Richard, nervous about what he was going to find when he showed up at the hotel, had paused to recruit soone to help him.
His sister.
Rose, despite being the oldest, was the most dramatic when it ca to offering assistance. While she had always helped when asked, she did always make a big fuss of it. It was why Richard, and Andrew, didn’t ask her for help often during their childhood.
Neither of them had wanted to put up with her theatrics.
However, this was not like their childhood, and Richard didn’t want to turn to his parents in fear that what they found in the hotel room was truly, terribly, not good. He wasn’t expecting to find a body. Dear god, that would be the worst thing he could even imagine, but hearing the despair in Maxwell’s voice had dug up a mory from around the ti that Andrew’s Mom had passed.
Andrew, at a party, smiling and laughing while he had a drink in his hand. But Richard saw the way he looked at the liquor bottles nearby. He also rembered that that was one of the few parties that Andrew had attended where he hadn’t told Richard he was going, but both had ended up at the sa party.
Andrew had been surprised to see him there, and Richard was surprised to see how...wasted he had already been by the ti that he got there, but the people around him had not been surprised. Andrew’s admittance that he had done things in England, also brought these thoughts to the forefront of his mind as he rode the elevator up to the room number Maxwell had said with Rose by his side.
She was on the phone, dealing with so last minute business. She had joked, and complained at first when he’d called her in the middle of the workday, but when he told her that he hadn’t spoken to Andrew for two days, and things seed to not be going well between him and Maxwell, she had stopped joking entirely.
She hung up the phone, the elevator still moving. Her heels tapped the tile in the elevator, her arms crossing as she waited. The blazer she wore was in sharp contrast to the rumbled, flustered state that Richard was in.
"Do you think he fled again?" Rose asked. It was a fair question. He, as far as they knew, now had unlimited money. Andrew could go anywhere, thanks to his Mom. Richard just hoped that wasn’t the case. He fiddled with his fingers, glancing around as the numbers kept going higher and higher. God, what kind of room did Andrew get?
"I hope not." Richard replied. Rose grunted, her gaze also watching the numbers go up until a ding resounded inside the small space, and the box ca to a halt. The doors opened, and both Rose and Richard left at the sa ti. Checking what direction the room was in, Rose took the lead, sothing that Richard was grateful for. He was already nervous as it was, and she was known as the aggressor in their family. After their Mom, of course.
"How fucking bad was it?" Rose asked quietly and Richard sighed.
"Maxwell was crying." Richard murmured quietly and Rose scoffed, giving him a strange look.
"He’s an oga." She said, and Richard jerked. No matter what, he hadn’t been able to get rid of that prejudice, and he blad her work environnt the most. He clenched his hand tightly.
"Rosie, you rember how I described Maxwell before you t him in person, right? Cold, calculated, would sell your soul if he thought it would make a profit? The kind of man who ate the alphas you worked with for breakfast and sat out their bones to give back to their mothers? Not a single remorseful bone in his body? That’s the Maxwell Beckett I know. You need to forget who you saw at dinner the other night. I think that version is only for Andy, and we were blessed to see a different side of him because we’re important to him." Richard mumbled the last part, his footsteps getting less sure as they got closer to the hotel room.
Rose glanced back at him, her expression stern.
"And they had a bad enough fight that Andrew basically told him that they were over?" She whispered and Richard’s jaw tightened, before he nodded.
"From what I’ve gathered, he basically implied that either Andrew was like the other alphas, or made Andrew have to clarify that he was not like other alphas. I think it’s a lot more complicated than that, because Maxwell basically spiraled, but yeah. That’s the gist of it, I think." Richard told her quietly, as the siblings slowed as they realised they were in front of the door that Maxwell had told them.
Richard didn’t doubt that he was correct, since shortly after Richard had left the building he received a confirmation text with Andrew’s current known location and the address of the hotel, as well as the room number that Maxwell had rattled off when he’d been sobbing.
