Tuesday, February 6, 2024

Twisted Tuesday: You ARE the father...aka Morgan's revelation to Cole in Guitars and Choices

 


Guitars and Choices is available on Amazon here!

“You have no idea what I have or haven’t done!” Cole snarled, turning around.

Alex didn’t back away like he’d always done; instead, he closed the distance between them, stepping right into Cole’s face. “Then why don’t you tell me!”


“I almost died. By all rights that accident should have killed me. Had a lot of time to lay in the hospital and think about shit. The one thing that kept going over and over in my head was that I was alone. I hated it. Hated the way we’d all walked away from each other.”


“We grew up. Shit happened. People change.”


Cole snorted. “Yeah, I guess. I know Michael has.”


“And you haven’t? You don’t get to stand here and look miserable about the way shit’s gone. You were one of the first to go, even before Chase died.”


“Fuck you!” Cole snapped. “I was looking for Asher; what the fuck were you doing?”


Cole almost laughed at how wide Alex’s eyes grew at hearing that.


“I-I never knew that,” Alex stammered, making Cole smirk a bit. “But… what made you think you would find him?”


“I had to try. Besides, I’d found him before. When he did write, there were postmarks on the letters. I called home from somewhere in Missouri one night and Chase told me he’d gotten a letter from him a few days before; the return address was some PO Box in Chattanooga. I staked it out and, sure as shit, he came in there to check it, and for a while, it was all good; we were together.”


“So what happened, and why didn’t you bring him home?”


Cole shrugged. “Didn’t see any reason to come back, and Asher didn’t want to. We bounced around for a while, and then I decided I wanted to go to Mexico. He didn’t. I figured he’d follow, so I went anyway. He never showed up, and then time got away from me.”


“So why show up now? Why not stay away, if you can’t deal with the life he wants to lead?”


“’Cause I’m not willing to lose another brother,” Cole said. “I don’t have to like his lifestyle, but I don’t have to be a dick to him about it, either. I want my brother back. I didn’t tag along with him from here to Seattle back when we were underage and clueless just to turn around and lose him now. You have no idea what we went through when we were out there.”


“Neither of you should have been out there in the first place,” Alex shot back. “I get it; I know why Asher kept running away, but you—fine, okay, you followed him, you didn’t want him to be alone; I get that, I do, but why did you have to encourage him to fight and to treat people like they were just a means to an end?”


Cole ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I dunno. I don’t have any excuses, okay?”


“I guess that’s better than you trying to justify the shit you did. And no, you don’t have to be a dick to either one of us about our choices. We’re the only ones who have to live with them.”


“Maybe.”


“No maybe, Cole; that’s the way it is. You don’t get a say. You might be our big brother but you don’t control the way we live our lives, do you understand me?”


Cole threw up his hands, tired of arguing. “Yeah.”


“Good, because I’m not gonna let you hurt him or me ever again. I’m not going to give you the power to make me feel ashamed of who I am, and I’m not gonna let you drive him to hurt himself because you want to get back at him for not following you like a goddamned puppy. We might love you, but we don’t have to put up with you.”


Cole shook his head, shocked at his brother’s outburst and the vehemence in his words. It was nothing he’d have ever expected from Alex.


“I already said I didn’t come here to cause trouble.”


“Good, because I’d hate to have to fuck up your other leg.”


“As if you could.”


“Don’t underestimate me, Cole. Just ’cause you’re bigger doesn’t make you smarter, or more vicious. We grew up in the same house, remember. Don’t think I didn’t learn anything.”


“All right, back to your respective corners,” Morgan announced as he stepped out onto the porch.


Cole glanced at him, looming in the doorway with his arms crossed, and smirked at Alex.


“Guess you can act pretty tough, since you’ve got your daddy to hide behind now.”


“Guess that makes you both even, since I’m your old man, too,” Morgan snapped, his eyes widening almost as soon as the words had left his mouth. Cole stood, blinking, stunned into silence even as Alex shook his head and walked away.


“How the hell would you know? I didn’t take that stupid test like Asher did.”


“No, you didn’t give me a sample, but I got one anyway. Remember the night you called me a bastard and spit on the floor?”


“Vaguely; was kinda drunk.”


“You were shitfaced, but that’s beside the point. I swabbed it and sent it in. It’s official: You’re my son, not Jack’s. Which makes you Alexia’s brother, her full brother, so you can stop blaming whatever you think is wrong with her on me, ’cause if that’s the case then it’s in you, too.”


“The hell it is.”


“What the fuck are you really doing here, Colton?”


“Goddammit, Morgan, I already told you! I came to see Asher, to apologize for the shit I said.”


Morgan nodded. “I’d like to hope you mean it.”


“I do mean it.”


“We’ll see.”


“Fuck,” Cole muttered, and heaved a heavy sigh. “You’re my dad?”


“Yup.”


“Fuck.”


“That’s the way it works, in the crudest of terms.”


Cole couldn’t help but smile at that, even as he struggled to wrap his mind around the concept of Morgan being his father.


“I’d have told you, back in the city, but you didn’t seem interested in hearing a damn thing I had to say.”


Cole nodded, not trusting himself to speak.


