Chapter 17 - THE LAST CROSS BROTHERJulian’s escape lasted nineteen hours.
He stole a federal marshal’s jacket, abandoned it near Indiana, hijacked a delivery truck, and reached an old Cross family cabin near Lake Geneva.
Arthur located him through a mistake.
Julian used a credit card belonging to their late father.
“He’s sentimental,” Carol said.
Nathaniel shook his head.
“He’s arrogant.”
“Same thing in your family.”
Nathaniel gave her a look.
They drove north with federal agents.
Carol stayed at the estate this time.
Voluntarily.
Nathaniel kissed her before leaving.
“No burning warehouses.”
“Promise.”
“No getting kidnapped.”
“I’ll try.”
“No heroic stupidity.”
Nathaniel frowned.
“That category is vague.”
“Arthur knows what I mean.”
Arthur nodded.
“Extremely well.”
At the lake cabin, Julian sat alone beside the fireplace.
No hostage.
No army.
No escape plan.
Just a bottle of whiskey and Malcolm Cross’s old photograph.
Nathaniel entered unarmed.
Julian looked up.
“You brought the government.”
“They insisted.”
Julian smiled.
“Carol?”
“Safe.”
“I underestimated her.”
“Everybody does.”
Julian poured another drink.
“You came to arrest me.”
“I came to understand why you escaped.”
Julian looked toward the fire.
“Because prison is boring.”
“Try again.”
Silence.
Nathaniel saw exhaustion.
Not strategy.
Not rage.
Defeat.
Julian whispered, “Mother visited me.”
Nathaniel frowned.
“When?”
“Before the transfer.”
“What did she say?”
“That she spent fourteen years trying to save me.”
Nathaniel sat across from him.
“She did.”
“That’s worse.”
“Why?”
“Because I spent fourteen years telling myself nobody wanted me.”
Nathaniel watched him.
Julian laughed bitterly.
“Do you remember Father teaching us to sail?”
“Yes.”
“You were terrified.”
“I was eight.”
“You cried.”
“I did not.”
“You absolutely cried.”
Nathaniel smiled faintly.
Julian did too.
For one second, they were brothers again.
Then Julian’s expression collapsed.
“I hated you.”
“I know.”
“Every time Father praised you, I hated you.”
“I know.”
“I wanted your company.”
Nathaniel shook his head.
“No.”
Julian frowned.
“You wanted Father to regret choosing me.”
Julian stared.
Nathaniel continued.
“The company was just proof.”
Tears filled Julian’s eyes.
“I wasted my life.”
Nathaniel said nothing.
“I helped Richard Hale steal. I frightened workers. David died because I was too afraid to expose Everett.”
“You could have stopped it.”
“I know.”
“You could have come home.”
“I know.”
Julian reached into his coat.
Nathaniel tensed.
Julian placed a pistol on the table.
“I thought about ending it.”
Nathaniel slowly took the gun.
“Don’t.”
“Why?”
“Because dying isn’t accountability.”
Julian looked at him.
Nathaniel stood.
“You want to do one decent thing?”
“What?”
“Tell prosecutors everything.”
“Mother’s investigation already has most of it.”
“Then confirm it.”
Julian laughed.
“You really became soft.”
Nathaniel smiled.
“Apparently.”
Outside, federal agents waited.
Julian stood.
“Will Carol ever forgive me?”
“No.”
He nodded.
“Should she?”
“No.”
Julian almost smiled.
“Still honest.”
Nathaniel opened the door.
Julian stopped beside him.
“Take care of the little girl.”
Nathaniel’s eyes hardened.
“Her name is Ivy.”
“I know.”
“Then say it.”
Julian swallowed.
“Take care of Ivy.”
Nathaniel nodded.
Julian surrendered peacefully.
No gunfire.
No chase.
No final betrayal.
Just a broken man stepping into the consequences of his choices.
Three months later, Julian accepted a federal plea agreement requiring full cooperation.
Richard Hale faced racketeering, attempted murder, bribery, kidnapping conspiracy, and obstruction charges.
Vanessa was declared competent to stand trial.
Everett Sloan pleaded guilty to David Bennett’s murder.
Chicago’s political landscape erupted.
Eleven officials resigned.
Four judges were investigated.
Two police commanders were indicted.
Cross Industries survived.
Barely.
Its stock fell thirty-seven percent.
Nathaniel didn’t care.
He sold several luxury assets to stabilize employee pensions.
The private jet went first.
Carol stared at him when he announced it.
“You sold your plane?”
“Yes.”
“How will you survive?”
He sighed.
“Commercial first class.”
Carol pretended horror.
“My God.”
Ivy ran into the room.
“Daddy, can regular airplanes have snacks?”
Nathaniel looked at Carol.
“This is what my life has become.”
Carol kissed him.
“A tragedy.”
He pulled her close.
For the first time, the Cross family name no longer felt like a burden Nathaniel had to defend.
May you like
It was simply a name.
And names, he had learned, mattered far less than the people who carried them.
