“He wouldn’t have known about it if I’d returned the tux on time.” Liam’s shoulders slumped under the weight of his guilt. “That was the last straw. I wasn’t going to let him touch her again. I told her she had to leave because the next time I saw him it was going to be him or me, and I didn’t want to spend my life in jail. I think she knew the next time would be the last. She agreed to go. We packed up the car and I drove her to a hospital out of state and arranged for Aunt Jean to come from Florida to get her. Then I came back for my motorcycle and got the hell out of the city while he was still passed out.” His chest heaved, and he poured another drink. There wasn’t enough whiskey in the whole damn distillery to erase his memory of that night.

“I didn’t know it had gotten so bad,” Brendan said quietly. “Mom called to tell me you’d helped her get away. I was so relieved she was finally free of him, but I have to admit I resented you for doing what I couldn’t do, and for getting out when I knew I’d have to go back and help him run the company, and you and mom wouldn’t be there.”

“Since we’re sharing . . .” Liam drew in a shuddering breath. “I resented you for doing nothing to stop him when we were young, and then for blowing out of there for college and leaving me alone with a man who thought I was a worthless, no-good piece of shit.”

Brendan’s breaths came faster, heavier. “I’m not you, Liam,” he snapped. “I don’t have your strength—facing him down at thirteen was something I didn’t have in me. But I did what I could. I hid his bottles, watered down his liquor, and took his keys. I’d ask Mom to take me shopping just to get her out, or I’d take you to the playground. I would ask him to watch a game, throw a ball in the park, or I’d just try and talk him down, even though spending time with him was the last thing I wanted to do.”

Liam’s glass slipped from his fingers, thudding softly on the bar as he tried to process everything Brendan had told him. After all these years of thinking his brother had been sucking up to their father, he’d been trying to protect him and their mom in his own way. He took a deep, pained breath and closed his eyes. “Bren . . . I didn’t know.”

“I know you didn’t,” he said, not unkindly.

When Liam opened his eyes again, Brendan was staring into space, holding his glass loosely in his hand. “I tried to protect you, but you didn’t seem to need me. All the verbal abuse he threw at you just rolled off your back.”

“If it had, I’d be with Daisy right now.” Liam’s voice was thick and hoarse. “I heard every negative word he said about me. I felt them. I carry them with me, and I can’t let them go.”

“He didn’t think you were worthless, Liam. Just the opposite.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He didn’t want to hear a story about his dad that wasn’t exactly like the one in his head. He’d spent too long hating the old man, too long trying to prove something to someone who didn’t care.

“He envied you because you were everything Grandpa had wanted him to be, and you were a constant reminder that he’d let his father down. You were smart, strong, brave, loyal, and honest. Not only that, he couldn’t control you because you didn’t put up with his shit. When he couldn’t break you with his fists, he tried to break you with his words. Grandpa told him once that you were a better man, more worthy of his legacy at thirteen than he would ever be, and he intended to leave the distillery to you. That’s what set him off the night he broke your arm.”

Worthy. Because of who he was, and not what he’d done. The goal he’d been pursuing all his life had been inside him all along.

Emotion welled up in his chest. They’d never been an affectionate family so the closest he could get to a hug was to clap Brendan on the shoulder. “Thank you for telling me. For everything.”

“And you.” Brendan turned away, but not before Liam saw his eyes glisten.

“They’re starting now,” Joe called out from the door. “Bulldozer is on its way to the rickhouse. You want to watch?”

“Tell Jaxon I’ll be right there,” Brendan said.

“He’s not with me.” Joe stepped inside, frowning. “I haven’t seen him since Liam arrived.”

Brendan’s breath hitched and he rose quickly from his seat. “I sent him out to see you.”

“I’ll take a look around,” Joe said.

“You don’t think he would have gone into one of the buildings?” Brendan made his way quickly toward the door with Liam close behind.

“Jaxon’s not like me,” Liam assured him. “He doesn’t break the rules. He might just be playing nearby—probably in the field with his plane . . .”

“Liam . . .” Brendan’s voice trembled.

“We’ll find him, Bren.” Nausea roiled in his belly and he feigned a confidence he didn’t feel in the least. “Don’t worry.”

Ten minutes later, after a quick search of the parking lot and the distillery grounds, they met up with Joe.

“I checked the malt house, the mash tun, and the stillroom. He’s not there.”

“I need to call Lauren.” Brendan pulled out his phone, his hand shaking.

“You’ll just scare her,” Liam said. “It will take her over an hour to get out here and she’ll be totally panicked when she’s driving. Let’s look again. If we don’t find him in the next ten minutes, then give her a call. I’m sure we’ll find him. He’s only five years old. How far could he go?”

A tremendous crash startled him and he looked over just as the wall of the rickhouse crumbled.

“Jesus Christ. Didn’t anyone tell them to stop?”

All the blood drained from Brendan’s face. “What if he’s inside?” His voice rose to a panicked pitch. “I can’t lose him. I didn’t think after Dad I could love anyone, but Jaxon and Lauren, they’re everything to me.”