King Hunt (Boys of Brisley 1)

Chapter Thirty-Nine:

The End of an Era

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“I’VE ASKED ZEPPELINnot to say anything to either of you until I had a chance to, so please don’t blame her for not t-telling you,” my father said.

Immediately, I felt my chest tighten and my pulse quicken. I’d known when he called a family meeting that I wouldn’t be enjoying our little chat, but to hear that Zeppelin already knew about it and hadn’t told me made me even more apprehensive. Whatever he had to say, I was convinced it wasn’t good — and my pessimistic thoughts went directly to worst-case scenarios.

Cancer.

Heart failure.

Something related to Agent Orange exposure from the war, which we’d previously assumed wouldn’t be an issue.

“I’ve decided it’s time for me to relocate,” he continued.

“To where?” Ollie’s brows furrowed as he stared at our father with confusion and something a little like disgust. “You can’t possibly be thinking about moving back into the old house.”

Dad raised his hand with an air of defiance. “Don’t be a dick, Oliver. I’m old, I’m not stupid. While I have some feel-feelings about that house and the fact that my son owned it for years and didn’t tell me, no. I’m not talking about moving back in there.”

I felt my cheeks heat up with shame. I’d known what I was doing was selfish, but I’d at least hoped it was selfish for the right reasons, and I’d thought he’d forgiven me. “I’m sorry, Dad.”

“I know you are. I didn’t ask you to s-sit down with me to yell at you. I wanted to be the one to tell you both that I’ve decided to move into Windsor House. I’ll have a nice little apartment of my own with panic buttons in every room and nurses on staff around the clock. I’ll be free to come and go, but they have my physical therapy on-site and are far better equipped to help me,” he explained. “It’s time.”

Nothing about his words or demeanor seemed hesitant. This was what I’d been waiting for and hoping for. I’d fought him, nearly kicked him out, swore at him and said things I wished I could forget in an attempt to make this very thing happen — but now that he was sitting in front of me and saying the words, I couldn’t stand it. “Dad, don’t. Don’t do this for me. You’re not a burden, you’re not something that’s happening to me. I’m sorry I was such a selfish asshole for years, but it’s not like that anymore. I’m not like that anymore.”

He simply nodded. “I know you’re not, which is why this decision became much easier. I’ll tell you the same thing I told Zeppelin. I stayed not because I needed you, but because you still needed me. You don’t anymore. You let someone in, Sterling, and for you ... that is h-huge. The walls you’d built after your mother died were too high, too thick. If I’d have let you shove me to the side, out of sight and out of mind, they’d never have come down and you’d have been miserable for the rest of your life. You don’t need me to keep you human anymore.”

I saw Oliver tense in my periphery and hated the fact that he was here for this, but maybe it was for the best. I’d been cold to him too, even recently, and he’d spent the last several years just as shut off from his emotions as I had. Still, it was humbling at best and mortifying at worst to be called out like this in such an accurate and cutting manner. “Don’t go, Dad,” I said quietly. Begged quietly. “I hated not knowing how you were when you were in rehab. And you’re right, I’ve ... changed. But that just means I don’t want to waste the time we have left just because I’m terrified I’ll be the one to find you.”

“So don’t waste it,” he replied with a shrug. “Come visit me. You’re thirty-three years old, Sterling. You should be enjoying your life, enjoying Zeppelin without an old man requiring you to change your home and lifestyle to accommodate him. I want this. For both of us.”

Ollie squirmed, and part of me wanted to punch him for being so uncomfortable with emotions. It was hypocritical as hell, but our dad needed us to be his sons right now, not the constipated idiots we’d turned into. “Seems like you’ve made up your mind,” Ollie said. “And for me, it’s really no different than you living here. I don’t have objections if this is really what you wanna do.”

“It is.”

I stood, pinching the bridge of my burning nose to stop the swell of sadness threatening to morph into tears. My father was once again proving he was stronger and more intelligent than the two of us combined, so I wasn’t about to ruin it for him. “I’ll make the calls, Dad. I’ll make sure they get you a room with a view and one big enough for your things.”

“That’s what I’m t-trying to tell you, Sterling. I’ve already done it. I took care of it while I was in rehab. I move in forty-eight hours.”

My heart dropped and I clenched my jaw, but part of me was relieved that he took that upon himself instead of making me do it. “Okay. But I need you to understand that if you decide you hate it, you’ll always have a place here. And I’ll never stop regretting the time I spent trying to force you out.”

He stood, shuffling over and taking my and Ollie’s hands. “I know. You’re good boys, both of you. Your mother would be proud.”

I lost the battle I’d been waging to stop myself from crying. For a few moments, I wasn’t Sterling Bishop, hardass managing director of Bishop Financial, Dom to Zeppelin and the type of man people usually averted their gazes from. I was Sterling Bishop, the eight-year-old boy who wanted nothing more than to hug my mother after I realized for the first time that I couldn’t protect my little brother from everything.

I didn’t fight the group hug that followed or the tears that continued to fall. On some level, I knew it wasn’t about my father relocating to a place that was better suited to help him — it was about the despair I’d ignored since my mom died, the fear I felt for Oliver every time his gambling addiction or reckless behavior put him in harm’s way, the doubt I had that I could continue to be the type of man that deserved someone like Zeppelin.

It was about belatedly growing up, about trusting those around me, about the end of an era.

Whether I was ready or not, it was time to let go.

~

WE’D SPENT THOSE FORTY-eight hours in pajamas as we packed his things. Most of those two days were spent on the floor going through old pictures and reminiscing, telling stories and laughing about all the stupid things my brother and I had done as kids. I felt closer to my father than I had in over a decade, and despite my best efforts to stay present in the moment, I dissociated hard when we moved his things into Windsor House and said goodbye for now. I might’ve grown up in certain aspects, but nothing on Earth could’ve stopped me from grilling every doctor and nurse I came across on my way out about their security measures, how often they checked on their residents, and the top three leading causes of death in their establishment. I had one nurse so close to tears that Zeppelin had to physically drag me out of there and throw me back into the car, but I wasn’t about to apologize.

She rolled her eyes at my grumpy expression more than once on the ride home, but when we were settled again in the seemingly-empty house, it was Zeppelin who seemed on edge and fidgety, not me. I let her go for the better part of an hour before I snapped my fingers to get her attention and pulled her into my lap.