"Okay, so pretty fucking bad if Andrew of all people had to say they were not in a good spot." Richard nodded. Both of them stood in front of the door, unmoving.
"Are you going to knock?" Richard asked, and Rose scoffed.
"If I knock, he’ll know sothing is up. You knock."
"No, you knock."
"No. You knock."
"Rosie, just knock on the fucking door!" Richard spat, his nerves getting the best of him. Rose stuck her tongue out at her younger brother, before leaning in, and knocking on the door. She made three, quick knocks on the door before stepping back in alignnt with Richard.
They both held their breaths, waiting.
At first, they heard nothing, but then they began to hear sothing beyond the door. Specifically, Rose could. She frowned as her hearing picked up the stumbling, the running into objects, before the lock slid back, and the door was carefully opened.
Rose, not wasting any ti, stepped forward and flung the door open, pushing forward with a stern expression as Richard entered after her, his expression less stern and full of concern.
The room was dark, but that couldn’t hide the stench of liquor. Pungent, awful, the sll of yeast mixed with sothing even more sour filled the air and Richard coughed.
Andrew, himself, did not look better. He was wearing the sa shirt he had on on Monday, but with considerable wear and tear. Richard didn’t even want to think about what those stains on his shirt were, and he wasn’t wearing pants. He was still wearing socks, but that was it. His hair was a ss, he looked like he needed to shave, and his eyes were dilated, hazy.
He was drunk. He was very, very drunk, and Rose let out a disgusted noise.
"Open a window, Richard. My nose stings." Rose ordered. Richard, having the less sensitive senses out of the trio, moved to open not just the window, but to also let so light in. He nearly tripped over empty bottles on his way there, but he managed to get to the windows to throw them open.
Andrew groaned, covering his face like a monster seeing light for the first ti, while Rose stared at him disapprovingly.
"Really, Andrew? This is what you do when things don’t go your way?" Rose asked, taunting him, but it was clear that Andrew wasn’t able to hear her. He swayed on his feet, barely able to look at him. Richard had no idea where his glasses were, and that was his first task to look for after he opened the window.
That, and his phone.
"He’s not able to hear you Rosie." Richard muttered, scanning the area. She huffed, waving her hand in front of her nose in disgust.
"I can see that. At the very least, we know his isn’t fleeing the country." She retorted, but Richard could feel her relief. He knew, because he felt relief too, even if he found Andrew in this state.
"Who’re you?" Andrew mumbled, and it was like they were talking to soone they had never t. Andrew had never been like this with them, and before either of them could answer, a goofy smile touched his lips. "Are you here to deliver alcohol?" He slurred, and Rose frowned.
"Did you call for more alcohol?" She asked and he nodded.
"Yessir." He slurred and Richard ignored him in favour of the phone he found shattered near the bed. It didn’t appear intentional. It actually looked as if Andrew had grabbed it, forgetting his strength, and had squeezed it too tightly. That, and it also appeared dead. His glasses appeared to have t much the sa fate.
"Well, this explains why I couldn’t get through to him." Richard held up the phone for Rose to see, and she grunted.
"Ah. Well, can’t say I haven’t done the sa. Rose muttered, staring at the man who was grinning at her, leaning against a wall for support who reeked to high heaven. "We can’t take him in a cab." She muttered and Richard sighed.
"Yeah, or your car." Richard comnted and Rose scrunched up her nose, nodding. Jordan had a rather sensitive nose, much like Maxwell, and could not handle those kinds of scents for prolonged periods of ti.
"Do we have another solution?" She asked and Richard sighed heavily, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. When he’d gotten the text earlier, they had also sent him another phone number to call if they needed a ride, or help with anything.
"Yeah, but I’m just worried about where we should take him. Do we take him to either of our places, his house, or...Mom and Dad?" Richard offered nervously. Rose let out a dark, evil laugh.
"Oh, you know what my vote is."
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