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Not My Hero

By Michelle Bolanger

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CHAPTER 1 - Donovan
(Thirteen Years Later)
I hurried through the parking garage, chugging a bottle of water as I loosened the velcro straps holding the tactical bag to my chest. Cooler air filtered through my damp shirt when I slid the pack off one shoulder and hit the elevator button.
I glanced at my watch and cursed. My half-sister, Marcey, would be fuming at my missed appointment. It was time for the annual trust payout, and she’d want to harass me about my life choices before releasing the funds. I cursed again.
"You really need to work on your language, man." Matt chuckled as he stopped beside me, also stripping out of his gear and dumping his bottle of water over the smooth skin of his head. "It's hotter than the devil's backside today."
"August in the Ohio Valley." I punched the button again and blinked as he shook the water off. "It's the perfect time for rope systems and Incident Command training."
We’d spent the day in Hocking Hills park doing recurrent training to maintain our search and rescue technician status. My shoulders and hands ached from sinking taps, tying off ropes, and hauling litters up and down sheer rock faces. Added to taking command of half the participants and being responsible for organizing and routing them for nine hours didn’t leave much brain power to handle the pending conversation with my sister.
"You know that doesn't make it go faster." Matt wiped his face on the hem of his shirt as I hit the button again. "Why the rush?"
The doors groaned open, and I reached for the floor button before I was all the way inside. "I'm supposed to be on a phone call right now." I adjusted the pack and polished off the last of the water.
"With who?" He looked at his watch. "It's 5 o'clock. You never take calls this late."
"Marcey scheduled it at 10 o'clock her time." The elevator dinged with each floor, and I squeezed through as soon as it opened. I jogged down the quiet hall and into the executive office suite someone decided I should have. I didn't care. A desk and a computer were all I needed.
A folding table and chair had been good enough for Dad to build the company on, and I'd argued I didn't need anything more to keep it running, but the trust board insisted a high rise building and expensive furnishings would give us credibility with the city. Dad would have refused.
Evan Taylor always seemed larger than life, and he had been my world. He taught me how to fly a chopper, how to read a topographical map, and how to trust Jesus for everything else. When he and Mom went down in a private plane over the Appalachian Mountains, I insisted on leading the search team. Due to storms and landslides, it took us two days to locate and reach the crash site. When it became clear they had survived the crash, but died of exposure, I made it my mission to decrease response times and channeled all the funds I could into a full-time search and rescue operation.
By the time I turned twenty-five, I had fifteen employees, three choppers, and four pilots on standby. I established 503(c) status and began garnering private donations. I used a large portion of the trust allotment I was given each year as a charitable donation to the corporation. All had gone well, until Marcey found out what I'd been doing with the money and threatened to get the annual payment stopped unless I moved to England.
Thus far she had been unsuccessful, but it hadn't stopped her from trying every time I ticked her off. Today wouldn't help.
The annual allotment was due to be paid out next week, and the phone call I was about to miss would confirm the amount and go over the financials for the rest of the year.
I reminded myself that between what Dad and Mom had left me and the company earnings, missing the allotment this year wouldn't shut us down, but it would hurt, and the board wouldn't be happy.
The phone was ringing when I switched on the light and dropped my pack on the floor. Slinging the rig vest over my head, I let it fall with a thud and reached around the desk to swipe up the phone.
I blew out a hard breath and thumbed the screen to answer.
"This is Donovan."
"And this was supposed to be a conference call with the attorney twenty minutes ago," Marcey seethed. "I've been working on these reports for hours, and I paid for them to work late to accommodate your schedule. Do you know how much that cost?"
I propped the phone against the lamp and sat behind the desk. "I'm sure it isn't cheap, and I apologize." I caught a glimpse of myself in the dark phone screen and winced, glad it wasn't a video call. Sweat still slicked my hair to my forehead, and somehow, I had a smear of grease down one cheek. Marcey would be appalled.
"Are the reports uploaded to the portal? I can login and sign off on them now." I pulled the laptop across the desk. "We've been over these reports before. I don't need the attorney to go line by line with me. I trust you've already done that with him. I've told him before; he can simply email me when the allotment is being sent."
"If you'd been on the call, you would know the allotments are being delayed until we can get confirmation of the other beneficiary's status."
My fingers froze above the keyboard. "What?"
"Our attorney hasn't been able to contact Geoff or his attorney, and until that happens the payments have been halted."
