Birch shrugged. “Sure. If you help me with calculus.”
“Deal,” Sebastian said, turning to look back at his father’s coffin. “I’ll take care of Mom, Dad. I promise.”
The feel of skin and bone smashing together had never felt better. Sebastian smiled with satisfaction as his fist broke Brandon’s nose. The uppercut sent Brandon flying backward, his head snapping as he collided into his friends.
“This dork has changed,” Sebastian said, now towering over Brandon.
Sebastian’s mother was right when she’d said he would become a man one day. It had taken until he was seventeen, but he’d done it. He was now six feet tall, and while he was still on the skinny side, there was strength in him. He’d grow into his frame but more importantly he was still working out his mind. He’d just gotten a full scholarship to MIT that covered everything from meal plan to lab fees, allowing his mother to use the small savings she’d put aside for his college fund to buy a car that wouldn’t break down every month. He was holding true to the promise he made his father—he was taking care of his mother.
“Remember this, Brandon. I’m bigger, I’m stronger, and I’m a hell of a lot smarter than you. I’ll come after you in ways you’ll never see coming if you don’t leave me and everyone else you pick on alone,” Sebastian threatened.
“Yeah, right. You’re nothing but a chess club dork,” Brandon said as he used the back of his hand to wipe the blood from his nose.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing. You got a full ride to State for football, right?” Sebastian asked.
“Something a dork like you wouldn’t know anything about,” Brandon sneered as he high-fived his teammates. Then turned quickly to try to surprise Sebastian with a haymaker.
Sebastian grabbed Brandon’s hand and twisted with the self-defense move Birch had taught him. Brandon yelped and dropped to his knees in surprise. “I twist just a little bit more and your wrist is broken. You think you’d still be able to be the quarterback when your throwing arm is destroyed? Leave the others and me alone or I’ll destroy any chance you have of playing football ever again. Got it?”
The realization of what Sebastian could do finally sunk in and fear blossomed on Brandon’s face. Brandon’s reign of terror ended there and then. He never bothered Sebastian or anyone else again.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Abel. I told you last month and the month before that, your mother’s insurance won’t cover experimental treatments,” the hospital doctor told him as Sebastian stood outside his mother’s hospital room.
“But I’ve researched it, Doctor. It helps her type of cancer. She’s the perfect candidate,” Sebastian argued, trying to rein in his anger.
The doctor shook his head. “That may be, but it’s not covered by her insurance. It’s a hundred thousand dollar treatment. You’re just a college kid about to graduate. Do you have that money? Does your mother?”
“You know we don’t. I can’t just sit here and watch her die.” Sebastian was beginning to lose what little hold he had on his anger. No longer the scrawny teenager who’d been bullied through life, he was six foot two and two hundred pounds of muscle. No one bullied him anymore. He worked out religiously, but no matter how hard he could punch, it wouldn’t save his mother. Only money could do that. The one thing they’d never had.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Abel. There’s nothing we can do for Elaine. I think you should consider hospice. I’ll send someone to talk to you.” Sebastian watched the doctor walk away as if the whole world hadn’t just stopped spinning.
“Sebastian!” Mrs. Stratton cried from the hospital room.
Sebastian saw Birch’s distraught face first and knew it was too late. There would be no hospice. There would be no more time for him to find a way to save his mother.
Sebastian straightened his back and bit the inside of his lip. He put a gentle smile on his face as he approached his mother. Don’t let her see you cry. This will be the last time I see her and all she needs to see is my love and support. His mother’s eyes were focused outward, but turned toward him as Sebastian took a seat opposite the Stratton family and took his mother’s frail hand in his.
“Don’t worry, Mom. I’m right here and everything is going to be okay now,” Sebastian said as tears ran down Birch and his mother’s faces. Sebastian refused to let his tears flow. Instead, he smiled down at his mother and brushed a gentle hand over what was left of her hair. “I love you, Mom. You’ve been the best mom a son could have and that deserves ice cream. Chocolate peanut butter cup for you and mint chocolate chip for me,” Sebastian said calmly as his mother’s lips turned up into a small smile and then she was gone.
Nurses swarmed the room as Birch and his mother came to hug him. He was all alone now. The woman who had worked day and night to give him every chance at life didn’t make it because he couldn’t find a way to come up with a hundred thousand dollars.
Sebastian roared in anger as the doctor who refused to help him find a way to save his mother came into the room. Sebastian’s fist would have connected with the doctor’s surprised face if Birch hadn’t grabbed him. “You killed her!”
Anger and hatred filled him with helpless fury. “You killed her because of money. I would have paid it. I would have found a way to pay for it, but you wouldn’t even help me!”
“Seb, not now,” Birch said softly, but it was enough to bring Sebastian back to the fact his mother’s body was still in the room and he’d never disgrace her by acting like this.
Sebastian shook off Birch’s hold and walked toward his mother, sending the nurses and doctor stepping back. He picked up her hand and brushed his thumb over it. “I’m sorry I failed you and Dad. I’ll never fail again. I swear it.”
1
Washington D.C., one year ago . . .
Sebastian Abel swirled the rich amber bourbon around in a crystal tumbler as he sat on the patio of his mansion and looked out over the Potomac River. He was fifteen minutes from the White House but this house was a world away for him. The house sat on the river, surrounded by Fort Marcy National Park from the front and the river from the back. Snow sprinkled the rocks below but had melted everywhere else. The fire pit roared in front of him, providing warmth and comfort when the last thing he felt was warmth and comfort.
He’d bought this house because his mother had once mentioned how it was her dream house after seeing it in a magazine. What was he to do with fifteen bedrooms? Birch was the only person to ever visit. If Sebastian had an evening with a date, he spent it at the penthouse of his hotel in downtown D.C. This was his private mansion of solitude.
He tried to pull his mind from thinking about the emptiness and the loneliness of his life. He was constantly surrounded by “yes” people, yet always alone. Sebastian’s phone rang, the tone indicating it was the front gate. The interruption drew him from his lonely thoughts. Sebastian looked at the screen and gave a sad smile. He never forgot. Not once.
He opened the gate and sent a text that he was out back. A couple of minutes later, Birch Stratton, president of the United States, walked out onto the back patio in jeans and a thick navy blue winter coat with the seal of the president embroidered on the chest. He held the familiar bottle of cheap whiskey and set it down on the granite table before dropping into the chair across the small table from Sebastian.