Page 23 of Last Resort

Anticipation of it is what led me to the club last night and the Johnnie Walkers at the bar.

Now there is nowhere to run. No woman to get lost in. No alcohol to numb its ugliness.

They want a fight? I’ll give it to them.

I shrug nonchalantly. “We all grieve in different ways.”

“Is that what you call this?” Ledger snorts, and all I can do short of walking out of here is grit my teeth. I shake my head and try to fight the anger mixed with pain raging through me. “Because I call it doing exactly what you’ve always done—fucking off. The difference? Dad’s no longer here to protect you from the consequences.”

“Is that why I was told I had to be here, or else? So you can put me in my place and assert some kind of power over me?” I lift a middle finger at them.

“You were told to be here because it’s time for you to do your goddamn job.”

“According to you, my job is fucking random women and sullying the Sharpe name. Is that what we’re aiming for here? Because if that’s the case, I’m all in.”

“Typical.” He shakes his head, and I swear to God it’s déjà vu. He could be our father standing there with the high demands and lack of empathy for others. But there will be no phone call later telling me he understands and still loves me. Like Dad did. There will simply be more of the empty silence edged in resentment. God, I miss him.

“When did you start becoming our father?”

“When he died and you never stepped up to the plate to fulfill your duties.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” I say, hands out to my sides, the disappointment I was trying to drink away last night is now staring me down through my brothers’ eyes.

“Ah. Yes,” Ledger says. “It’s amazing how you’ll drag your ass in here when threatened with a no-confidence vote from the board.”

“What did you say?”

“You heard me.”

I shove up out of my chair and force myself to walk to the windows instead of throw the punch I so desperately want to throw. A rage I never had before our dad died eats at me in a way I can’t explain.

They want to vote me out?

My brothers, my blood, want me gone?

Hurt suffocates me, but I shove it behind a mask of zero fucks. Isn’t that what I’ve always done? Move, dodge, weave, when shit gets too real?

Especially with my dad. Even with my brothers.

“Actually, I didn’t hear you.” My fists clench and my mind buzzes. “You want the board to vote me out?”

“You made your bed, brother. It’s up to you if you want to lie in it or prove you deserve the position.”

“So that’s what this is all about, then?” I give a disbelieving shake of my head. “All that power is going to your head, Ledger.”

“Maybe if you were around more, you’d know what the actual fuck was going on,” Ledger states.

“Hey, Ledge?” I lean forward, lower my voice, and taunt him. “Sounds to me like you’re the one who needs to use the suite. To get fucked. Maybe if you blow off some steam, dominate in the bedroom a little, it’ll ease your need to—”

“This isn’t a joke,” he bellows, slamming his hand on the table.

“And neither is you threatening to kick me out of a company my goddamn name is on.”

“Our name, Callahan. Not just yours.” Ford glances over to Ledger and then back to me. “We’ve been busting our asses for the past six months trying to keep all the plates spinning and fill the void Dad left. And you? You’ve been nowhere to be found. You walked away from jobs half done, from deals half made. You fucking vanished to go have a pity party. Well guess what? He was our dad too, but we didn’t get to leave. We didn’t get to walk away from the responsibility that is paying your paycheck. So you’re goddamn right we’re pissed. You sit on your ass, collecting the same salary we do. We’re sick of it. You’re either part of this company and pulling your weight or you’re out.”

I hate that they have a valid point. I did leave. But . . . I also hate their logic. And what it means.

“So, pulling my weight to you means sending me to the failing resort and expecting me to turn it around? Ignoring that it’s a shitty economy and that the resort needs a major overhaul?” Fuck. “You’re setting me up to fail.” How did we get to this point?