Vicious Minds: Part 3 (Children of Vice 6)

I didn’t say anything—mostly because thinking about the fact that my father was alive and his brother didn’t know it…felt low.

“Yes, your father and my father were the second sons. But our grandfather was the first. And our great grandfather, who set us all on this road, was also the first son. Each generation, there is a son, and if there are two, one naturally outshines the other. People don’t remember him much, but Declan’s father, Kil

lian, was the better one. He made plans, too, and he wrote his plans down. My father found those plans and followed them. He built his legacy on his brother, and no one knows.”

“Did he leave a blueprint?” I muttered, drinking and wishing for something even stronger than the brandy in my glass. I wasn’t sure what that would be, but I needed my throat to burn.

“Are you trying to overthrow your brother?” he shot back.

“That is not what I meant.”

“I think it is.” He grinned. “Even if it were only 10% of what you meant, a small part of you wants to prove you are just as good as he is, right?”

I didn’t answer that, either.

“It’s hard to be a man in this family and not think of it. What if it were me.” He smiled, looking into his glass. “I thought of it, but I realized I wasn’t like him. Your father. Some days it nearly drove me mad. After all, unlike you, I was the oldest, and unlike Uncle Killian, I didn’t die.”

“So why did you roll over for my father?”

He glared and shrugged. How else could I put it?

“Guilt.”

“Guilt?”

He nodded. “The guilt of never being the brother he needed, failing him so much, kept me from betraying him and wanting him to forgive me, accept me, count on me instead.”

“I’m looking for a witty reply, but I have none,” I whispered, leaning against the chair and looked to the fire.

“Do you feel guilty about today?”

“I didn’t say I did anything.”

“You would have been able to get on the same damn floor as Calliope if you hadn’t done anything.” He obviously overheard our conversation. “This is good for you. It’s a weight that will pull you back from ever listening to that voice again that says ‘it could be me.’”

I stared into the fire, drinking. We sat like that for some time before finally speaking again.

“Uncle Neal?”

“Yeah?”

“Did my dad ever forgive you for whatever you did?”

“I made many different mistakes. I never found out which he had forgiven and which he still held a grudge over. He was petty like that. But I like to think, in the end, he trusted me. My biggest regret, though, was not doing more for him because I was so conflicted about who I was supposed to be. Don’t overthink it. You’re lucky in that you are much smarter than I was. So, just support him better next time.”

I nodded, but I couldn’t help but wonder how many more years it would be before Ethan and I got on the same page.

“So, just don’t try to kill his wife or die before the next time. You’d only be remembered as an idiot.”

I glanced over my shoulder to see him grinning at me. “You were doing better with the pep, and then you ruined it!”

He laughed at me.

And in the silence, I found myself feeling the guilt.

I had no words.

Just guilt.