Sparks (13 page)

“It’s okay. You just startled me.” Wilbur reached for him.

“It isn’t!” Bernie shook his head, pounding his fist on the ground.

Wilbur slid down on the floor next to him, rocking him. Bernie held him.

“Bernie?” Tomas’s voice rumbled down the hall.

“I’m… okay,” he replied.

Glancing at Wilbur, he hugged him tight. Wilbur rubbed his back.

“Triumvirate,” Bernie whispered in his ear.

Wilbur glanced at him, startled, his hand stopping. “You remember that?”

“Of course. Do you still have it?”

Wilbur shrugged out of his jacket and pulled up his shirt. Bernie raised a shaking hand and traced the tattoo identical to his own. It was the last thing the three of them had done together before Wilbur left. Wilbur lowered his shirt.

“Where have you been? What have you been doing? Why did you come to find me?”

“I want you to have the money, Bernie.” Wilbur was insistent.

“No. I don’t need repayment for helping my brother out.”

“Think of it as a payment to you for being the first investor in a brand.”

“What brand?”

“Me.”

“You always like to make things more complicated than they need to be. Just give me a straight answer to my questions,” Bernie grumbled.

“I have answered you.” Wilbur sounded affronted.

“You haven’t.”

“What haven’t I answered?”

Bernie ticked them off. “How’d you get so much money? Where have you been? What have you been doing? Why did you come to find me?”

Wilbur answered ticking them off. “As I said: music, Britain, music.” He paused, guilt filling his face. “I didn’t know you weren’t being taken care of. I’m sorry for that.”

“What are you talking about?” Bernie frowned.

“After my first platinum album, I had my solicitors contact
them
,” Wilbur paused, lowering his head. “I wanted to set up a payment to them, to take care of you and Dillard. I didn’t want you all to ever want for anything. I knew money wouldn’t make up for love, but it’s all I could offer. I couldn’t come back. Couldn’t face
them,
even for you or Dillard. So I set it up that they would get money every month to give to you and Dillard to take care of you both. I set it up, then just left it, not wanting to know anything else.” Wilbur raised furious eyes. “It wasn’t until about three months ago that I got a letter sent to my personal address. My security went crazy, since no one is supposed to know where I live. Hell, since I’ve retired, I’m not in the news that much anymore.” Wilbur gripped his hands. “Until that letter, I didn’t know that they hadn’t been doing what I said, that they had used the money for themselves and not you or Dillard. Where is Dillard? The report had no info on him. Couldn’t find him at all.”

Bernie tried to process what he’d said. “You gave our
parents
money for me and Dillard?”

“Yes,” Wilbur whispered.

Bernie closed his eyes and gulped. When he thought he could speak, he opened his eyes and looked at Wilbur’s worried gaze. He smiled softly.

“I know you did it for us. But Dillard left the year after you did. He didn’t even tell me he was going. He was just gone. I don’t know where he is.”

Wilbur’s face went determined. “We’ll find him. I’ll get my investigators on it.”

“Okay.” Bernie’s throat was tight.

“Do you still play the piano?” Wilbur sounded wistful.

“Not for a long time. You were always more into music than we were,” Bernie said.

“I’d like to hear you play the piano, and Dillard on the sax.”

“You on the guitar. Is that the same one?” Bernie pointed to the case.

“Yeah. I have lots of them, but this is still my favorite.” Wilbur patted the closed case.

Bernie smiled. He and Dillard had worked odd jobs and pooled their allowance for a year to get the guitar for Wilbur. Bernie could still remember his face when they had given it to him. The smile faded as other thoughts filled him, of their standing up to stop it from being destroyed. Bernie pushed the thoughts away.

“I’ve never heard of you. What music do you play?”

“Of course you haven’t. I bet you still only listen to classical.” Wilbur smirked.

“I’ll have you know I’ve heard live music. There’s this restaurant, Bacchus Sloan, that has various bands. And they have concerts in the park.”

“What were the names of some of the songs?” Wilbur still had the smirk.

