Slightly Rattled, A Second Epilogue: The Baxter Boys ~ Rattled, #8

By Jane Charles

Christian Sucato may have found love in Shake, Rattle and Roll, but he hadn't found his family. Did the DNA kit Bethany give him lead to any answers?

Christian Sucato had spent his life wondering why he was abandoned at birth. When a DNA test matches him to a brother, Christian hopes that he will finally find the answers he'd always been searching for. However, he hadn't expected a family, and he's not quite prepared for the answers he's about to get.

But, once the dust settles, will more fractures upset Christian's world? Will Christian be forced to choose one of his best friends over his brother?

Series reading Order:

Rattle

Rattle His Cage

All Horns & Rattles

Shake, Rattle & Roll

Rattling Around

The Christmas Rattle

Slightly Rattled

The Rattle Box

• Language: English
• Publisher: Night Shift Publishing
• Release date: Feb 5, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386006978

Jane Charles

Jane Charles has lived in the Midwest her entire life. As a child she would more likely be found outside with a baseball than a book in her hand. In fact, Jane hated reading until she was sixteen. Out of boredom on a long road trip she borrowed her older sister’s historical romance and fell in love with reading. She long ago lost count of how many fiction novels she has read over the years and her love for them never died.  Along with romance she has a passion for history and the two soon combined when she penned her first historical romance.  What turned into a hobby became a passion, which has been fully supported by her husband, three children and three cats. JaneCharlesAuthor.com Jane can be contacted at: [e-mail] Twitter and FB: JaneACharle  

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Slightly Rattled ~ A Second Epilogue

(Baxter Boys ~ Rattled #8)

Jane Charles

Copyright © 2019 by Jane Charles

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, locations and events are either a product of the author’s imagination, fictitious or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any event, locale or person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Contents

Dedication

1.ZOE

2.ANDREW

3.CHRISTIAN

4.ZOE

5.ANDREW

6.CHRISTIAN

7.ZOE

8.ANDREW

9.CHRISTIAN

10.ZOE

11.ANDREW

12.CHRISTIAN

13.ZOE

14.ANDREW

15.CHRISTIAN

16.ZOE

17.ANDREW

18.CHRISTIAN

19.ZOE

20.ANDREW

21.CHRISTIAN

22.ZOE

23.ANDREW

24.CHRISTIAN

25.ZOE

26.ANDREW

27.CHRISTIAN

28.ZOE

29.ANDREW

30.CHRISTIAN

31.ZOE

32.ANDREW

33.CHRISTIAN

34.ZOE

35.ANDREW

36.CHRISTIAN

37.ZOE

38.ANDREW

39.CHRISTIAN

40.ZOE

41.ANDREW

42.CHRISTIAN

43.ZOE

44.ANDREW

45.CHRISTIAN

46.ZOE

47.ANDREW

48.CHRISTIAN

49.ZOE

50.ANDREW

51.CHRISTIAN

52.ZOE

53.ANDREW

54.CHRISTIAN

55.ZOE

56.ANDREW

57.CHRISTIAN

Dedication

When not writing, I’m often at the theatre and have

been lucky enough to direct shows of

my heart. However, besides the actors, none of those

productions would have been a success without

the amazing team I’ve had the honorof working with

backstage. I could not do a production without these individuals. The are the first people contact when I get a show.

Kathy Hauk, Kieth Wagner, Cristin Robertson, Chris Peterlin, Megan Johnston,

Rebekah Dentino and Carrie McMillion.

ZOE

But he’s sooo cute. I hold the two-month-old Cavanese up to Christian Sucato’s face. Aria needs a puppy.

Aria can have a puppy when she’s old enough to take care of one. Christian gently pushes the puppy away from his face. Since I’m still changing Aria’s diaper, I think that’s a few years off.

Aria is Christian’s ten-month-old daughter, cute as a button and needs a puppy. My three favorite things in the world are puppies, kittens, and babies. I’ll only ever have puppies and kittens, but that’s okay. For the most part, I like animals better than people anyway.

She is a darling, Bethany, Christian’s wife, takes the pup and scratches him behind the ears. What kind of dog is it?

A Cavanese.

What the hell is a Cavanese? Christian asks.

A King Charles Spaniel and Maltese mix, I answer. The owner of the Spaniel was a breeder, but then decided they didn’t want to be bothered after the pups were born. I hate it when people breed irresponsibly.

It’s a shame we don’t have time to take care of him, Bethany snuggles the pup.

I can barely parent and I’m sure I’m screwing up, Christian says. I’m not going to screw up a dog too.

You’re a wonderful parent, I argue. Aria is perfect. You guys are perfect. She’s loved, fed, bathed, and properly diapered. That’s all that matters.

And we don’t do dogs in a house with Dylan, Christian reminds me. "He’ll have a fit the first time the dog pees on the floor.

I roll my eyes. Dylan never needs to know. Not if you keep the pup in the basement with you.

