Chapter 3

I shotRiley a text after my shift was over that I was gonna be home late. I knew he had questions, but luckily, he didn’t ask them. He was busy gettin” ready for work anyway.

I wasn’t gonna do anything stupid, but I couldn’t let what that asshole did go completely. If there was a slight chance he had any of the money left, I needed to take it. Plus, he couldn’t fuck with Riley like that. I had words for him. And maybe some fists.

Dad lived in a shitty rent-by-the-month room in a boarding house toward the outskirts of the city. It was supposed to be drug free, but no one monitored them so it was basically a drug den. As long as they paid their rent, the landlord didn’t care. And because Ri and I were fuckin’ suckers, Dad’s rent was always paid on time. I kept reasoning to myself it was better to pay it than him tryin’ to live at our place even if deep down, I knew I was just an enablin’ piece of shit who still remembered the man before he lost himself to grief, drugs, and booze. Yeah, he was always a bit of an asshole, but he’d loved us once. I was pretty sure anyway.

I got off at the bus stop about half a mile away from the boarding house. There was one closer, but I needed to walk to get out of my head before I saw the fucker.

It wasn’t cold, but I felt a chill deep down in my bones, one that even my hoodie and my hands in my pockets wasn’t gonna help.

Finally, I reached the building. It looked as rundown on the outside as it was on the inside. Most people who walked down the street probably thought it was an abandoned building. I stood in front of it, as I tried to calm my nerves. It wasn’t that I was nervous about confronting the shithead, but I was afraid today would be the day that I’d lose it and kill him. The temptation got stronger with every time he failed us. But I didn’t want to catch charges and leave Riley alone. I had to remind myself of that, sometimes.

Fuck it, let’s get this shit over with.I walked up the cracked path, and ignored the overgrown weeds and dead grass. The porch steps were a fuckin’ hazard, and I skipped the third step out of habit.

The door wasn’t locked, there was no fuckin’ point, so I pushed it open and braced myself for the smell. It was the first thing I always noticed when I came over here. Nobody ever cleaned this place. As soon as I walked in, I nearly tripped over a woman who was passed out in the entryway.

“Fucking Christ.” There was a guy sittin’ on the floor a few feet away. He was swaying and his eyes were glassed over like he was in another world, but he was breathing.

“Is she alive?” I asked him.

The guy shrugged. “I think so.”

I guessed it was good enough. I stepped over her and headed right for the stairs. I couldn’t be in this place longer than I had to be.

The stairs inside weren’t in any better shape than the ones outside. The wood was rotted and there were actual holes big enough for your foot to get caught in. This place wasn’t even worth the fuckin’ rent we paid for it. And we didn’t pay a lot.

There were more people in the hallway. I ignored them and went to the room that was supposed to be Dad’s. I didn’t bother knocking and pushed it open with way more force than was necessary.

I was kinda shocked to see him there. It was always hit or miss whether he’d actually be home when I showed up. What wasn’t surprising was him passed out in his own fuckin’ vomit. I was so sick of this shit.

I waded through the trash and stuff I didn’t even wanna think about until I got to where he was lying, and kicked him in the side hard. I didn’t know if I was relieved or disappointed when he grunted in pain. The guy was like a fuckin’ cockroach. He just wouldn’t die.

“Get up, Michael.”

“G’ way.”

“Yeah, not gonna happen. Let’s go. Up and at ‘em. You and me are gonna have a little chat.”

“Fuck you.”

“Real original. Let’s go.” I grabbed his arm and pulled him up. He grunted in shock but otherwise didn’t fight me as I literally dragged him across the floor and out into the hallway.

Michael Cooks used to be a good-looking guy. Hell, I looked a lot like him. We used to have the same dirty blonde hair and dark-blue eyes. We had the same nose, but mine never healed right after the second time it was broken. It should have been obvious we were related, but years of hard living had done a fuckin’ number on him.

He was so skinny that my fingers practically touched when they wrapped around his bicep. His bones were so brittle, I could probably snap his arm with one hand. So tempting.

“Get the fuck off me,” he slurred. I wasn’t sure if he was still high or just tryin’ to come back down. I didn’t care.

I didn’t let go as he half stumbled, half got dragged down the hallway and to the shared bathroom.

I wasn’t even gonna talk about the condition of it. It was fuckin’ disgusting. I was suddenly really grateful that Riley insisted we take care of our apartment, even if it was a shithole. At least it was livable.

Someone was on the toilet and screamed at us as we barged in. I ignored them and stalked right to the shower, where I cranked the cold water all the way up. I looked back down at my sperm donor who was panting on the floor and glared at me.

“Get in the shower, Michael. You fuckin’ reek.”

He spit by my feet. “Fuck you.”

“Is that all you know how to say?” I took his arm again and hauled him into the ice-cold water, clothes and all.

“Ahh! You fucking bitch!”

I rolled my eyes. “Shut up. Get fuckin’ clean.”

Dad used the faucet handles to pull himself up to stand. He was swayin’ but seemed steady enough on his feet. I backed up and leaned against the sink, arms folded across my chest, and waited.

For 5 fucking minutes, he just stood there in his soaked clothes and didn’t move. He didn’t try to get the water warmer, didn’t try to wash himself, nothin’. Finally, I took pity on him and shut it off. There was a towel crumbled up on the floor. I had no idea what it had been used for and it probably was crawlin’ with disease. I tossed it at his face.

“Dry yourself. Fuckin’ pathetic.”

It took a while to get Dad out of the bathroom and find him something dry to wear. Finally, though, we managed, and he went to lie down on his bed, his eyes immediately closing. Yeah, I didn’t fuckin’ think so.

