
I hand the papers back to her. “What do you want me to do with these?”
She pushes them toward me. “Look at them.”
“Aerie, I have a lot going on right now. Can this wait?”
“Xander, I wouldn’t be here if it could wait. I talked to Ivy yesterday and she told me everything. I know your mind is probably in a million places, but these reports are what she needs to get out from Damon’s hold.”
“Damon’s hold?” I question.
“Yes. Damon is blackmailing her—or he was. I wanted her to have the information either way.”
“Fuck, I knew he was up to something. I just wasn’t sure what. Do you know what he’s holding over her?”
“All she told me was that he’d said he ruined Nick and he would do the same to you. But I overheard him on the phone with his attorney just before the takeover became official, and he said at least the marriage clause was executed before his old man passed. I know it has something to do with the will, but that was all I heard.”
“Josh Wolf’s will going public has to be news to everyone. I can only guess the bastard wanted to be the first to report it. Put his own spin on it,” River muses.
Aerie flips through the stack and hands me two sheets of paper. “Well, here is what I found. This report is from Little Red’s records,” she says, pointing to the column on the right. “And this one I just got,” she says, pointing to the one on the left, like I have any idea what that means.
I look at both pieces of paper. My eyes scour the numbers. They’re different. I read the handwriting on the bottom and have no problem deciphering what this means now. “Where did you get these?”
“What are they?” River asks, standing and crossing his arms over his chest.
Aerie explains. “One set was in the basement of Sheep Industries, the other is from a box of old papers that I found in my uncle’s things when Jagger and I were going through everything a couple of months ago.”
I want to question her further, about how she got documents from the basement of Sheep Industries and why would sales reports of a record label be among her uncle’s things, but right now I don’t give a shit where the information came from. I stand there dumbfounded as River comes over to us and looks over my shoulder. “They’re for the same period of time, but there’s a huge discrepancy in reported earnings,” he manages to say, shock evident in his voice.
“Exactly!” Aerie says.
What kind of person does that to someone? I have to sit down, and once I do, I read the handwritten note again, but it begins to blur. River sits next to me, both of us staring at the series of numbers in front of us. Spots cloud my vision and my heart pounds for the man I always knew as my father—the one who wanted his whole life to be successful and thought he’d failed . . . when in actuality he was a superstar in his own right.
Utter silence falls in the room. River and I both sit there in shock, absorbing the information that might have changed both our lives . . . Maybe we both take the quiet to fast-forward that life in our minds, or maybe we’re barricading ourselves from the truth, maybe we’re just trying to stop the black fury that comes with the truth—or maybe those are just my feelings. I push aside the papers in my hands and lean over the others on the table, noticing that my hands are trembling. I look to my brother—his face is white, his expression blank.
He watches me cross the room to the coffeepot. I pour a cup and move to head out the back door onto the balcony.
“Where are you going?” his voice asks calmly.
“Outside. Where does it look like I’m going?”
“Xander, let’s talk about this.”
I pause at the door but don’t turn around. “Everything in my life that I thought was real was a lie. Fuck, even this house that belongs to me is a lie. It was willed to me by the two people I admired more than anyone in this world and they weren’t really mine. So what’s there to talk about?”
“Stop being such a f**king douchebag and sit down and talk to me.”
I open the door. “Fuck you.”
“You’re my brother and I’m concerned about you. Please talk to me.” His voice sounds just as shaky as mine.
Closing the door, I lean my head against the cool glass.
“You and me—we’re the same as we were two days ago. Nothing has changed. We’re always there for each other. We always have been. Come on, Xander, we’re the same two kids that grew up together, fought with each other, went to school together, took care of our drunk father, watched over our sister, looked out for our mother. We started our careers together. We know who we are. Whose DNA runs through your veins doesn’t change any of it.” His voice rising slightly, he adds, “None of it!”
I turn around and close the distance between us, taking a seat across from him.
I look at him for a long while before speaking. “You know, it’s weird, but I don’t feel any different. Both men are dead, so what’s it matter?”
“It doesn’t matter. That’s what I’m saying.”
I nod and try to put everything in perspective.
He looks me in the eye. “You know I love you, right?”
I roll my eyes. “I was just starting to think you had stopped being such a pu**y and now you’re going to talk about feelings?”
River takes a serious tone. “No, Xander, I’m serious. I want to talk to you about Mom.”
