Beats of the Heart - Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Miles slept through the Saturday morning and woke up with a groan when his phone chimed. He rolled over and was surprised to see a message from his younger brother.
After his mother passed away and his altercation with Larry, he believed he would never have contact with that side of his family again. However, Miles' paternal grandparents had found out about him and made a fuss about meeting each other. Unlike Larry Anderson, Delma and Glenn were kind souls. They had made it a point to have dinner at least once a month for the last twelve years, so he had become familiar with them.
They were overly affectionate and had grown up struggling until they made a name for themselves so they could relate to Miles' situation. He didn't expect to find a family with the Andersons, but they shared a warmth he yearned for.
Miles knew that Larry had other kids, but Larry was reluctant to have Miles integrated into his family dynamic. After months of Delma's nagging,  Miles was introduced to his two younger half-brothers.
The older boy was Will, who was a carbon copy of Larry. He was just as arrogant and insufferable as his father. It was evident that he was Larry's favorite. Miles and Will never interacted unless it was some underhanded insult.
Then there was his youngest half-brother, Danny. How Larry and his wife, Madeline, produced such a genuine kid is lost on him. They had tried to steer Danny away from Miles, but the kid had a stubborn streak and would meet with Miles behind their back. Miles was initially reluctant to get close to him, but the kid won him over easily.
Truthfully, they needed each other in a sense. Larry had made their lives difficult and had a knack for putting Danny and Miles down at any opportunity. They built a bond over time and could always turn to each other when needed. However, Danny never asked for help, even when he should. Therefore, when he saw a random text from Danny, Miles was instantly worried.
Danny: I think I need help.
Miles tore back his sheets and dialed Danny while rushing to the closet to pull on clothes.
Miles didn't wait for him to speak when the phone picked up. "Are you safe?!"
"Yeah," Danny's voice was muffled, and it was apparent he was struggling with his emotions.
"Okay, kiddo, that's good. You're not hurt anywhere?"
A cross between a laugh and a sniffle sounded through the phone. "No. Nothing like that."
Miles' shoulders relaxed, and he breathed out a relieved breath. "Thank god. You know, I'm too young for a heart attack."
"You're getting up there in age, so you should watch it." Danny laughed, this time sounding more at ease than when he answered. "30 years old is practically over the hill."
"Fucker." Miles muttered. He placed the phone on speaker and set it on a table in his closet. He pulled over a sweater. "What's happening?"
"I got screwed over," Danny mumbled. "I have no idea what to do."
Miles immediately became protective. He had watched Danny grow up from a kid to an 18-year-old young adult. He had taught him about music, bought him books, and helped him with homework—without Larry knowing, of course.
"Where do I need to go?" Miles asked.
"What?"
"Where are you? I'll head over now."
Danny was reluctant. "Are you sure? I'm not bothering you or anything."
Miles sighed ruefully, knowing this was just Danny's typical reaction when someone wanted to help him. He was always scared to ask for it, which was something they had in common. However, Miles would never leave him hanging. He wasn't Larry.
"Talk to me, Danny. I need your address and a rundown of the situation."
Danny mumbled the place he was at, and Miles recognized it as a small neighborhood close to Columbia.
"Are you already moving for college?" Miles asked. He was proud that Danny was going to his old stomping ground.
"Well..." Danny paused. "That's the problem. I was, but something happened with the apartment. The movers are here and waiting, but they don't have a place to move my shit into. And my friends... fuck."
Miles frowned. Danny was not one who ever said the word fuck. He must truly be out of sorts. "I'm in Brooklyn now. I'll rush over now, but crossing the bridge will take a bit. But we'll get this sorted out. Tell the movers to hang tight, and I'll spot them a handsome tip."
"They're getting antsy. Are you sure that will work?" Danny whispered.
"Who's the company?" Miles asked with a clenched jaw. He hated that Danny was uncomfortable.
"I went with the people you recommended. Gio's... They were the only people available on short notice."
Miles chuckled. "Thank god for that. Let me talk to one of them."