I loomed over him and slapped him in his face. I grinned when his eyes flew open in rage.

“What the fuck was that for?” Oh, I don’t know, payback for all the times you hit Riley and me? I closed my eyes, so I didn’t fall down that path of thinking. I’d never be able to fuckin’ control myself if I did.

“Where is it, Michael?” I asked instead.

He blinked at me like I was the insane one here. “Where is what?”

Fuck, I wanted to hit him again. “Don’t fuckin’ lie to me. Where is the money you stole from us? Cause I know you did.”

He looked genuinely confused. For a second, I had doubt. Maybe it wasn’t him? But no, he was just so out of it, he probably couldn’t separate one time from any of the others.

“What money? I took a lotta money from a lotta people. It’s hard to keep track.” I scrubbed my face with my hands. Why the fuck did I even bother? This was just fuckin’ great. Who had he stolen from besides us? I didn’t need some fuckin’ drug dealer or bookie showin’ up at our apartment, lookin’ to collect the money he took.

“You drained Riley’s college bank account. I want that fuckin’ money.”

His eyes lit up in recognition. Ah, he did remember. Then he snorted and shrugged. “Always thought he was better than us,” he mumbled.

I squeezed my hands into fists and closed my eyes. Don’t kill him. Don’t kill him. He’s not worth the murder charge.

“Where. Is. The. Money?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know. Just go the fuck away.” Dad closed his eyes and turned away from me, apparently done with this conversation.

Well, I was done with him. My fist hit the wall before I realized what I was doing. There was an immediate dent in the thin ass drywall. I did it again, satisfied as my fist went right through it.

Dad didn’t bother sitting up, but he did scowl at me. “What the fuck was that for?”

“Lucky it wasn’t your goddamn face, Michael. I’m done with you.”

He just shrugged. “Good.”

“Don’t you dare come to Ri and me beggin’ for money when you can’t pay the rent on this dump. We’re not helpin’ you anymore.”

Dad shrugged. “I don’t need help from you, you fucking freak. Always had a hard-on for the kid.”

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? He meant Riley. He always did when he said shit like that.

The words made me sick, brought back things I never wanted to think about. I never, ever felt anything like that for Riley. He was my brother. I loved him, but it was fraternal. I took care of him. We were a team. The fact that he was implying anything else was disgusted me. It probably wasn’t even until the last few months that it hit me that he wasn’t a kid no more. And even then, I forgot just about every other day.

Memories flashed through my mind unbidden. Ones I wished would stay fuckin’ buried with they belonged. That this piece of shit would even imply I would ever be like that . . . I needed to get out of here.

“Go fuck yourself, Michael. Next time, I hope you fuckin’ choke on your own puke. It would be a fitting way for ya to finally go.”

I stormed out of the room, needin’ to get the fuck outta here now.

I couldn’t breathe. Even after I’d left that place and was on the street, my lungs fought me for every bit of air. With my eyes shut, I fumbled in the pocket of my hoodie until I found the baggie of pills I kept stashed there.

They were for anxiety. I didn’t take hard shit. Yeah, no thanks. Just cause I didn’t have a prescription didn’t mean it wasn’t necessary. Just, who could afford a fuckin’ doctor? And I wasn’t going to therapy. Been there, done that. Never fuckin’ again. I popped out two and took them dry. I needed to get my shit together so I could get home because I needed to see Riley. It was either that or takin’ a knife to my wrists. But I promised Ri I wouldn’t do that no more, which meant I needed eyes on him before I forgot about my promise. But if he saw me like this, he’d worry.

I walked around the shitty neighborhood until I was able to see clearly and some of that fog in my brain disappeared. I kept thinking about what Tim had said, how I’d zoned like a fuckin’ zombie. When I’d asked Riley about it, he’d admitted eventually that he’d noticed me doing it before too. I had to stop it. I had enough fuckin’ baggage. Why was more piled on?

I finally made my way to the bus stop and eventually home. Guilt set as soon as I walked through the door and saw Riley pacing the floor.

“Beckett! Where the fuck have you been!” I didn’t get a chance to answer before I had all 5’8” of him in my arms, nearly bowlin’ me over.

“Easy, butterfly. I’m fine.” I buried my face in his hair, my favorite place to be. Maybe Dad was right. Maybe I was fuckin’ sick because the second I had Riley in my arms, everything felt better. All the shit, all the issues, they felt beatable when I was holding Riley. Challenges that had been impossible to fight just seconds ago seemed like nothin’. It was my reminder I had something to fight for.

I kicked the door shut and half carried Riley back to the couch, where he immediately climbed into my lap, his hands clawed at me like he was trying to get into my skin.

I tried to think back, Dad’s words runnin’ through my mind. We didn’t have a normal relationship clearly. I understood that. We still shared a damn bed for chrissakes. Growin’ up the way we did, of course we were gonna cling to each other. It was all we had. But Ri was my little brother. I would never, ever do anything to make him uncomfortable. And the shit Dad had implied? God, he was a fuckin’ kid. Or he was. What the fuck was wrong with that man? We were both just doin’ the best we could.

“Where were you, Becks?” he finally asked, voice full of worry about my answer.

“I went to see Dad. He didn’t remember what he did with the money.”

Riley snorted. “Of fucking course.” He looked up at me. “You know you don’t have to do that to yourself, right?”

I squeezed Riley tighter, and forced myself to stay present.

“I love you, Becks,” he finally said when I didn’t answer. “It’s you and me forever, right?”

I kissed his head. “Always, butterfly. Fuckin’ forever.”