My mom was a down to earth, Ireland native who came to the United States in search of the nonexistent American Dream. What she got instead was Connor Loche, a nose-in-the-air asshole with an inability to keep his dick in his pants. Despite already being married to Nathan’s mom, Connor met my mom at the post office and couldn’t resist a new-to-Postings woman who didn’t know who he was just yet. He laid on the charm, the kindness, the promises of taking her away from her lower-class life, but those promises all went up in smoke when my mom discovered that not only was Connor Loche married, but he also had several mistresses all across Maine, some even in other states.
She ended things with him immediately, but not before she got knocked-up. Nine months later, I was born. My mom did the right thing and told Connor about his illegitimate son, but he’d just had a kid of his own with his wife and couldn’t be bothered. Why he came around after ten years, looking to drag me into his high-brow lifestyle, I never understood, but I barely made it a year. I wasn’t an ascots-and-fencing kind of guy, and when I went back to my mom to celebrate Christmas a year later, I refused to return to South Postings. Connor tried to muscle a custody order, but when my mom revealed that she had evidence of Connor’s continued affairs, he backed off. So ended the disgusting chapter of my life that involved the Loches.
Or so I thought.
Here I was again, four years later, looking my mini-Connor of a brother in the face, feeling something between bad that he couldn’t escape too and angry that he would dare approach me when all I wanted was to leave him in my past.
“Are we done here?” I asked. “I’ve had just about enough of looking at your dumb fucking face.”
“No,” Nathan said. “I have a proposition for you.”
The scoff I let out was so loud it echoed off the empty classroom walls. “A proposition for me? Go ahead, rich boy. Tell me what you have to offer me that I’d even be remotely interested in.”
“A way up,” Nathan replied.
“A way up?” I repeated.
“Yeah.” He fanned out his arms, mocking my earlier action. “Join The Royal Court. Serve by my side as my brother.”
“Serve?” I didn’t know whether to be amused or pissed.
Here I was, a man who had been to an actual prison with actual criminals, and my brother was, walking around like a fucking Hollister gangster. He wanted me to serve at his side? The few times I started to say something, I stopped, not quite sure of how to respond to such a request. It felt disgusting just to be offered.
“If you need time to think about it, that’s fine,” Nathan said.
I shook my head. “The only thing I need time to decide is whether I’m gonna knock your fucking lights out with my fists, or just piledrive you and be done with it.” Flashing the middle finger on my right hand never felt so good. “You can take your little royal court”—I whined the words—“and shove it up your rich, entitled ass.”
A quick moment of fear or maybe even pain flashed across Nathan’s face before it went back to his scowl. “You’re gonna regret that.”
“I’ll try to mask my concern,” I responded flatly. “Come near me, and you’ll see exactly what I learned while you were out here, playing fake-president with your little friends.”
Nathan nodded at the door, and a few seconds later, it opened. Students started to filter into the room. They moved in a rush because the class had already begun, and when everyone finally settled down into their seats, I could see that both Nathan and Nikita were gone.
“Please take a seat,” the teacher said, but her voice was weak, and she was shaking as she said it.
I stormed to an open desk near the back of the classroom and threw myself down into it with rage boiling in my blood. It was because everyone was running around like he was the king of the goddamn world that Nathan believed he was some big, important person. It would be no skin off my back to teach him that he was actually relatively small in the grand scheme of things, but after everything my mom and Cherri had already been through, I wanted to keep my head down and my nose clean.
That didn’t mean Nathan wouldn’t get his ass kicked if he made the first move. With him snaking around, and on the heels of his less-than-frightening threat, I’d have to keep my wits about myself even more than I was already planning on. Staying away from Nathan and, by extension, my dad was the ideal option. Even if all he could do was keep me in an unpopular, lowly position in the school, as long as Cherri knew that was bullshit, the rest didn’t matter to me.
Class was monotonous and boring. I couldn’t help but compare the bland teacher to the guys who were my teachers behind bars. In juvie, I had something closer to actual teachers, but even they were hardened because it took a certain breed to teach a group of kids who were on the verge of giving up on life, some who already had. They weren’t so bad, but when I got to the adult prison, my education didn’t matter. The single time I’d inquired about it got my ass kicked for being a nerd, and I pretty much let it go after that.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on the perspective, I caught the eye of one Harlan “Venom” Williams, a stacked guy with dark brown skin and tattoos all over his face. Half the prison was terrified of him. I never knew why he took an interest in me, but he had the guys