“I don’t know. But it was good. So, what’s your kind of music?” Bernie butted his shoulder against Wilbur’s.

“Ever heard of TrebleBur?”

“No. Isn’t Bur your name now?” Bernie asked.

“Yeah, I go by that. TrebleBur was the name of my band. I’m retired.”

“At twenty-four?” Bernie asked in shock.

“Yeah. Not touring or performing that much anymore. Still write music now and then.” Wilbur shrugged.

“I’m glad you followed your dream into music.”

“I want you to sign the papers and take the money.”

“I don’t need the money. Hell, I don’t even know what to do with that kind of money.” Bernie shook his head.

“My financial advisors are ready to help you make more money. Take this from me, please. I couldn’t be there to take—”

Bernie cut him off. “It wasn’t for you to take.”

“I know. But with me and Dillard gone, it was just you with them.”

“It wasn’t so bad.” Bernie shrugged.

Wilbur gave him a look that said he didn’t believe him.

“It could have been better,” Bernie admitted.

“I know. Sign the paper for me,” Wilbur pleaded.

“You don’t need to give me your wealth out of guilt.”

Wilbur laughed, saying, “This isn’t even a drop in the bucket of my net worth. I’m not being self-sacrificing and giving it all to you. It is as I said. You were the first investor in Bur. So take the money and kiss me good night, and go snuggle with your man. I need to get to my hotel.”

Bernie frowned, chewing on his lip. Wilbur held out a pen, waving it in his face. Bur’s face had the same obstinate one from their childhood.

“If I don’t sign, what are you going to do?”

“Put it in a trust for you until you do,” Wilbur said.

“Stubborn prick.”

“Bullheaded ass,” Wilbur countered.

Bernie chuckled. “Fine. Give me that.” He signed the papers and shoved them at him.

“Good. A portion will be deposited to your account, and the rest, the financial advisors will invest. They’ll contact you.” Wilbur put the papers into his pocket and stood.

Bernie stood with him. “How long are you going to be in town?” He didn’t want to lose touch with him.

“Until my house is built.” Wilbur’s lips curved in a wicked twist.

“In England?”

“Nope, in Mapson. Bought a nice piece of ranch land. Having it renovated and a new house built. Getting a few horses. If you can’t ride, I can teach you.” Wilbur was matter-of-fact.

“You’re staying in Mapson?”

“Yes, I am. I want us to be brothers again, and to find Dillard so we can be the triumvirate again.” Wilbur put his hand over his heart on his tattoo.

Bernie put his hand over Wilbur’s. He shifted his hold and pulled Wilbur into his body.

“I’m not losing my brother again.” Wilbur hugged him fiercely.

Bernie cleared his throat. “And you’re not staying in a hotel. You’ll stay with me.”

“Will your partner be okay with that?” Wilbur asked.

“This is my condo. Well, I am renting it, sort of, from my friend Robert. You’ll meet him.”

“You can just buy it from him now. Hell, buy a bigger place,” Wilbur pointed out.

Bernie blinked, realizing he was right. He shook his head. “Not thinking of that now. Let me process all this change first. Where is your stuff?”

“At the hotel. I can go get it in the morning, if you’re sure you want me to stay.”

“I am. Let me show you the room.” Bernie led him to the other side of the living room and down the hall.

He passed his lab and opened the spare room. Turning, he pulled some linens out of the closet and went to make the bed. Wilbur helped. Once done, they stood.

“Was that a lab I saw? In the report, they said you were still into science.” Wilbur watched him.

“Yeah. Enjoy doing it.” Bernie shrugged.

“You pursued your passion too. I wonder if Dillard did?”

“We’ll find him.” Bernie patted him on the shoulder.

“Do you think he’s dead? Maybe that’s why there’s no trace of him.” Wilbur gripped Bernie’s hand, leaning his head on his chest.

Bernie cupped the back of his head. “We would have felt it. No matter what, we’ll find him.”

“Okay.” Wilbur nodded and stepped back.