Christian and Bethany live in a basement apartment in the same house as Dylan and his family. Dylan can’t stand for anything to be out of place or dirty. You can crate him at night. The pup, not Dylan, then take him out the back door so nobody would see him. When he’s free inside, you can put down puppy pads…

Christian pulls back with a look of disgust. My daughter will not be crawling through puppy poop and pee.

He’ll train quickly, I promise. They have to keep the little guy. I can’t stand the idea of having to take him back to the shelter. Though, I will have to when I leave, but I hoped it was only for as long as it would take Christian and Bethany to fill out the adoption paperwork.

The pup lets out a little bark then licks Bethany’s face.

See, he loves you.

Even if he gets trained overnight, Dylan will eventually hear a bark, unless I muzzle the thing, Christian complains.

That’s just cruel. I take the puppy back and hold him against my breast. I think Aria needs it as a Halloween present.

Halloween is for candy, not pets, Christian says.

But puppies are better. I hold the puppy back out to him.

Reluctantly, Christian takes the little darling. All I need them to do is fall in love and one more puppy has a home. It’s not so much to ask. You don’t want that cute little face to be locked up in a cage in the shelter do you?

Zoe… Christian warns.

I put my hands over the pup’s ears and whisper, They euthanize there. Do you want to live with that on your conscience?

Somebody will adopt him, Bethany assures me.

She’s right. The cute puppies always get adopted. It’s the older and not so cute dogs that are eventually put down. I hate it and cry every time, which is why I volunteer to get as many animals into loving homes as I can. It’s my mission in life.

How about an older, calmer dog? One that is trained, well-behaved, but would be an excellent dog for protection, I suggest hopefully.

"We are not getting a dog. Any kind of dog. Young, old, cute, ugly, mutt or purebred." Christian hands the pup back.

Fine! I take the little guy back. You know, if you guys want to take a nap, I’ll be happy to watch Aria for you. I babysit every chance I get.

I’m beginning to think you might not be the best influence on our daughter. Christian complains with a laugh then looks at Bethany. Aria will say dog before she ever says dada or mama.

I promise that won’t happen, Bethany assures him.

Christian’s phone dings and he swipes across it, then frowns.

What? Bethany asks.

The DNA site. I have another match.

Match? What DNA site?

Bethany got me one of those DNA kits last year, to see if I have any family members out there.

Do you?

Christian was abandoned as a newborn and there have been no clues to who his mom or dad were or are.

There have been a few people who have popped up, but the shared DNA is so miniscule that if we are related it’s so distant that they couldn’t possibly know anything about my immediate blood relatives.

Maybe this one will be a closer match, I offer hopefully.

I’m not holding my breath hoping. Christian puts the phone aside like he doesn’t care. Or, maybe he wants to look in private. Out of all of us who have been friends since high school, Christian has always been the most private in that he deals with things alone before he tells anyone, like when he was diagnosed with cancer last year. He told us, but he lived with it for a week before Sean confronted him and wanted to know what was going on.

Bethany follows me to the door. I’ll work on him, she whispers.

I knew she would fall in love with the pup. For Christian to fall in love, I’ll just have to find the right dog and then he’ll turn to mush too.

Taking the puppy, I head back to the shelter. I had no idea that Christian was looking for family, but I get why. He needs answers. I don’t have my family anymore, but I’ve always known who they are, or were.

ANDREW

I did the whole DNA thing to find my sister and my mom. There are several kits on the market, and I did them all, hoping to find a match somewhere. The DNA websites are pretty much my last resort. If this doesn’t pan out, I’ll have to wait until I have enough money to hire a private investigator. That’s not going to happen anytime soon since I’m just starting my career and have student loan debts that I’ll probably still be paying off when I start collecting Social Security.

It’s been eleven years since we were separated and the need to find Mom and Samantha gets stronger the more that time passes. Samantha would be twenty-two now. She was just a kid when I was kicked out. I was only fifteen. Mom wasn’t to blame. That was all on Dad and I take full responsibility for the actions that lead to his decision.

Other than missing my mom and sister, it was the best thing that could have happened to me and I have absolutely no regrets. However, I really want to find my sister and my mom. What I hadn’t expected when I did all these DNA tests was for one of them to pop up with a probable sibling based on the percentage of the match and he goes by the name of Christian Smith.

At one time I had a brother, for a very short time—Christopher, but he died within hours of his birth. He was born between me and Samantha. Even if my parents had another kid after I was gone, he’d only be about ten and probably not doing a DNA kit or setting up a meeting in a bar, so who the hell is this Christian Smith?

Though, it’s possible that Samantha changed her name, and gender identity, and maybe that’s who is waiting for me. A lot could have happened in eleven years.

I glance up at the sign above the door. I guess I’ll find out soon enough since I’m about to meet this Christian at The Poison Apple. His choice of venue, not mine. Not that I’m a stranger to bars or clubs, I’ve just never been in this one.

