“She just gave you her address? What if you were a trained fucking killer?” Lincoln hissed, and Romeo rolled his eyes.
“I am a boxer, but I’ve yet to kill anyone.”
“How am I supposed to know if you’re really who you say you are?”
“Our father’s birthday is on Christmas. He was born in Clearance, Iowa. He and your mom dated in high school, and she got pregnant after they graduated. The story goes that he ran off shortly after you were born. Your mother didn’t put his name on the birth certificate, and you took her last name.”
“What are you here for, money? Did my father send you?”
“Fuck you. I don’t need your money. I guess you’re as big of an asshole as the media has made you out to be.” He stalked down the walkway.
“Lincoln. This is most likely your brother. He isn’t the one who left you. He just found out about you,” I said as I squeezed his hand.
“Fuck,” he said under his breath. “Romeo. Hold up.”
Romeo turned around, not making any effort to hide his annoyance. “You beckoned, your highness?”
They had a similar dry sense of humor, no doubt about it.
“Why are you coming around now?” Lincoln asked.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and glanced away before looking back in our direction. “I didn’t know about you, dude. At least not beyond being a famous football player. He never told me, but all the skeletons came out of the closet after he passed away a few weeks ago.”
My chest ached at his words because he was hurting as much as Lincoln was. Just for different reasons.
“He’s dead?”
“He is. Had a heart attack ringside at my last fight. He was my coach.” His teeth sank into his bottom lip, and it was impossible to miss the emotions that were clearly still fresh and raw.
“And he sent you a message from the grave?” Lincoln asked, and I glared at him for being so cold about it.
He had his reasons for being angry, but Romeo hadn’t done anything wrong.
“No, dickhead. He’s not sending me messages from the grave. My grandmother told me at his funeral that you were his biggest regret. And then my mom did some digging because apparently, he’d never told her either. She found a box he’d hidden in their closet with a copy of your birth certificate, a lock of your hair, and a few baby photos. He had a ton of newspaper clippings from all your games over the years. We found a letter that he wrote to you in the box, and I guess I thought I should bring it to you.”
Lincoln just stared as if he were processing the information.
“Where do you live? Did you travel far to get here?” Lincoln asked.
“I drove from Magnolia Falls.” He looked toward the street, and I followed his gaze to the old motorcycle a few feet in front of where Lincoln had parked.
“That’s like an eight-hour drive,” I said. “You must be exhausted.”
“I got an early start this morning,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m fine.”
“Where are you staying?” Lincoln asked.
“I’ll find a motel, or I’ll head back tonight. I’m not worried about it.” Romeo Knight was pretty good at masking his emotions, that much was clear. His cool demeanor was similar to his brother’s.
“Does your mom know that you’re here?”
He chuckled. “I’m twenty-one years old. I hardly need to tell my mother where I’m going. But Tia knows.”
“Who’s Tia?” Lincoln pressed.
“My sister. Technically, I guess she’s our sister. She’s eighteen. She’s been sending you messages to your social media accounts, as well. I decided to just hop on my bike and come find Brinkley Reynolds and see if she’d tell me where I could find you. Thought you at least deserved the letter he’d written you.”
Lincoln ran a hand down his face and glanced over at me.
“Well, you drove all this way. You’ve got to be starving. You want to come inside?”
Whether he liked it or not.
They were family.
twenty-four
Lincoln
We’d spent the last hour talking about football and boxing, and I was fairly certain the dude was telling the truth. He didn’t want anything from me, other than to meet me and deliver this fucking letter.
I’d shot a text to my mom, and she’d verified that the information he’d shared about my father was true, and she said last she’d heard from him, he was living in Magnolia Falls with his wife and two kids.
So, I had a fucking brother and sister.
And the dude was kind of a cool cat, and we definitely shared the same distaste when it came to meeting new people.
But Brinkley had asked him no less than four thousand intrusive fucking questions, and he’d answered every single one of them.
I could see that he was a straight shooter, and he didn’t appear to be a bullshitter.
He’d shared that his father, a.k.a. my sperm donor, had battled with drugs and alcohol when Romeo and Tia were young, but he’d turned his life around over a decade ago, minus a few falls off the wagon. His mom was a strong woman who’d stuck by the man through all the ups and downs. They’d struggled financially, and his father had stepped up these last few years. He’d worked at a boxing gym for as long as he could remember, and the man had eventually become a partner in the place. Romeo basically grew up at the gym, as they didn’t have much money, and fighting became a way he could make some side money. He and his father had bonded over the sport over the years, and he was his coach when Romeo decided to take his career to the next level.
He’d won a big fight a few months ago against a dude who’d been a pro for a long time, and the win had bumped him to a professional boxer status. He hadn’t fought again since his last fight when his father had dropped to the ground during the third round, and he didn’t know if he’d ever fight again.
“I’m sure it was very traumatic to witness that,” Brinkley said as she refilled our glasses of sun tea and set out some more grapes, crackers, and cheese.
“It’s fine. Shit happens. Right now, I’m running the gym. Doing what I can to keep the lights on. My dad’s partner, Rocco, is in his early eighties, so he’s not there all that often.”
He and I were devouring the platter of snacks.
“I see we both have healthy appetites,” I said, changing the subject because this was a lot to unpack.
“Yeah. My mom complains about how much I eat. But spending all that time in the gym will get your appetite going. I guess I don’t need to tell you that.”
“Well, how about we grab some food and head back to my place? There’s more room there.”
Brinkley smiled before reaching for her glass.
“You don’t need to feed me, dude.”
“Take it easy. It’s a meal. And you came a long way.” I scrubbed a hand down my face. “I’m not ready to take the letter just yet. So how about you do me a solid and come back to my house and spend the night there so my girl can continue grilling you? We can eat some good food, and I’ll think about reading the fucking letter.”
He smirked. “I can do that.”
“Do you like ribs?” she asked him. “My brother has a restaurant in town, and we can swing by and grab dinner.”