One solid f**king hour we spend talking about how I need to go talk to my mother. I tell him I’m not ready. I mean, I’m still digesting that I’m not who I thought I was. All he keeps saying is that I’m the same person I’ve always been—and f**k, I know he’s right. I just need time. We slam our fists on the table, throw both our coffee cups across the room, and I almost walk out about a dozen times, but the storm passes and now we’re both lying on the huge L-shaped sofa in the living room reminiscing about our youth.
“You should take that ’Vette out of storage,” he says.
“I hate that f**king car,” I tell him.
“Really? Then why have you held on to it for all these years?”
“Because Grandpa bought it and he helped me get it running again after it sat in his garage for so long.”
“Xander, come on, I know as well as you do that you loved it that Dad gave that car to you. Do you know how pissed I was when I was finally able to drive and I begged Dad to make you share it with me and he said no. He actually said it was yours and yours only. Then when you wouldn’t even let me drive it—that pissed me off more than anything.”
“I forgot about that.”
We’re both quiet for the longest time, and I try to remember the last time I even set eyes on that car.
River sits up and breaks the silence. “Xander, I’ve got something to tell you.”
“Please, no more feelings. I can’t take any more of it.”
“Fuck off! I’m being serious.”
“Okay, what?”
“Damon shut the tour down. Everyone arrived home this morning.”
“What an ass**le.” That’s all I can come up with because I can’t even think about work or the band.
After a few more minutes of silence, I’m tossing a basketball above my head. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Do you know anything about Dylan Wolf? What kind of person he was?”
“No,” he answers softly. “Can I ask you something?” he counters.
“Maybe,” I answer.
“Why do you think Damon made the announcement?”
My heart starts pounding and I bolt upright, tossing the ball aside. River’s eyes flare to mine. “I don’t know. But I’d wager it has something to do with money,” I say with a lump in my throat that I can’t swallow.
River frowns and crosses a leg over his knee. “Go on.”
“With everything that’s been going on with Ivy and the tour, he still kept it going. It had to be for the money. He could have given a shit about the band. Then his old man dies and he cancels the remaining shows even after I left. When I confronted him, he kept throwing things out there about me being like my father. I assumed he meant Nick, but he must have meant his brother.”
The doorbell rings. Blood rushes to my face and my shoulders stiffen. “Don’t answer it,” I bark.
River shrugs. “Don’t be a dick. You can’t stay locked up all day. People are looking to talk to you.”
“By people, you mean Mom?”
“Yeah, Mom, Jack, Bell, the band. Everyone that cares about you.”
“I’m not ready to talk to Mom.”
“It’s not her anyway. I told her I’d call when you were ready. I made her promise to give me the time I needed to talk to you. But, Xander, she’s a wreck. Don’t make her wait too much longer.”
I stand up and stare at him. “When did you become so mature?”
He shakes his head at me.
Walking over to the door, I look through the peephole to see who it is. It’s Aerie.
As soon as I open the door she rushes in. She’s dressed more casually than I’ve seen her before. She’s wearing some kind of track suit. Her blond hair is pulled back and the sneakers on her feet make her seem really short. She’s almost a whole head shorter than me.
“Xander,” she greets me in total business mode.
“Aerie, what are you doing here?” Then I remember she asked for an interview. “Now is not the best time for that interview.”
“That’s not why I’m here.”
“What’s going on?” I ask her as I close the door.
“Can we sit down and talk?”
“Sure. Come in.” I move past her, escorting her toward the living room.
River’s still sitting on the couch and stands up the minute he sees her.
“River,” she says softly and crosses the room to hug him. She holds on to him tightly. “I’m so sorry I had to run out on Dahlia. As soon as I explain everything to the both of you I’m heading back over to see her. Jagger’s meeting me there with lunch from her favorite place.”
“She understands. I’m sure she’d love to see you,” River responds.
She pulls away. “Mind?” she asks, looking at me and pointing to the large graphite-colored chair that used to be my grandfather’s favorite.
“No. Have a seat.” I wonder what could be so urgent that she would come over here to talk when I know she’s obviously seen the headlines. “You want a cup of coffee?”
“No, thank you, I don’t drink coffee. I’m fine really.”
Aerie takes a deep breath, pulls some papers out of her bag, and sets them on the large glass coffee table. “Well,” she says, “I have something I want to show you.”