Danny was usually shy, so Miles could hear him stumble over his words as he spoke with someone with a thick Brooklyn accent.
Miles heard an annoyed sigh. "Listen, we don't have time to sit here with our thumbs up our asses."
"Frankie?" Miles asked.
In certain neighborhoods, your neighbors were more family than actual family. When his mom became sick, people stepped up and helped them, and Miles and his mom paid them back in kind. Gio and his workers were people who watched Miles grow up. They helped Miles when he needed to move or needed quick money. In return, he did everything possible to pay them back—odd jobs, cooking, cleaning, or even tutoring their kids.
Frankie was silent for a moment. "Miles? This kid said he's your brother."
Miles chuckled. "He is. Seems like some shit went down. You know what's up?"
"The kid's made some shitty friends. Fuck 'em. I recommend he finds a new place."
"Fuck. That bad?"
Frankie lowered his voice. "From what I overheard, they made him front the deposit, and now they are squeezing him out of the apartment."
"Fuck." Miles slipped on his jacket and raced out of his house. "Listen, is there any way you can squeeze a delivery to my place? I know it's out of your way, but you know I'm good for it."
Frankie sighed. "You're lucky we like you. We're technically off in 30, but we'll pull some overtime for you."
"Frankie, you're an angel. I'm going to pay you for it. Don't you dare fucking fight me on that." He grinned. His place was too big to live alone, and the top floor would be the perfect spot for Danny. It had a full living space with a small kitchen. It was probably bigger than most apartments in the city.
He gave Frankie the visitor's code to his house so they could head over immediately, and then Frankie handed the phone back to Danny.
"Miles? What's going on? They're leaving?"
"I'm going to pick you up now. Frankie is going to deliver your stuff to my place. It's a bit further away from the school, but the subway makes everything possible—until you get back on your feet."
Miles was suddenly hesitant. He hadn't thought that Danny might be opposed to it.
"Is that ok?" Miles asked tentatively.
"You'll do that? Really?" He seemed to be in disbelief.
Miles felt a wave of relief. "Of course, kiddo. I got your back. Do you have a place to hang out until I get there?"
"Yeah, there's a coffee shop across the street."
Miles took off on his motorcycle, weaving in and out of traffic. Danny was a sweet kid, and he hated seeing him in distress. He was supposed to break free from his parents and was excited to move out with his friends. It was a sense of achievement, but it came crumbling down. Miles never wanted to see him falter or sound as helpless as he did on the phone. He felt a wave of hatred for the people who made him feel that way.
He could see the coffee shop ahead and pulled his bike over to the side of the street to park. He ripped off his helmet and walked into the coffee, hearing the chime of the bell. The warmth from the shop made him remove his leather jacket, and some patrons bristled when they noticed the tattoos running up his arms. However, he didn't see their unfriendly gazes because his focus was on Danny standing in the back of the shop facing a small group of kids his age.
Danny's posture showed that he was uncomfortable, but he was obviously angry. Whatever the group was discussing, it was hushed but confrontational. Miles' jaw clenched, and he stormed over to them.
"Listen, Danny, no hard feelings, right? Things change." A kid said with a shrug.
Danny sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, something he picked up from Miles. "Yeah, things change, but what about the deposit I fronted?"
"You offered to pay it, not us," another kid said, trying to conceal his sneer.
"Yes, with the intention of actually moving into the place I paid for."
"Are you really griping about several grand? Your dad can afford it." A girl said with a chuckle.
"Damnit, Carla, it's not my dad's money. I worked the past two summers for that." Danny spat out.
One of the boys grabbed Danny's shirt. "Watch how you speak to her."
Miles snatched the kid's wrist and turned a stony glare toward him. "How about you stop there."
The kid looked him up and down, showing some of his concern but tried to hide it. "Who the fuck are you?"
"Doesn't matter. Let go." Miles said quietly. Some of the other patrons noticed the dispute and watched them.
"Do you know who my father is?"
"Is he rich?" Miles asked.
"Filthy."
