Speak To Me: The Easton Brothers

(Grant) I had that dream again. The one where dad drags me through the house. I can still feel the cool steel of the gun he presses against my ten year old chest before I grasp onto it tightly. "Get to your brother's room now. If a single hair on their head is out of place, you're the one who will pay for it." My father snapped, making me swallow hard before nodding once. "Yes, sir." I mumbled, running down the hall and past the Christmas tree as I saw a few of my father's men going in the opposite direction. It was Christmas Eve, and this was the day my uncle Ricky died. He was more like a father to me than my own. I remember he brought me a special gift that night. It was a small box covered in blue wrapping paper that he had made specially for me. Inside was a dagger with my initials on the handle. Okay, maybe we weren't the most traditional family. But growing up in the mafia will do that to you. That was the last Christmas I truly felt like a kid. Maybe it was because I saw my Uncle Ricky die right before my very own eyes. But I also did something else that night. Something only my father knew. That was the first time I ever killed someone. But it was either him or Gray. And I would choose Gray every time. Let's just say I'm not a huge fan of Christmas after that one. So when I woke up to Jingle Bells being blasted throughout the damn condo, I wasn't in the best f*****g mood. Especially after that dream. Throwing my blankets off if me, I flung my feet over the side of the bed and slapped my hands over my face, rubbing up and down. I felt stressed the hell out already. The past few months have been... interesting. I still haven't found out who Sammy's biological father is. But that isn't the worst thing in the world. Chances are, the guy doesn't even know Sammy exists. I still remember the day I found Sammy in that shitty apartment all bruised and beaten. There wasn't a single hesitation to take him out of there. And after that, well, we haven't separated since. Other than for school and stuff. But even then, I have eyes on him at all times. Being Ex Mafia does have its perks. I managed to create a fake birth certificate and even got my little dude his own passport. As for his piece of s**t mother, Eva Monroe, I have eyes on her too. She is off in Europe, trying to hook up with some poor rich bastard and hasn't tried to reach out about Sammy one. Considering she signed over her rights, there's nothing she could do if she wanted to anyway. Besides, I meant it when I said I would kill her if she ever showed her face around here again. Not just because of Sammy, but because of the s**t she tried to pull on my sister and brother in law. That woman is vile. And the only good thing that ever came out of her was that little boy. Yeah, he might not be my biological son, and I had nothing to do with his mom, but he is my son regardless. I felt a bond with him since the moment I took him from that hellhole. Now that Gabriella and Jamie have the twins, I see them on the weekends when we do family dinners. Since this is our first Christmas all together, they are making a huge deal about it for the twins. I know in a way, this is Sammy's first real Christmas as well, so I get it. I want to make it special for my little dude too. Suddenly, loud, horrible singing came echoing down the hall, making me groan. "Is he trying to piss me off?" I muttered, going to stand as I felt that uneasiness rising once again. Going to my dresser, I quickly pulled on a blue shirt to match the sweats I was already wearing and headed towards the door. I'm not trying to be a grinch, but it's f*****g hard not to be when Christmas is being shoved down my throat every damn second. Walking across the room, the faint smell of something sweet wafted towards me. "Is he seriously baking right now?!" I scoffed before ripping my door open and almost tripping on a damn Santa rug that was now placed in front of my door. No f*****g way. Looking up in horror, I swear everywhere my gaze landed, the condo had been transformed into some type of f*****g hallmark movie set as my eyes widened in horror. Then the singing began once again. "You better watch out. You better not cry!" Oh, someone was going to be crying... I told him one tree and some lights! I mean, is all of this necessary?! I stepped over the Santa rug, trying not to overreact before walking down the hallway and heading to the kitchen. That's when I froze in my tracks. Standing in the kitchen was my brother Grayson dressed in some type of reindeer apron with Sammy right beside him. The smile on Sammy's face made all of that anger disappear in seconds as he quickly lifted his head before locking those blue eyes on me. "Dad! Uncle Gray is teaching me how to make cookies!" He said happily, and I couldn't help but smile. "That's great, Sammy." I stated cheerfully, putting my arms out just in time to catch him as he came racing towards me. God, I loved his hugs. "Did Uncle Grayson wake you up? I told him he was being too loud." He whispered, making me laugh as I kept hugging him tightly. "It's okay. I needed to get up anyway." That's when I saw my brother's humor filled eyes dart my way. "You are so f*****g dead." I mouthed, making him point to himself like he was shocked I would say that to him. That's when I motioned around the house, drawing attention to all of the decorations that now filled it as he just shrugged and began mixing something in a bowl. "Doesn't the house look great, Grant? Sammy and I worked really hard decorating it." Grayson finally piped up, causing my gaze to turn murderous. He knows I have a weakness now. And he uses Sammy against me any chance he can get. "Yep, great." I gritted out, eyeing the large stuffed reindeer now standing by the tree. Where the hell did they even get all of this stuff?! I walked over to the kitchen, setting Sammy down on the stool before peering over at whatever the hell Grayson was making when I went to reach for a cookie. "Hey! Those aren't for you!" He snapped, slapping my hand with a spatula as I quickly balled it into a fist. Remember Grant, there is a child present. No violence. I took a deep breath and looked at Grayson, feeling completely unamused. "There are at least forty cookies here. You can't spare one?" I mumbled, annoyed. "They're for Aunty Kat." Sammy suddenly piped in, making my brow arch as I looked at Grayson suspiciously. "Are they now?" Grayson has been hiding out here in New York with me. He was staying in California at our family home, but that was before Katrina Kensington came into his life. Long story short... I found out I had a half sister named Gabriella. We shared the same mom, and I never knew she existed until recently. Apparently she had two half sisters of her own, and after a fire broke out, Katrina was the only survivor. Thinking she might have some useful information about my birth mom, I decided to transfer her to California to be taken care of. That's where Grayson comes in. And apparently he fell in love with the girl the moment he met her. After finding out why she was brought to California, things ended up going south and Katrina attempted to take her own life. Grayson thought it would be best to keep his distance for a while. But what did he do instead? Moved across the freaking country and has been hiding out in my apartment since. Oh, not to mention stalks the damn girl any chance he gets and does s**t like this all the time. "She isn't ready for that yet." Grayson added sadly, making me sigh heavily before reaching back out and stealing a cookie before he could stop me. "People are going to think I know how to bake and s**t if you keep making me take this stuff over there for her." I grumbled, making Grayson laugh. It wasn't a real laugh, though. I know he was depressed as hell, but he was also afraid of how Katrina might act if she finds out he followed her here. "Please, just do it for me." He said, making me nod once before turning towards Sammy. "So kiddo, what's on the agenda for today?" I asked, changing the subject before biting down into the cookie. "We get to see Miss Stephanie today!" Oh, right... her.