Hello, Son

Hello, Son
Joseph 

Everyone sat there compiling information, the little we could find on the Dragon. The man who is supposed to be my father. The man who is supposed to be coming after me. All I could do was smell my beautiful Sandra. The true Sunshine she had brought into my life outshined all this darkness that keeps trying to snuff out the light. I wanted to just get up and to the room where she sat, probably drinking a whiskey from the top shelf, readying herself for a shower as hot as lava. I wanted to help her wash off the day and be inside of her until the morning. I resented the Dragon and his dramatic display for keeping me from that. “Smoke.” Seven walked into the office, “Sunshine has been safely left to get some sleep.” I nodded, thanking him, and looked back at the mug shot on the screen.  Why now? I tried to listen to all the information coming out around the room, and I couldn’t keep up. Marrying the love of my life in two days runs through my mind. I have never thought about marriage before. Not for power exchange, not for love. Not since Elizabeth wouldn’t follow me all those years ago in Ohio, not until Sandra looked up at me from that cell; I placed her in what seems like forever ago.  

Even as I sat among my brothers, the glow of monitors flickering over our determined faces, my mind was already drifting to the promise of a new chapter one that would begin not with fanfare but with the quiet certainty of a vow exchanged in the shadow of coming storms. The world outside continued its relentless spin, threats circling closer and alliances shifting like sand beneath our feet, but for the first time in years, the horizon seemed to hold more than battles and survival. Beneath the weight of strategy and suspicion, hope stubbornly threaded its way through my thoughts, fueled by the image of Sandra waiting for me upstairs—her presence, a compass I would follow through darkness and fire alike. Whatever the Dragon intended, whatever legacy he believed he was reclaiming, I would meet it not as a frightened son or a reluctant heir, but as the man I had chosen to become, shaped by love, loyalty, and the hard-won honor of brotherhood. As the hours melted into night, resolve settled in my bones, and I rose from my chair with the knowledge that, whatever tomorrow brought, I would face it strengthened by the woman who had become my sun and the family we had built from the ashes of the past. The quiet hum of purpose filled the room, every heartbeat echoing the silent promise that neither myth nor menace would drive us from the future we were forging together. 

Everyone stopped when I stood. I looked around the room. All the men who would die to protect, not only me now, but the woman they have all came to love with me. “I am going to bed. I suggest you all do the same.” They nodded and I walked out of the office. I headed to the bedroom. With every step I felt a release of tension. I knew when I got close to her, when I smelled her hair, felt her soft skin, I knew I would feel like nothing could get to us.  The room was dimly lit, warm, and smelled of soft perfume and whiskey. Had I frightened her so much with my wedding move up? She had left her glass on the bar, empty, but glistening with remnants of bourbon. I grabbed the glass and rinsed it before filling it back up for myself. I took sips of the whiskey as I walked into the bedroom. She laid there, like a beautiful little burrito wrapped in her blanket of peace. I felt a smile on my lips as I sat down and placed my glass on the bedside table. I wanted to feel her, I wanted to be inside her, but mostly I just wanted her to rest.  

I slid in the bed beside her, quietly, softly, running my finger along her cheek. “I love you, Sandra. I love you more than you could ever know.” I whispered to her as she stirred a little. I removed my hand quickly; I didn't want to wake her up. I stared at her, watching her sleep, like a stalker at night. She made little noises, smiled once or twice, and moved slightly every so often. I closed my eyes, placing my arm across her waist, and getting as close as I could to her. I needed to feel her warmth beside me. As I started to drift off to sleep, I saw a little boy. Excited, with a small BB gun in his hand. The man, tall and cold, stood behind him. The man watched the boy as he aimed his little gun at the cans, “You have to aim, boy.” He said, his voice gruff and without emotion. A bright light entered the room, pushing the tall man away, and wrapping the boy in an embrace. “It’s okay, Jo. I have you.” It was the boy’s mom. A small bell rang in the distance as the boy and his mother sat there, holding each other in comfort. The tall cold man causing both to feel shaken and alone. The bell got louder and louder, and the boy closed his eyes in fear.  “JOSEPH! Hey, baby, it's your phone...” Suddenly her voice woke me up. “Huh?” I said groggy and confused by my inner emotions, from this dream. “Your phone has been ringing.” She said, "Give me a small kiss on the cheek. She tilted her head slightly; aware something had shaken me. “Are you okay?” She asked, as I searched my pockets for his cell. “I am fine, darlin, just a dream.” I reached over and gave her a comforting squeeze on her arm. I didn't recognize the phone number on my phone. “What?” I said, giving my best Smoke threatening tone. The call was quiet for a few moments before I heard a voice. “Hello, Son.”  

My blood ran cold, the remnants of sleep vanishing as the reality of the voice on the other end sharpened like a blade. For a split second, the weight of the past I didn’t understand, and the threat in the present collided within me. A storm of new wounds and new dreads. I glanced at Sandra, her eyes searching for any sign of what was happening, but I shook my head, signaling her to stay quiet. “What do you want?” I pressed, my voice low, each word laced with warning. The silence stretched, heavy and foreboding, before the reply came—measured, almost taunting. “I want you to listen, boy. Everything you think you know is about to change. You have two days to prove yourself worthy of the legacy I left behind.” The call ended abruptly, leaving only the echo of that chilling ultimatum. I sat there, the phone clutched tightly in my hand, heart pounding with a cocktail of fear and fury. Sandra reached for me, her touch gentle but steady, and I let myself lean into her strength for a moment, drawing in a breath that tasted like her. Whatever storm was coming, we would withstand together. Two days? Was he listening in? Was he able to hack into my system? How would he know I moved the wedding up? No one did, not yet. “Did you tell anyone that I wanted to be married in two days?” I asked Sandra, who looked completely lost. She shook her head no. I called Jay, who answered before the second ring. “He called me. He gave us a time limit. Two days. He is inside this fortress, somehow Jay. We need to figure out how.” Jay agreed and we decided we would begin investigating in the morning. Sandra looked deflated. “What is it, darlin?” I asked, running my fingers through her hair. “Maybe we should wait, till all this is over...” She gestured around the room with her hands, “before we do this wedding.” I shook my head no, instantly. Grabbing her face in my hands so I could look directly into her eyes, I said, “Absolutely fucking not, Sandy. You will be my wife in two days.” I kissed her. Hard. Fuck this guy. He wasn't going to change anything. I would find him and kill him. I had two days.