“Do you need some clothes to sleep in?”

“Nah.” Wilbur’s lip lifted in a half smile.

“Okay. I’ll give you something to wear in the morning,” Bernie said, turning to the door.

“I missed you, Bernard. I’m glad I came,” Wilbur said.

Bernie paused in the doorway and looked back at his brother. He stood slightly hunched, his arm around his waist.

“Missed you, Wilbur. Welcome home, brother,” Bernie said.

“Thanks. ’Night.”

“’Night,” Bernie replied.

He closed the door and hurried down the hall into the living room, then rushed to the kitchen and onto the back patio. Gripping the rail, he inhaled deeply, fighting nausea.

They took money to take care of me.

The thought vibrated in his head.

“No wonder they moved us to a bigger house,” Bernie whispered.

He remembered not too long after Wilbur left, they had moved. The house was bigger, but they had given him the smallest room off the kitchen. It was a maid’s quarters. The bigger house hadn’t meant anything. Just more things to taunt him with. Swallowing thickly, he closed his eyes. A hand touched his back. Startled, he jumped, then relaxed as he recognized Tomas’s scent. Turning, he buried his face against Tomas. Tomas held him. Bernie shuddered, swallowing again.

“Come to bed, Bernie,” Tomas said.

“How’d you know I was out here?”

“Your brother knocked on the bedroom door and told me he was moving in. And that you needed me.” Tomas sounded disgruntled.

“Interfering little shit,” Bernie said wearily.

“You’re tired. Come to bed.”

“Not yet. I can’t… won’t… bring them into our bed. I need to tell you why I’m so leery around your parents.” Bernie swallowed.

“You don’t have to do this tonight,” Tomas insisted.

“I want to get this out now. I should have told you before.”

“Whatever you think is best. But I think it can wait,” Tomas grumbled.

Bernie was grateful for his attitude. It stabilized him. The one thing he could count on was Tomas. Shocked, Bernie drew back and stared at him. Tomas frowned.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason at all.” Bernie smiled widely.

Tomas was leery. “I’m not sure if I like that smile.”

“It will be all good.” Bernie replied. He took a breath, then started. “I’ve noticed that you are close to your family. Your parents would do anything to protect you, wouldn’t they?”

“Yes. Family is important.” That unshakable surety was in his tone.

Bernie pulled away from him and looked out at the backyard. “Not how we grew up. In our house, it was all about my parents. From the time I was able to understand, I was taught my place. We all were taught our place. That we were there at the benevolence of our parents, and we better never forget it. Which we never did. Not that it mattered.”

“You all were abused.” It wasn’t a question.

“That seems such a pretty word for what they did to us. Dad was quick with his fist. He’d punch you so quick that the pain wouldn’t register until he left the room. Him, I could deal with. It was just vicious. It was her that I feared. She’d feed you and cuddle you, speaking so kindly. Then she’d turn on you. She liked to throw things. I used to be good at ducking what she threw. But even that, she would blame you if you moved. Blame you for making her break whatever. Vase, chairs, knives, shoes, appliances. She’d justify it to Dad, and then he’d punish you for it. A broken finger here, shattered legs, wrenched shoulder. It didn’t matter. They just wanted to inflict pain.” Bernie bit his lip.

Tomas touched his back. He flinched. Tomas withdrew. Bernie turned and caught his arm.

“Sorry. You just startled me.” He clutched Tomas’s hand, pulling him in to him.

Tomas hugged him fiercely. “Didn’t you tell someone?”

“Olivia tried to tell once. She was our protector—the main punching bag. The teacher mentioned it laughingly to them that Olivia was making up tales. She had no idea what she had done. I felt it with them squeezing my hand. I feared for Olivia, but was too little to do anything. When we got home… God, I thought they would kill Olivia for it. It’s amazing how much blood a body can lose and survive. After that, we didn’t dare breathe a word. We’d learned the lesson not to. They were good at putting on a face of being attentive parents. And we were just a set of kids.”