Chapter 4

I’d had to look twice, but it was definitely him. He’d filled out, and the scrawny look he’d had all those years ago was gone. He was obviously older, bigger, and he’d lost his long hair. But here he was, the object of my hatred for the past fifteen years.

Because of him, my brother couldn’t walk. Because of him, my brother had spent years in rehab. Because of him, my brother had spent most of his life in a wheelchair.

How could I ever forgive him?

I took hold of his arm and spun him around, making sure, but when I saw the resignation on his face, he knew it was me. He knew I was here.

“You,” I said through gritted teeth. “You bastard.”

“Let go of me,” he whispered, tearing his arm from my grasp. “You’re making a scene.”

“I don’t care.” I spat out the words. Years I’d waited to confront the fucking coward. He’d run that night, never once returning to see how his best friend was.

“Mr Fletcher,” he hissed. I could see the anger burning in his eyes. “I have a client, and I’ll be more than happy to meet with you after I’m done. Now if you don’t mind.”

Shocked by his calm demeanour, I stepped back as he turned to his client.

“Shall we go?” He held out his arm, and the woman, who had observed the exchange with shock, stood and took it.

She leant heavily on him, and he glared at me as he walked past, clearly not happy with the situation. I guess I could have handled it better, but years of pent-up emotions had taken over.

“Who was that man?” I heard her ask.

“An old acquaintance. Nobody to worry yourself about.” He glanced over his shoulder as he walked away.

“Meet me outside the front in an hour.”

I nodded and watched as he walked away, and despite the rage I felt, I couldn’t help but notice his build. No longer skinny, he had broad shoulders with a tapered waist and thick thighs straining against the fabric of his trousers.

I pushed the thoughts down. This was the man I hated, and I needed to remember that. I returned to my table and collected my belongings before heading back to my room.

After an hour, I made my way outside and sat on a bench overlooking the gardens. This was such a beautiful place, and I dreaded to think how much this was costing. Well, costing the company. I’d set one up to take care of the sponsorship deals I made from the products I endorsed in the movies.

My heart raced, and I closed my eyes. I breathed deeply, centring myself for the inevitable confrontation.

I’d not got a good look at his face, too enraged at his presence to notice, but it’d be interesting to see how he’d fared in the intervening years.

Working here, he’d no doubt lived a charmed life. Having it all while Robbie suffered.

My pulse quickened at the thought. I stood, unable to sit still, and paced back and forth.

“Fucking bastard. I bet he’s had everything fall in his lap,” I muttered. “I bet he’s never done a hard day’s work in his life.”

“You don’t know my life.” I’d not heard him approach, too lost in my own thoughts.

“How could you leave?” Rage and loathing burnt through me, and a red mist descended. All rational thought left me.

He might be big…but I was bigger.

I threw a punch, satisfied when it connected with his face.

“What the fuck?” He backed away, rubbing his jaw.

I charged and slammed into him with my shoulder, this time knocking him to the ground. I stood over him, my chest heaving. All the hatred I felt bubbled to the surface.

“Get up.” I wiped the saliva from my chin with the back of my hand. I wasn’t done with him.

“What? So you can beat seven bells of shit out of me? I don’t think so.”

He stayed on the ground, checking his lip with his fingers for blood.

I hadn’t hit him that hard, but it hadn’t been for want of trying. He deserved more than I’d given him.

“Get. Up.”

“No. I stood up to you fifteen years ago, and I’ll do it again. I’m not the boy I was.”

He definitely wasn’t.

“You left your best friend for dead. Ran away like the coward you are.”

“You threatened me with the police.” His voice rose, and he scrambled to his feet.

“It was your fault.” I stepped closer, standing toe to toe. Chest to chest.

“Back off,” he hissed. “Your brother made his choice.”

“I’ll not go there again with you. It was your fault. You brought the drink; you dared him to do it, knowing what he was like.”

“Robbie could have said no,” he stood with his arms out to the side.

“Fuck off, Duke. He idolised you.”

I still hadn’t moved, and the scent of him hit my nose. A mixture of rosemary and lavender.

I flared my nostrils and inhaled deeply, drinking him in.

“What do you want from me?” he asked.

Some emotion? Compassion? To ask how he was?

“He’s endured years of his suffering. Going from appointment to appointment. Do you even care how he’s doing?”

At least he had the temerity to look ashamed.

“I know it’s not been easy.” He stepped back, out of my space. What the hell did he know about easy?

“What the fuck do you know?” I could spend hours detailing every bit of treatment Robbie had endured. The tears, the tantrums, the times he’d asked me to take his life, to end his suffering.

Duke Anders had ruined everything, and I could never forgive him.

“I know he’ll never walk again,” he said quietly.

“Like you care.” I clenched my fists by my side, trying my best not to lash out again. Not that I had a reputation to keep, but this was a public setting. I took a deep breath and tried to calm my temper.

Duke had probably planned it this way, and in a way, I couldn’t blame him.

“Of course I fucking care. He was my best friend.” Tears filled his eyes. Fucking crocodile tears. He didn’t care. He probably never had.

“He’s not dead,” I yelled, feeling my heart race. “He’s living and breathing and trying so fucking hard to keep it together. He never blamed you, you know? Always said it was an accident. But I knew better.”

“Robbie knew his own mind. I never forced him to do anything he didn’t want to. You know who he was trying to impress? Who he tried to be all the fucking time?”