"Good. He can pay back the money you stole from Danny. After he pays off the medical bills for your broken wrist."
The kid paled and let go of Danny. Miles released his grip and turned to Danny. He examined his shirt and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "About ready?"
Danny took a deep breath and nodded.
"Who the hell are you? Danny's boyfriend?" The girl, Carla, chided.
Danny and Miles shuddered simultaneously, and Miles spat out a curse. Few could tell they were related because neither inherited a single trait from Larry.
Danny had pale skin, bright green eyes, and light blonde hair. He was lithe and sat a couple of inches shorter than Miles. On the other hand, Miles inherited Nina's dark complexion, golden amber eyes, and black hair. He was tall and lean, but his body was toned with muscle.
"He's my brother," Danny said darkly.
That silenced the group. "My god. The bastard?" One of them finally spoke up as if Miles was a dirty secret—perhaps he was to Larry Anderson.
Miles didn't mind. He had been called worse by better people. "And who is your father that you bragged about?"
"James Townsend," He answered with a smug smirk.
Miles nodded thoughtfully. "Townsend. He runs a good magazine with a well-known headquarters. That's good. I'll know where my lawyer will send their summons."
"S...summons?"
"Of course. Just because we're leaving now doesn't mean we're letting go of the fact that you're a thief." Miles chuckled. "You'll hear from us soon."
He handed Danny the helmet and smiled. "I hope you're okay on motorcycles."
Danny nodded, and he quietly followed Miles out of the coffee shop.
Danny was not ok on a motorcycle. He clung to Miles for dear life, but he didn't complain. Miles made a mental note to use the car more often with Danny.
When they got to the townhouse, he was surprised to see Gio's team finishing up. Miles approached them and hugged the one named Frankie, slipping some cash into his hand. Frankie tried to protest, but Miles insisted, saying it was to take his wife out for their anniversary. He followed suit with the others who helped move Danny in.
He was familiar with each man, not caring about status, and joked happily with them.
"We assumed everything needed to be on the top floor. It was the only floor we hadn't moved things in yet, so we brought everything up there." Frankie explained.
"You're right," he said while patting his arm. "Thanks again."
"We all owe you, Miles. This was nothing. Just don't mind the shitty attitude we had before."
Miles chuckled, dismissing the comment. "You all going to catch the fights at the pub in a couple of Saturdays?"
"We wouldn't miss it."
"Good. I'll buy everyone a round. Thanks again for your help."
Miles turned back to Danny and swung an arm around his shoulders. "Let's get you settled in."
Danny was surprised when he entered the townhouse. He never knew what Miles did for a living, and their father made him sound like a deadbeat. However, his home was in a good neighborhood. Inside was even more surprising. It was open and clean, revealing a large living area and kitchen with a large fireplace. All the appliances were updated and state of the art. It was a modern home with a rustic feel because of the original brick accent wall and wrought iron fixtures.
"I've had some work done to the place," Miles explained. "This is our parlor floor and main living area for entertainment and opens up to a deck and small garden in the back. There are two levels above this. The second floor is the study and guest room. The top floor will be yours."
Danny looked up the stairs in amazement. "Mine?"
"It has its own den, kitchen, and bedroom," Miles explained.
"What about you?"
Miles pointed to the staircase leading to the floor below. "There is the garden level floor that has been updated for my living space, and then below it is the basement. I work out of the basement, so I ask that you avoid it."
Danny nodded obediently.
"You can go down the street a couple of blocks and catch the subway. It's still a 30 to 40 minute commute to school, so if it becomes difficult, let me know, and I can set up another arrangement."
"What do you mean?"
"I have a few apartments in the Upper West Side, but nothing big. If you prefer that, you can tell me."
Danny grinned. "I like being here. We never had an opportunity to hang out like this before." He pulled at Miles' sleeve. "Thank you."
Miles smiled broadly. He always liked Danny but had to keep him at arm's length to avoid their father's disdain. But now, he could finally create a small family dynamic with his brother. For the first time in a long time, he wasn't living alone.