Arctic Fire by Stephen Frey Page B

pointed out, when the alcohol caught up with him. “They adopted me because they thought Cheryl couldn’t have kids. When Troy came along out of nowhere two years later it was all over for me because he’s blood and I’m not. Full stop. They would have given me back if they could have.”
    “That’s bullshit, Jack, and you know it. They’ve always loved you. They’ve always treated you and Troy like equals.”
    “Now
that’s
bullshit. At least as far as Bill goes.”
    Hunter shrugged. “Well, what do you expect? He sends you to Exeter, one of the best prep schools in the country. And the day after you get there you tell the headmaster your name isn’t really Jack Jensen. You tell him it’s really Sonny Carbone or something like that and that you’re a made man in the mob. Then you tell him to fuck off in Italian in front of half the student body. Which would have been fine because he didn’t understand Italian, but you flipped him the bird too.”
    “Yeah, well I’m not ashamed of whatever my real name is,” Jack grumbled. “I don’t appreciate Bill being ashamed.”
    “He isn’t. He’s just—”
    “Look at me.” Jack came up off the wall and rose to his full height of six two. “I look Italian. I look like my name ought to be Sonny Carbone. I’ve got jet-black hair and a Roman nose the size of New Jersey. I’ve even got a little olive to my skin, which means I’m a mutt even in Italy. I mean, could I ever pass for a blue blood? Would anybody ever believe my last name is reallyJensen? Of course not,” he answered his own question quickly before Hunter could say anything. “Goddamn it, I’ve been trying to pass this joke of a twig of the family tree off for a long time, and I’m tired of it. I’m tired of the smirks and the eye rolls I get all the time when Bill introduces me to his society friends as his son. Everybody knows I’m really just an artificial limb.”
    “First of all,” Hunter said, “your nose isn’t the size of New Jersey.” He grinned. “It’s more like the size of Delaware, and what do you care? It’s never affected your ability to get women. The way they throw themselves at you always amazes me. Troy too. He told me that last fall when he was home. I think he was really jealous of you for that.”
    “That’s such a bunch of crap. He had absolutely nothing to ever be jealous of me for because—”
    “
Second
,” Hunter broke in loudly, “you’re wrong about Troy. He didn’t care about getting ink. I’ve never heard him talk himself up once, and this is coming from a guy whose brother is one of the biggest self-promoters of all time. Muhammad Ali was a modest man compared to my brother.” Hunter paused when he saw that Jack was actually listening. “Third and most important, Troy did care about you. He cared a lot about you. I know that for a fact because we had a long talk about it that last time he was home. He told me how you always took care of him on the playground when you two were kids, and how much he learned from you over the years. How in a way you were still taking care of him. Which I didn’t understand and he wouldn’t be specific about, but I could tell he was being real serious. He said he missed you a lot too.” Hunter paused again, giving Jack time to think about everything he’d just heard. “So I don’t like hearing you say that Troy got what he deserved. You’re a better man than that, Jack. A lot better. And Troy doesn’t deserve to have that said about him, especially not by you. Look, he was a hell of a guy, and I know it wasn’t easy havinghim as a brother because he was the real deal. Everybody idolized him, and that was tough for you. It would have been tough for anyone to deal with that. But he still ought to get better from you, especially now.”
    “I know,” Jack admitted softly. “I guess sometimes how different I am from everyone else in the family catches up to me.” He shook his head. “How different I am in