“Okay. Shoot.” I’m a little agitated that she’s not just getting to the point, but I think I get it. “Fuck, did Damon send you over? What does he want now? For me to sign some kind of huge-ass contract?” I say, pointing to the stack of papers on the table.
“Xander, relax, man. Let her finish.”
“Didn’t you hear?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Hear what?”
“Damon no longer owns Sound Music Magazine. If it hasn’t been announced yet, it will be later today.”
River raises an eyebrow. “Really? Why’d he sell it?”
Aerie snickers. “Well, he didn’t really have much of a choice. We were in poor financial condition. I actually think it was a takeover. I’m not sure about the details, but I’ve been reassured that the company that bought it intends to keep the magazine intact. I’ve never been more thankful in my life on both counts.”
“Who bought it?” I ask her.
Aerie shrugs her shoulders. “A company by the name of Plan B. It’s a small private company. Sound Music is its first acquisition, but I know another magazine is being shopped.”
“Interesting,” River responds.
“Are you concerned?” I ask him.
“No, just curious.”
“Sounds like perfect timing if you ask me,” I interject.
“It is,” she says, looking a little nervous. Then, “I can’t divulge the details just yet. I’m sorry.”
I shrug. It’s no skin off my back.
She fumbles through the papers on the table and my agitation level only grows.
“Well, I don’t want to keep you. I just wanted you to have these,” she says after she’s located what she’s looking for. She rises and walks over to where I’m still standing at the bottom of the steps in the living room.
“What are they?” I have to ask because I have no f**king clue why she’s handing me a stack of papers with numbers all over them.
“Sales reports and various supporting documents from when your father was signed under Sheep Industries’ Little Red label.”
I hand the papers back to her. “What do you want me to do with these?”
She pushes them toward me. “Look at them.”
“Aerie, I have a lot going on right now. Can this wait?”
“Xander, I wouldn’t be here if it could wait. I talked to Ivy yesterday and she told me everything. I know your mind is probably in a million places, but these reports are what she needs to get out from Damon’s hold.”
“Damon’s hold?” I question.
“Yes. Damon is blackmailing her—or he was. I wanted her to have the information either way.”
“Fuck, I knew he was up to something. I just wasn’t sure what. Do you know what he’s holding over her?”
“All she told me was that he’d said he ruined Nick and he would do the same to you. But I overheard him on the phone with his attorney just before the takeover became official, and he said at least the marriage clause was executed before his old man passed. I know it has something to do with the will, but that was all I heard.”
“Josh Wolf’s will going public has to be news to everyone. I can only guess the bastard wanted to be the first to report it. Put his own spin on it,” River muses.
Aerie flips through the stack and hands me two sheets of paper. “Well, here is what I found. This report is from Little Red’s records,” she says, pointing to the column on the right. “And this one I just got,” she says, pointing to the one on the left, like I have any idea what that means.
I look at both pieces of paper. My eyes scour the numbers. They’re different. I read the handwriting on the bottom and have no problem deciphering what this means now. “Where did you get these?”
“What are they?” River asks, standing and crossing his arms over his chest.
Aerie explains. “One set was in the basement of Sheep Industries, the other is from a box of old papers that I found in my uncle’s things when Jagger and I were going through everything a couple of months ago.”
I want to question her further, about how she got documents from the basement of Sheep Industries and why would sales reports of a record label be among her uncle’s things, but right now I don’t give a shit where the information came from. I stand there dumbfounded as River comes over to us and looks over my shoulder. “They’re for the same period of time, but there’s a huge discrepancy in reported earnings,” he manages to say, shock evident in his voice.
“Exactly!” Aerie says.
What kind of person does that to someone? I have to sit down, and once I do, I read the handwritten note again, but it begins to blur. River sits next to me, both of us staring at the series of numbers in front of us. Spots cloud my vision and my heart pounds for the man I always knew as my father—the one who wanted his whole life to be successful and thought he’d failed . . . when in actuality he was a superstar in his own right.
Utter silence falls in the room. River and I both sit there in shock, absorbing the information that might have changed both our lives . . . Maybe we both take the quiet to fast-forward that life in our minds, or maybe we’re barricading ourselves from the truth, maybe we’re just trying to stop the black fury that comes with the truth—or maybe those are just my feelings. I push aside the papers in my hands and lean over the others on the table, noticing that my hands are trembling. I look to my brother—his face is white, his expression blank.
