Bound

Chapter 47: A Secret

Emily

By the time we get to our destination, I'm both pissed enough at Blake and tipsy enough to exit the vehicle for the promise of more alcohol and a vague 'I'll tell you all I know,' from Sienna.
The Grill is less of a dining establishment and more of a rich-folk bar that sells food to hide the fact that it's a bar. Which is exactly why I've never been here. But Sienna has begged me to come for a girls night at her favorite-and I use the term loosely-restaurant for years. Since she was eighteen, she's gloated about being able to pay enough to order drinks without showing any identification.
Although it isn't under the best circumstances, she has something to tell me and for the first time in my life, I think I actually need a drink. So, I'm here.
Loud chatter over country music sounds as we enter the place. The building is an open floor plan with a few square tables placed far enough apart for people to get up and dance. Golden lights shine down dimly and just highlight the wooden floors. The bar is at the far corner of the room, where a few people are seated with various drinks. A pleasant woodsy scent with an accent of fresh citrus overtakes my senses when Sienna drags me towards the bar.
"Please don't be mad at me," she says as we sit on two metal, red-seated barstools next to three middle-aged women. "I didn't have time to tell you what Charles told me in the car."
"What's going on, Sienna?" I ask in exasperation.
"Two shots, Frankie!" She hollers at a dark-haired young worker in a black shirt behind the bar.
"You got it, Si." He turns swiftly and slides two shot glasses between us, filling them before he continues pouring other drinks.
Sienna grabs her shot and tips it back. I follow her lead and do the same and we wipe our mouths in succession.
"Keep 'em comin'," she tells Frankie.
"Yeah, Frankie, we need another," I agree.
"You got it, darlin'," he says, offering me a friendly smile when he refills our tiny glasses.
Sienna moves in closer, the music making it almost too loud to hear each other. Her hand grips her glass nervously when she tells me, "Blake is keeping things from you."
"How do you know?" I almost shout. "I mean, besides the clear rivalry going on between him and Sebastian when I thought they were strangers. But what did Charles tell you?"
"Blake called Charles before we left for dinner tonight," she explains.
I don't remember him calling them before we left. 
"What did he say?" I pry.
"He said he didn't know about going to dinner. He told Charles that he knew Sebastian would be there and Charles seemed to know exactly what he was talking about. I surmised that they knew each other and that Blake doesn't like my brother for some reason. Which didn't surprise me, honestly. He's not much of a guys guy, you know?"
He must have called Charles when he went into the bathroom to change before we left. I try to fit the puzzle pieces as she explains, but I'm hanging on the edge of my seat and only getting more confused. "But how does he even know Sebastian? Did he know you too, before him and I met?"
"No!" she exclaims. "I swear, I didn't know him. I don't know him besides from you."
"Okay." I shake my head. "So how do they know each other?"
"Well, Blake was worried that Sebastian was going to tell you something..." she pauses like she's thinking about what the conversation entailed. "Like, some big secret, I don't know. But Charles said he should come anyway because he knew I wanted you to be there for me in case shit hit the fan with my parents again."
"What big secret?" I interrupt.
She downs her third shot and I follow suit. Once the burning subsides she answers, "I'm not sure. All I know is what Charles told me after they got off the phone. He asked about Sebastian. He basically asked me if my brother was a dick all while trying not to offend me. It was actually kind of sweet the way he danced around the question," she reminisces and I slap the table to get her back on track. "Right!" She continues, "I told him the truth. That my brother can be a dick but I didn't know what he was referring to. That's when he told me that Blake went to a rehabilitation center for teenagers when he was fifteen. That's when it clicked."
I slap the table again, this time because one of those puzzle pieces just fell into place. "So did Sebastian, after he got into that fight with Ollie!" I shout as if I just solved the worlds hardest murder mystery.
She nods and presses her lips into a firm line. "Apparently my asshole brother started a fight at the center. Somehow, Blake got involved trying to take up for Sebastian. But the other dude was after Blake the whole time. Sebastian caused that fight so Blake would get in trouble and it caused Blake to spend a long time there, more than he was originally supposed to. I thought it was a pitiful grudge to hold until I heard Blake say he lost his mom not long after getting out. So that, I can understand."
I frown in agreement and Sienna continues, "But I really have no clue what else Sebastian might know that Blake's not telling you. That, you'll have to figure out."
We tip back our forth shots and mine tingles all the way down my throat, but it doesn't burn like the last one did. And this time, the small, shiny glass feels wiggly when I sit it back down.
My eyes follow the incoming hand as Frankie comes in with another golden shot.
The light gleams off the glass when I tip it back once more. I lick my lips, tasting the remanence of the smoky liquid.
I want to be so angry right now, but the bubbling in my veins that I felt an hour ago has been replaced by a more steady, flowing sensation. It reminds me of the way the oceans' waves carry you through steady currents.
Although I don't feel angry, I know I am. He lied to me.
No, maybe he just didn't have time to tell me. Maybe it just never came up.
No. He's keeping secrets. I don't even know what else he's hiding yet.
How many lies has he told?
And just when I think he's the best man I've ever met, he turns out to be a liar like all the rest.
"Frankieee," I drag out. "Another, please!"
When I don't see Frankie's large hand pouring another drink, I glance up to see a broader man in an all black suit. He walks from one end of the bar to the other, his face turned away from me.
I look harder. Something about him is familiar. Maybe it's the way he walks but I can't place it.
His salt and pepper hair is trimmed short and receding slightly.
"Hey!" I shout to get his attention. Holding up the tiny glass, I demand, "Pour me another one!"
The man turns towards me and my eyes freeze on his golden name tag that reads 'Ricky' under the large word 'OWNER'.
"Better watch your pace, young lady." his grizzly voice replies coolly, shooting a sharp, jolting prick all the way down my spine.
When I look up and see his face, the dainty glass slips from my fingertips, landing on its' side on the counter and cascading down onto the hardwood floor where it shatters.
I suck in a quick breath. "Dad?"