Change of Heart (Fostering Love 2)

“I don’t know, man. I think he got Hen’s paperwork, and something in there freaked him out.”

“They’re already sending his benefits and shit?” I asked in surprise, glancing at my twin. I was pretty sure that the military took their time with stuff like that.

“No, his will. I think he had it fixed the last time he was here. I don’t know why he didn’t use the services on base. It must have been annoying as hell to figure shit out when your attorney lives a thousand miles away.”

“The kid never did things the easy way,” I said with a snicker, turning onto Trevor’s long gravel road.

“I wish I knew what the fuck happened,” Alex said quietly, glancing out the window. “But they’re not going to tell us anything at this point.”

“Do you think they’re trying to cover something up?” I asked.

“Honestly?” Alex asked as we came to a stop.

“Yeah.”

“I think Henry was probably being a dick and was taking chances he shouldn’t have been,” Alex said through clenched teeth. He turned toward me, and his eyes were bright. “But don’t fucking repeat that.”

“Course not,” I murmured, watching him closely.

“They’re careful, brother,” he said. “They plan for everything. So if something happened to Hen, there’s a good chance he fucked up.”

Trevor’s front door opened, and he stepped outside wearing ratty old sweatpants and a flannel shirt. He looked like he’d been on a bender, and by the way he was swaying, I guessed he was still riding the drunken wave.

“They don’t ever need to know,” Alex said quietly, watching Trev.

He climbed out of the truck as I shut it off, and I followed him up onto the porch.

“Want a drink?” Trev said roughly, turning to walk back into the house. “I’ve got whiskey.”

“Nah, man, I’m good,” Alex said.

“I’m driving,” I answered, following them inside.

The house was mostly dark, but there was a fire going in the fireplace in the living room, and it looked like that’s where Trev had been camping out since he’d left Ellie and Mike’s the night before. There was a bottle of Jack Daniel’s on the table next to a water glass half filled with the brown liquid. Next to it was a pile of papers stuffed haphazardly in a manila folder.

“What’s going on, Trev?” I asked as he dropped onto the couch, leaning into a pillow that must have come from his bed.

“Fucking Henry,” he spat, shaking his head. “Such a fucking idiot.”

I met Alex’s eyes in surprise and stepped forward as Trev began to cry. He wasn’t sobbing or any shit like that, but tears were leaking down his livid face like he didn’t know whether to be angry or sad.

“You got his will?” Alex asked, sitting down in a rocking chair next to the couch.

“Man, he fucked up,” Trev said quietly, shaking his head. “Hafta tell my parents, but fuck!”

I sat next to him on the couch and racked my brain for something to say. He was clearly far from sober, and he wasn’t making much sense, but something was going on, and by the amount of whiskey he’d gone through in less than twelve hours, it was something big.

“We don’t have any clue what you’re trying to say,” Alex said kindly.

I almost laughed. Leave it to Alex to just jump right in.

Trevor bent his head and used the bottom of his flannel to wipe off his face, then he lifted it back up again and pointed to the papers on the table.

“I went through Henry’s will,” he said clearly. “Most of the shit is not a big deal. He gave his stake in the company to me—I outrank you both now—and he gave his surfboard to Keller. Shit like that.”

“Christ, you’re going to be such a pain in the ass to work with,” I complained, causing Trev to give me a small smile.

“I’ll go easy on ya,” he promised drily.

“So what’s going on?” Alex cut in. “Why are you drowning your sorrows in whiskey? You don’t even like the shit.”

“He left all money in his accounts and his death benefits to a woman named Morgan Riley.”

“Who the fuck is Morgan Riley?” I blurted, glancing at Alex.

“The mother of his kid, apparently,” Trev growled, picking up the glass full of whiskey and downing half of it.

“Henry had a kid?” Alex shouted, his face screwed up in confusion.

“What the ever-loving fuck?” I muttered, my mind racing.

I couldn’t remember Henry ever talking about a woman sticking around longer than a night, much less one he’d gotten pregnant. He’d never said a word, never hinted or given any kind of clue.

“Yeah, no shit,” Trevor said, setting the whiskey back down. “He planned all his shit out—made sure that I got the paperwork so I could tell our mom that her youngest was a piece of shit who abandoned his daughter. He even left me a fucking letter.”