Every Boy's Nightmare - PART ONE of Guns & Roses

Family Gathering: Darren

Three days later, and really, Christian should have had some kind of forewarning, like a little bell that dinged when shit in his life was about to change.

Caleb got the call while he was getting dressed that a Jeep had just pulled into sight, cruising at high speed their way, and he just laughed. “Yeah, that’s Darren. Open the gate for him. You’ll know he’s a Walker the second you see him.” He hung up and tossed the phone and Christian frowned at him curiously from the bed.

“Your little brother is here? I thought he was coming tomorrow?” He cursed inwardly and braced for some eighteen-year-old rendition of a young Drew or Caleb; just that slender, blonde, arrogant fucking douchebag he recalled so well. He had a vision in his head of that super slim, super cut body Caleb used to have at that age, that stupid youthful, hyper-aggressive mannerism, and just high rolling flashy slick-as-slime kind of veneer.

Caleb at eighteen had been awful, and hellish and truly was one of the meanest sons of bitches he had known, and Drew from what he knew? Had been about that, only so wild he had been getting mugshots from the day he turned eighteen on. The idea of someone like that, in this shared space?

He was already annoyed by this Darren Walker.

Caleb just smiled at that nervous annoyed tone. “Darren is eager to be out of Colorado, baby.” Was all he could say about it. “Come on get dressed. We’ll meet him in the Foyer.” He put on his watch, slipped on his Italian shoes, and snapped his fingers at Christian’s frowning expression. “Don’t be a bitch. Let's go.” He flashed a grin, and Chris just dropped his head back like it was already a trial, flipped the blanket aside, and scowled after the blonde when he just chuckled his way out the door to go meet his brother.

Chris refused to put on anything but jeans, and a black T-shirt. He slipped on his purple crocks, over white socks, brushed his hair, and that was all he was willing to do about it.

He was frankly, just not enthused, and wanted things to stay as they had been. He was getting along well with Drew, and with the staff, he and Caleb were solid, he hadn’t heard from Mikael, and life was just…easy.

No hard thinking, Caleb was handling his business and life, and he was getting some much-needed downtime. Call him crazy, but adding another person to the already busy house just seemed like it was asking for drama. Especially some punk ass who most assuredly would come in hot, probably try to bring a bunch of girls in, and party his ass off.

It was kind of his nightmare situation honestly, and he dragged himself out at his own damn pace and dragged his feet the whole way down the hall. He hated people in that age range anyway.

Well, that was a little harsh, but young straight, rich dudes with the last name of Walker in his experience, were such cunts. So with that less than steller thought process, he rounded the corner for the steps and paused because he could hear the flurry of excited tones just beneath him, and saw a mountain of bags at the door, with more being brought in by two of the staff.

He glanced over the rail, heart hammering, and saw Caleb by the side entry for the garage. The door was open and he was saying brightly, “We have room for the Jeep, Darren. They'll park it between the Mercedes and Drew’s Ferrari.” Jesus but the conversations had in these four walls.

Then, he heard a voice that sort of rocked him a bit. It was low, mellow, and smooth, very deep like his brother's voices, and for whatever reason, nothing like he expected. He said, “That’s fine. I mean, it’s a Jeep man. It could have stayed out in the rain for a minute.”

Drew’s voice bubbled out and clearly, he was thrilled to have his baby brother back, and Chris was dying because he couldn’t see either of them through the damn wall. “Dude, I can’t believe you’re here. This is a good damn day brother!”