Page 113 of Broken Brothers

We both had a laugh at that. Had to admit, we could both be stubborn, stupid assholes at times.Just a little less stupid and a little less of an asshole with age.

The stubborn part, though? That is never changing.

“Just wear the wire as a favor to me,” I said. “I’ll listen in, I’ll transcribe what is said, and I’ll leave it at that. I’m not going to confront Edwin with the recording, at least not directly. Just think of it as a chance for me to get some information. OK?”

Nothing I said would make Morgan comfortable with the idea. I was beginning to think it wasn’t just that Edwin was his father; I think it had something to do with the idea that so much of who Morgan was and what he stood for came from his father. In that regard, he wasn’t just fighting the present incarnation of his father, but everything within him that resembled his dad.

I had some sympathy for him when I saw it through that lens.

Some.

Not much.

“You get me a goddamn wire and dress me up like a narc, I’ll wear one,” Morgan said. “But I’m not putting myself in a position to get one, no matter how much you beg. I do agree, though, that regardless, going to see Dad for a meeting might provide some temporary relief.”

“And,” I added. “You make sure that if you get anything out of him, you get me some relief too. I don’t want to haveyou completely off the hook but have me being harassed by his goons.”

“I know,” he said. “I’ll make sure of it. You’re family, remember?”

That brought a faint smile to my face, even if it made things weird. Could Morgan be family to both me and his father?

I had never really envied Morgan, especially since he never quite seemed to get things the way I got them, but I really didn’t envy him now. He was nothing more than a man on a bridge, with two people pulling his arms apart and him trying to pull those two people together.

Something would break. It was just a matter of what would go first.

47

As the days passed, I didn’t mention the wire issue again. I hadn’t let it die, but I could see how much it had affected Morgan, and I had no interest in revisiting that when it was so fresh. Better, I thought, to let Morgan forget about it or at least let the intensity of the emotion settle down and then bring it up when he had a meeting scheduled with his father.

That didn’t mean I didn’t do my due diligence, however. And the source of my help came from a place that… well, I was finding myself saying “I never would have expected” so much that I guess I had to start saying I really did expect it to come from somewhere nearby but unexpected, strange as it was.

“So you’re telling me your uncle can really do it?” I said as I sat on the couch, eating a slice of pizza.

“You owe me so much,” Claire said as she popped open a bottle of champagne and poured me a glass. “I don’t know what sort of games you’re getting into, but it better not involved you getting killed.”

“Not yet,” I said with a morbid, defiant grin on my face, one that Claire didn’t react especially well too. “Oh, don’t worryabout it. We just have some resentful asshole in my adoptive father that’s upset we got good deals and he didn’t.”

I was pretty sure Claire already knew the details of my relationship with Edwin Hunt and others, but even if she didn’t, it didn’t much matter. As weird as it was, the lack of emotional commitment made it much easier to tell me these kinds of things. I didn’t have to worry about her fucking me over in a few weeks time like Layla had—and if she did, the detachment would be that much easier.

In theory.

“I’m not going to die,” I said with an eyeroll. “If things truly get fucking crazy, if it’s the kind of thing where I fear for my life, I’ll let you know where I’m going off-grid.”

“You’re crazy,” she said. “You and Morgan both are the same way. You throw yourselves into the fire that’s in front of you without wondering if it will burn.”

“Ahh, but there’s always something on the other side of the fire. We’re not stupid, you know.”

“No, but stubborn as a mule should be stubborn as a Hunt.”

That I could not argue, not in the slightest.

What I couldn’t also argue, however, was that things seemed strangely calm for the time being, which either meant shit was about to hit the fan or Edwin had grown tired of what he had sought to make happen. The latter seemed far too unlikely, but I didn’t get the ominous sense things were going to be destroyed, either. It just seemed… like I had a down period and I had to appreciate it.

And what better way than by celebrating Claire’s newest hire, a young 24-year old female graduate from Columbia as one of her programmers. It benefited her, it increased the value of our company, and it gave Claire an employee that we hoped was less likely to be persuaded by fake gossip and false news.

“Well, let’s not celebrate the crazy tonight, let’s celebrate the stable,” I said, holding my glass up to Claire, who clinked hers with mine. “To the improved stability of Rising Sun, may you never set.”

“Oh Jesus,” Claire said as she took a sip. “Did you have that one in your tool belt for a while?”