Torn (The Fosters of New York 3)

"A retreat?" I parrot back. "You were on a luxury cruise ignoring your family."

"Think what you will." He looks right into my eyes. "I was on a retreat, contemplating my life. That happens when you get to be my age."

"You couldn’t contemplate your life while returning an important phone call?"

"I've been a horrible father, Asher." His hands tremble as he folds them together in front of him. "I want to change that now."

I shake my head as I cast my eyes up to the ceiling. "You don't even know how ironic that is. You can't know how fucking ironic that is."

"I do know." He drops his face into his hands. "I know that I've failed each of you."

I'm not going to argue him on that point. He's right. He has failed us all. He checked out when he and my mom divorced. He set course on a new adventure that involved shallow women and lonely holidays. It was by his hand though. I don't feel an ounce of pity for him.

"Why did you come here?" I look at Roman directly. "Why drag them along with you? You can't face me yourself?"

He raises his chin. "This is about our family."

I laugh. It's so hard that I roll my head back and grab my stomach. "Which family? The one you abandoned? Or the one you and mom pretended to have before you finally bit the bullet and walked out?"

Caleb rests his hand on my shoulder. "You need to take a breath, Junior. Let him talk."

I spin around. "It's easy for you to say that. You don't know the things I know."

"What the fuck am I missing?" Gabriel interrupts before Caleb has a chance to respond. "I feel like an outsider."

I shake my head. "You feel like an outsider? That's almost laughable, isn't it dad?"

I hear my father break before I turn around to see it. He's on his knees, his face in his hands as he sobs, loudly.

Caleb moves around me, pulling him to his feet. He leads him to the dining room table, setting him into a chair. He kneels next to him, his hand stroking my father's neck, whispering something to him.

I walk past the table and into my bedroom. I yank the envelope from where I'd left it on my bed. I grab the flash drive and my laptop.

Gabriel watches me as he stands near the table. Caleb is still trying to console my father. I want them all out. Once I play the voicemail they'll get why I'm so fucking pissed off. They'll leave and I can too. All I want is to find shelter in Falon's bed, in her arms.

I open the laptop. It takes fucking forever for the screen to pop to life. Just as I'm sliding the flash drive in, Caleb's arm grabs my hand. "Don't put him through that, Asher. Don't."

I turn towards him, yanking my hand free. "You don't know what the fuck this is. Once I play it, you'll understand."

He moves closer, his hands jumps to cup my neck. He holds me there, his gaze boring into me. He swallows hard. It's so hard I can see his throat move with the motion.

"I've heard it. Caterina tried to sell it to me months ago. She's just a money hungry bitch. Let it go."

"Let it go?" I rest my forehead on his. "You don't get it. You don't know what it's like. You belong with them. I don't anymore"

His eyes fill with tears. My brother, the one who I've never seen cry, weeps right there in front of me.

"I don't belong." His voice is no more than a whisper. "That voicemail isn't about you. It's about me, Asher. I'm not his son."

I inch back so I can stare at his face. My eyes move across his wide forehead to his dark brows and his brown eyes. I study his lips, his nose and when he moves to embrace me, I pull him into my arms. I weep with him, for him, for myself and for my dad.

"What does that mean?" Gabriel pats me on the back. "You're his son, Caleb. You're my brother."

Caleb pulls back and wipes his face on the sleeve of his dress shirt. "I'm your brother. I won't let anything change that."

"What's on that flash drive? Can someone explain exactly what the fuck is going on?" Gabriel's voice is edging anger.

"I will." Caleb pats Gabriel on the shoulder before he leans back down to kiss my dad's forehead. "It's okay, Papa. It's time."