After taking a deep breath, I head inside. The place is pretty empty with the exception of four people at a far table and a guy sitting at the bar. It is kind of early yet for a crowd since most people are still at work. I took off early just so I could make this meeting.

The bartender glances up and then looks me over as her eyes widen slightly before she heads over to the guy sitting on a stool with his hands clasped around a mug of beer. I can’t really see his face because his long, dark hair is hanging down to just past his shoulders.

The bartender leans in and then nods in my direction.

The guy slowly turns, and I find that I’m holding my breath. Then our eyes meet and without a single word I know that he’s my brother. A the brother I never knew about.

His eyes are the same as mine and the man that fathered us, and his bone structure is similar. Then, in a split second I recognized him for another reason.

Can my brother really be Christian Sucato the saxophone player? I know his songs, but that’s about it. This has got to be a huge mistake.

He stands as I come forward. Andrew? he asks.

Christian?

Yep.

Sucato must be his stage names since Smith was on the DNA sight. I suppose most performers change their names, so it isn’t that big of a deal.

We just stand and stare at each other. I don’t know what to say, how to begin and he just studies me.

I’m confused, I finally say.

About what?

How I potentially have a brother when I thought I only had a sister.

His chin lowers and studies me. You didn’t know you had a brother?

Not until the match popped up, but honestly, I can’t figure this out.

How old are you? Christian asks.

Twenty-six. You?

Twenty-four, he answers.

I frown. I would have known if Mom or Dad had another kid when I was two. That couldn’t have been hidden. "This doesn’t make any sense. I had a brother your age." Is it possible…No!

Except…

Oh God, did Mom fake Christopher’s death? Did Dad?

Impossible! Neither one of them would do something like that. There’s got to be another explanation. Did someone else fake his death and then lie to my parents? Or is this just a fluke that we somehow share DNA.

Even though it’s disappointing that I don’t have a brother, at least I got to meet Christian Sucato so there is that.

Except, he has Dad’s eyes and there’s a resemblance…

What can I get you? the bartender asks.

Whatever you have on draft. I really don’t care, though maybe I should have ordered a shot or something. I was looking for my sister and my mom. Not a brother, I explain again as I take a seat at the bar.

You said you had one though, right?

Yeah, but he died at birth.

What was his name?

Christopher.

When and where was he born?

I don’t know the hospital, but it was here, in New York. July 17th and I give the year.

He looks over at the bartender.

If he’s a fan, he already knows your birthdate, she says to Christian. This wouldn’t be the first time someone has claimed to be family since you never made it a secret that you’re basically an orphan that grew up in foster care.

This is the first time there’s been a DNA match of high probability, Christian reminds her.

The bartender studies me. Do you think that can be faked?

Alyssa’s not very trusting, Christian says. And, neither am I. Can they be faked?

No, but what if the site mixed up samples or something…

Maybe your mom or dad had someone on the side, Alyssa suggests.

While that would make sense in the normal world, it wasn’t possibly with my family.

Alyssa snorts in disbelief and I get it. She can’t begin to understand the circumstances or my family dynamic. She your girlfriend or something?

Or something, Christian answers.

A group of people come in and sit down at the bar and Alyssa heads over to serve them.

Do you mind if we talk in private. I’m sure Alyssa is nice and all, but this is between me and Christian and for us to figure out. What if the DNA didn’t lie? If it didn’t, then this could be Christopher, which takes me back to wondering why the hell my parents didn’t bring him home and then tell everyone that he died. Children were assets and would have elevated Dad in the community, so there must be some bizarre explanation like we’re cousins or something. Mom and Dad both had family members outside of the community. Nobody I ever met, though, since they cut ties with them and I didn’t bother to find them either. Had there been any type of lasting relationship with my parents I would have had some place to go, but I didn’t even know the names of my extended family.

He nods to a table and grabs his beer.

Look, I don’t like to talk about before and even though I have no control over what you say to anyone, I’d like you to keep this between the two of us until I can figure it out.

He leans in, resting his forearms on the table. How bad was before? He seems really interested.

The before explains why I would know if one of my parents had another kid.

Go on.

We lived in a commune. I prefer to call it a cult.

He pulls back, his eyes going wide in disbelief. Seriously?

I’ve only told a few people, my two best friends, and they had the same reaction. There was no reason to cheat, nor a way to cheat. It was a closed community and if any of the women would have had sex with another man, it wouldn’t have stayed a secret long. And, since the men were allowed more than one wife, there was no reason to have a mistress.

Christian’s eyes widen further.

I grew up in a community that lived off the grid, in a sense. They were survivalists, anti-government, armed to the teeth and not with just hunting rifles, and used religion to support their beliefs. Over the years, I think they started really believing their bullshit. I take a drink of my beer. I don’t like talking about the community. "The leader claimed to talk directly to God, as is usually the case. If you were one of the chosen eleven, which my father was, it was your duty to have as