Luckily for him, Bruno wasn’t a bad sort—even if he was a damned Mercer. He let Caleb borrow his phone, and that was why, less than twenty minutes later, his brother, glowering behind the wheel of his truck, pulled into the empty lot of the club.
Lowering his window, Constantine snapped, “Get in.”
To Caleb’s surprise, his brother leaned over and opened the passenger door.
“Holy shit, I get to ride in the truck.”
His brother didn’t crack a smile. “Only because Princess is sleeping in my jacket.”
“Thank God because I was wondering what that bulge was in your lap.”
His brother didn’t say a word as he drove, but Caleb, for some reason, felt a need to spill. “So it turns out I’ve got a kid.”
The truck swerved. “What?”
“His name is Luke. He’s mine and Renny’s.”
The sudden forward momentum meant Caleb braced himself on the dash as the truck slammed to a stop.
“Get out of the truck,” his brother ordered.
“Why would I do that?” Caleb asked.
“Why? Do you seriously have to ask? You know, I can handle the fact that you ditched me and Ma. I get it. I was almost eighteen. It wasn’t like I needed you around. But to leave Renny and your kid?” Constantine banged his hands off his steering wheel. “I don’t fucking know who you are. But you are not my brother. The brother I knew would never have abandoned his kid.” Constantine shoved at him, and it was only the fact that the door was shut that Caleb didn’t end up sprawled on the gravelly shoulder. As it was, Con’s blow to his arm rocked the truck.
“Before you fucking hang me out to dry, I didn’t know.”
His brother’s gaze narrowed. “What do you mean you didn’t know? Didn’t she tell you?”
Looking his brother in the eye as he admitted his fault proved impossible. “She tried to let me know. She sent letters. I just never read them.”
“Just like you never read our letters, wrote back, or called us. You are such a fucking dick. Get out.”
Couldn’t argue that point. When Caleb would have opened the door, his brother growled, “Close the goddamned door.” Constantine threw the truck into gear and, with a spin of the tires on the loose rock, drove them back onto the road. They drove for about a mile in silence before his brother said, “So I’m an uncle. To Luke.”
“You’ve met him?” Caleb asked, suddenly thirsty to know more about his son.
“More like seen him. Once you left, Renny did for a while, too. I guess so that people wouldn’t know she was pregnant.”
“Kind of hard to hide, given she came back with a kid.”
“Except she didn’t come back right away. She’s only been back in town about six months or so. I guess she felt like she had to on account of her dad. He caught some kind of disease or something, and she returned to care for him.”
“Renny never told anyone he was mine?”
“No.”
He couldn’t help a pang at the knowledge she didn’t want people to know Luke was his son.
But I can’t really blame her, given she thought I didn’t want him.
His brother slammed the wheel of his truck. “Dammit, I can’t believe Renny never told me or Ma the baby was yours. We would have helped her if we’d known.”
“As would I.” Caleb slumped in his seat. “I’ve so royally fucked up my life.”
“Yeah, you have.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“You didn’t coddle me growing up, and I am not going to coddle you. You made mistakes. Suck it up, buttercup.”
“You do realize I am supposed to be the older brother?”
“Then act like one. Or at least stop with this fucking woe-is-me routine. Now that the truth is out, you can be a father to a little boy.”
A father…
A wave of vertigo gripped Caleb, and he grasped the console of the truck, lest he face plant into it. “Shit, Con, I can’t be a dad. I don’t know how. Look at me. I’m a bloody mess.”
“You’re just like every other soldier who’s come home after seeing and experiencing bad stuff. You need time to adjust. You’re going to have to learn to adapt. And you need to stop feeling sorry for yourself and accept that shit has happened. Move on, bro. Start anew.”
“But I don’t know how.” Even admitting the weakness made him want to cringe. His croc certainly thrashed in its hidden box, rolling and rolling, ashamed that he feared the fight.
“None of us do, which is why we wing it and we make mistakes. That’s life, and she’s a bitch.” An assertion punctuated by a tiny growl within Constantine’s coat.
“Easy to say, but what should I do?” For the first time in years, Caleb didn’t have clear orders. He had to make the decisions. What if he made the wrong ones?
“First off, ask yourself what you want to achieve.”
“What do you mean?”
Constantine took his gaze off the road for a minute to fix him with a stare. “What do you want to happen here? Set yourself a goal.”
“You mean I should establish a mission objective.”
“Wow, the military really did brainwash you. Okay, grunt”—Con flashed him a smile— “here’s your mission. Assimilate into life at Bitten Point. Within that scope, you are to become involved with your son.”