“I did it for both of you.” Two weeks ago I’d gotten a call from Jason, who had been taken to the police station after his ex-girlfriend called them, fearing for her safety. They were out at a nightclub, Jason had been drinking, per usual, and he wasn’t a nice drunk. Add to that, Townsend Industries was going through some difficult times due to the ongoing energy crisis, and I was needed back home. Being the oldest, I was used to cleaning up Jason’s messes. I was also expected to take the reins at Townsend Industries at some point, which meant that my father expected me to be heavily involved in the business, no matter what was going on in my life.

“You need to head down and register for classes.”

“No fucking way I’m going to Stanford,” Jason insisted, pointing a shaky finger at me.

I frowned as he tossed his legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand, but plopped back down onto the bed. He was either still drunk from the night before or severely hungover. Which one, I couldn’t tell.

“You need to get your shit together. We discussed this three days ago in Father’s office. There’s no way Stanford would take you right now. There’s a local community college we’ve registered you at. Even though their semester started, Father bought your way in. You take a few classes, get high enough grades, and maybe another school will accept you as a transfer.” That was the plan, though it was likely a long shot.

“I ain’t going to school,” Jason defiantly protested, finally rising to his feet on his third try. He was younger than me by two years and only an inch shorter than my six-foot-three frame, but his descent into excessive drinking was already taking its toll. His normally lean frame was growing a potbelly while his limbs were wiry.

“That’s the fucking deal. There is no way you’re going to be living with me and sleeping all day and drinking all night. Get your fucking clothes on, drink a cup of coffee to sober up, and then go down to the admissions office to the community college to register for classes, or so help me—”

“So help you what? You gonna kick my ass, Rob?”

“Don’t fucking tempt me,” I growled.

“What if I don’t want to take classes?”

“No one gives a shit what you want to do. You haven’t made good choices up until this point. Getting yourself arrested over a woman.”

“She was disrespecting me!” Jason yelled.

“How? By moving on with her fucking life? You two broke up months ago, didn’t you? And you throw a temper tantrum in a nightclub over your ex going on a date. Grow the hell up.”

“I’m not like you. I don’t hop from woman to woman in a matter of weeks. I actually have feelings.”

I grunted, rolling my eyes. “Yeah, the type of feelings that led you to trying to beat a woman up. Jesus Christ, Jason. Our father may be a piece of shit to our mother but he never hit her.”