Not being able to contact my cousin, Geoff, wasn't really a surprise. It shouldn't have stopped anything.
"Those forms are nothing but a formality." I leaned back, staring at the ceiling in frustration.
"The forms have to be signed by all of us or the funds can't be distributed outside the country. You know this, Donnie." Condescension dripped from her words, and her use of my childhood nickname set my teeth on edge. She sighed. "If you’d just come home this would be much easier."
"Have you forgotten that I am home?" I didn't try to keep the bitterness from my voice.
"You and I know that's not your fault," she replied. "Besides, you can make it right anytime you want."
I stared at the phone incredulously.
"I don't know why you haven't at least returned the documents for dual citizenship," she continued. "They were included in the trust package I sent weeks ago. All you have to do is sign them and the payments won't have to go through all this international red tape." I opened my mouth to interrupt, but she was on a roll. "The lawyers assured me that your little company can maintain its American owned status, but I don't know why you're so attached to it anyway. It's not like another charity shelter will make any difference in that worn out town you call a city in Ohio."
I closed my eyes and momentarily tuned out her voice. Defending my city would only lead to another argument, and frankly, I was learning not to care what she thought.
"In New York or LA maybe you'd make a real difference, but..." Marcey broke off with a long-suffering exhale. "I'll send over the report as soon as I get it back from our lawyers."
I ground my teeth. "Your lawyers, not mine. And what are you looking for?"
"It is just a precaution to make sure no one has violated the conditions of the trust, of course."
I shoved a hand through my hair. "Why? It's our rightful inheritance. What are you looking for?"
"I'm looking out for the trust funds, Donovan. That's why they named me as trustee. I have a fiduciary responsibility to make sure the funds are managed responsibly. It's what I'm paid to do." She went silent for a long moment, and when she spoke again, ice coated her tone. "Our grandfather worked his entire life to provide for this family. He did not allow it to be squandered on prostitutes and criminals, and neither will I!"
I gritted my teeth as my vision tinged red at what she and our grandfather believed about my mother. They both knew the truth about her past but refused to acknowledge it.
I stood and paced to the window. Across the street, construction of the new women’s shelter and apartments was nearly complete. The enormity of the project reminded me that the family trust wasn't my primary focus.
Besides, the income and stability the navigation and communications company Dad founded and left to me funded the project and gave me a net worth that already meant I was close to the top of the wealthiest people in Ohio. Building the shelter and providing accompanying support for the homeless community was something I was proud of. Marcey couldn't take any of it from me. Letting her do what she wanted with the trust wouldn't change anything here.
"Fine." I relented. "Do what you think is right."
"You know that's all I ever want to do." A breath puffed through her nose as pages shuffled. I rubbed my temple. "And I have the wedding to finalize.” Her voice changed as if a switch had been thrown, excitement and happiness replacing the cold control in less than a breath. “I’ll need to know how long and where you are planning to stay during the preparations. The guest room is still available for the month up to the wedding, but the two weeks after, Ashton's parents are taking their holiday here while we are on honeymoon. I am sure Tabitha would let you stay in her guest house."
Struggling to follow her rapid change of subject, I dropped back into my chair at the desk and pulled the laptop toward me. "I already told you; I'll be there the day before the rehearsal. I'll stay a few days, but I have to be back here before the end of the month."
She huffed impatiently. "That's not going to be long enough. The attorney says you need to be here for the --"
"No," I said firmly. "I explained this. I can't be out of the country for six weeks, Marcey. Not with the new facility opening."
"You're just being stubborn,” she snapped.
I barked a laugh. "I learned it from you."
She hummed in agreement. "At least I taught you something useful."
A swift knock was followed by Matt's head poking around the office door. I waved him in, glad for a way out of the call.
"Come in, Mr. Copper," I said formally, and Matt raised a brow. "My appointment is here, Marcey." He scowled at her name and started to back out, but I glared and pointed at the chair in front of my desk. "I'm just finishing this call, I’m ready to go over the report," I said then mouthed, Help me!
Matt covered his mouth with a hand to stifle his choked laugh, but sat across from me.
"Can't you postpone..." Marcey protested.
"Thank you for the update, Sis." I cut her off. "I'll be in touch soon. Good-bye."
I thumbed the screen to end the call and dropped my head onto the back of the chair.
"Family bonding going well?" Matt crossed his legs and laid a small stack of folders on his lap.
"Oh, yeah." I chuckled. "Anything new?"
"Only that the contracts with Hamilton and Clermont counties were renewed." He held up the top folder. "They need your signature."
At least something had gone right today.

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