“Look, I know it’s too late for fatherly advice and shit like that, but it would make me really happy to see you figure out what’s important to you in life, find something that makes you happy and settle down before you end up smeared all over a highway somewhere. I’d hate to have to bury ya, kid.”


“Not in any hurry to end up in a grave.”


“Good. Maybe someday you’ll realize life isn’t as shitty as you think.”


And with that he turned away, muttering curses at the sky and all the rain, leaving Cole to listen to the sound of it pinging off the roof as he tried to digest everything that had been revealed to him. 


“You use anger the same way Asher does: to shove people away, build walls, and hide what you really feel,” Morgan said. “I think you’ve gotten so good at it that you don’t even know what the hell you feel anymore.”

“You wanna know what I feel?” Cole asked. “Try pissed off all the damn time.”


“My point exactly, but the question is, why?”


Again, Cole couldn’t answer, at least not at first.


“Everything,” he said at last. “I’m pissed that Chase had to die. I’m pissed that Michael doesn’t give a shit about any of us anymore. I’m pissed that Asher didn’t follow me to Mexico when I trailed halfway across the country to find him. I’m pissed that you threw me out of the bar. I’m pissed that I never knew you were my father and that you waited so goddamned long to bother to find out. I’m pissed that I fucking fell in love with a woman and her kid and spent three years taking care of her, only to have her kick me to the fuckin’ curb as soon as her husband was getting out of jail. I’m pissed that Alex is trying to be a fuckin’ girl and is prolly going to get himself killed. I’m pissed that I damn near got myself killed, that my bike got fucked up, that I haven’t been able to do fuck-all to help Bishop build the bar, and that I have no goddamn clue how the hell to run the fuckin’ place despite all the shit I said to Michael about knowing I could handle it. I’m pissed that at the end of the day, all I have to look forward to is an empty room and hours of boredom because the only goddamned thing I was ever good at was fighting. I’m pissed that I never took the opportunity to go pro; that no matter how hard I worked, Pops never showed up to see me fight. I’m pissed that nothing seems to make sense anymore. I don’t feel like I know any of you anymore, and I don’t know how to handle that.”


He was out of breath by the time he got through his rant. He pressed his hands to the sides of his head, thumbs on his temples, pressing to keep the budding headache at bay. His leg still throbbed and the damp coldness of the ground was soaking through his jeans. He felt nothing but a bone-deep weariness and a desire to be done arguing with people and trying to explain himself. It had all been so simple when they were kids; all they’d had to do was stand together, knowing that if they did, they could survive anything.


Morgan placed a gentle hand on the back of his head. “That’s a good start,” he said, giving Cole a moment to let that sink in. “And there are no quick solutions to any of those things. What you need to do is take the time to confront them without anger and figure out what it is about each situation that has you so twisted up in knots.”


“And how am I supposed to do that?” Cole asked without lifting his head.


“Whatever way is going to work best for you.”


“I’m not gonna sit in some damn shrink’s office and have some guy in a suit pick me apart.”


“Then don’t,” Morgan said. “I never said you had to go that route. There are other ways, and if you’re willing, I’ll help you find them.”


“Don’t you think it’s too late to play the part of Daddy?”


“For as long as you live, whether you want me to be or not, I will be your father. It’s up to you if you want to accept that. But I have always tried to look out for all you boys, because I care, because you matter to me. Because I would have married your mother in a heartbeat if she’d been willing to leave Jack. I loved her.”


“Why didn’t she leave him?” Cole asked. “He was as much a bastard to her as he could be to us, especially when he was drinking or had a bad run on the circuit.”


“Fear, in part; she always worried that he’d keep his threat and find a way to take you kids from her,” Morgan replied with a heavy sigh. “She’d been brought up in the church, as you know, and she didn’t believe in divorce, saw it as failure and something to be ashamed of. There were times when she’d write about how much she wished he’d have an accident on a bull or pass out drunk behind the wheel and drive off a cliff. Once…”


When Morgan stopped speaking, Cole raised his head, searching his face for signs that he intended to continue.


“I never knew she’d bought a gun,” Morgan said at last. “Not until Asher found it and some of her letters in an old lockbox in the barn. I found one of her letters, marked return to sender because I’d moved on before it could get to me. In it, she said she planned to shoot him the next time he raised a hand to her or one of you kids. I don’t know what happened that she never used it; I think she found out she was sick and all her focus turned to trying to get better so you boys wouldn’t be left alone with him.”


“Do you think she’d have done it?”


“I think he’d finally pushed her to the point where she would have, and if that had happened, she wouldn’t have been the person I knew and loved anymore. Anger destroys people, Colton; it destroys families, can’t you see that?”


“Yeah,” Cole said. “That’s all I could see, all I could think about when I was stuck in that hospital bed. I just knew I needed to get to Asher and make things right.”


“Only Asher?”


“Didn’t think you’d give a shit one way or another,” Cole admitted. “Though I-I kinda wished I’d called and apologized for the shit I said to you. Could have used your advice, too.”


“I’d have given it gladly; still will,” Morgan told him. 



Don't forget to check out book one of the Guitars and Family Series: Guitars and Cages!


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