The colour in his cheeks rose along with his voice.

“You! It was always you,” I shouted, my voice full of emotion.

“You’re wrong, Simon. He worshipped the ground you walked on. Always talking about how he wanted to be like you. Like his big brother. Every single thing he did was to please you and you alone.”

“What the fuck was he doing on the roof?” Why had he done it?

“I dared him. Are you satisfied? That was my fault, and I’ve carried around the guilt of that night every single fucking day since.” Finally, some emotion.

I dropped to my knees, exhausted by the exchange.

Gone was Simon Stroker, confident porn star, a man who took what he wanted when he wanted.

In his place was me, Simon Fletcher, failed son and brother.

“What in God’s name is going on?”

A clipped voice shouted from the doorway, and a well-dressed man walked towards us. Duke blanched and stood off to the side, increasing the distance between us.

I stood, managing to tear my eyes away from the object of my fury and focused on the man who had joined us.

“Mr Anders. Would you mind telling me what on earth is happening here? All I could hear was shouting, and this is not the place to do that.”

From his words and demeanour, I assumed it was Duke’s boss, maybe even the owner.

“It was a misunderstanding, Mr. Carr. It won’t happen again.”

“I should hope not. Please apologise to our guest and meet me in my office at three.”

He turned on his heel and walked back inside, leaving us alone yet again.

“Fuck,” Duke said, rubbing his face and kicking up the gravel on the drive.

If I was a caring person, I might have told him not to worry, that everything was going to be okay, but I was no longer that man. I hated him with a passion that burnt so hard I didn’t care if he lost his job. He deserved none of the good things in life.

Was that harsh? Fucking too right it was. I’d never forgiven him and never would. I’d grown hard over the years. Gone was the joking big brother. I’d had to steel myself against the fucking awful thing that had happened to my family. I’d thrown myself into my job, fucking and being fucked, not giving a shit about anyone but Robbie.

It had almost fallen apart. Mum and Dad struggled financially. They understandably wanted the best for Robbie, and I did what I could to give them that.

“Look, I’ll stay out of your way for the rest of your stay,” he said, “as long as you stay out of mine. I am truly sorry for what happened to Robbie.” He walked towards the front door. I couldn’t help but have the last word.

“Run away, like you did before. You’re still a fucking coward. You couldn’t face up to it then, and you can’t stand up to me now.”

He paused, and I watched his shoulders flex beneath his shirt; his hands clenched and unclenched. I guessed I’d hit a nerve.

But if I wanted another argument, I was disappointed, and he ran up the steps to the front door without a backward glance.

Other than him admitting his part in Robbie’s accident, I’d learnt nothing more about him and what had happened.

Why did I care, though?

Why was I bothered about his life? I couldn’t explain it, but I’d never forgotten him, and each time Robbie had gone through another bout of painful therapy or he’d whispered his deepest thoughts to me in the middle of the night, my hatred had burnt deeper.

Robbie had never been to blame. I knew that down in my soul.

What to do now, though? The age-old question—should I stay, or should I go?

Could I honestly stay, knowing he was here? As much as I’d felt this was a place I could relax, him being here had ruined it for me.

I needed to call Dexter.

I made it back to my room with no further incident. I chucked my holdall on the bed and threw the few clothes I’d brought with me into it, not even bothering to fold them.

Fucking Duke Anders.

I had to admit he’d looked good. He’d grown into his looks, and a long-forgotten feeling resurfaced. I refused to be attracted to the man, as attractive as he was.

After packing, I took my phone from the safe, walked onto the balcony and called Dexter.

“Hey, I’m gonna need the car early. Can you get it here today?”

“What’s up? I thought we agreed you’d stay there for a week?”

“Something came up. I can’t stay here.” Dexter knew about my brother; he knew my reasons for what I did, but I’d never told him about the circumstances behind Robbie’s accident.

“We’ve paid for a week. Stay there. Take some time to chill and relax. What could possibly make you want to leave there?”

“Personal reasons.”

“What? You’ve fucked one of the staff already?” He laughed, and any other time, he might have been right.

“No. I might have got into a brawl with one.”

“What the fuck, Simon?”

I moved the phone away from my ear, not wanting to hear the tirade he was no doubt going on.

“Are you done?” I asked when the line went quiet.

“Did you hear a word of what I said?” he asked.

“Not one. Just get me out of here.”

“You’re not coming back to work. I told you. You need rest. You’ve been working yourself to death lately.”

“If you don’t get me out of here, I will walk to the nearest train station. Now get me the fuck out of here, Dexter. Do what I fucking pay you for.”

I knew I was being an asshole, but I couldn’t stay in the same hotel as that coward.

“Okay, okay. I’ll have a car with you tomorrow. It’s the best I can do. You’ll just have to suck up whatever it is you’ve done for one more day. Can you do that?”

Could I? I guess it wouldn’t kill me, and as long as I stayed inside my room, I wouldn’t run the risk of running into Duke.

“Fine,” I said, making it damn clear it really wasn’t.

I hung up and flopped back onto the bed, putting my hands behind my head. I gazed up at the ceiling, wondering what the hell I was going to do until the car arrived.

Fuck, I was bored already, and it had only been five minutes. Maybe I could take a walk through the grounds?

Yeah, I could do that.

I slipped my phone in my pocket and left the room, skipping down the stairs. I didn’t want anyone to see me.

I managed to escape into the garden. The sun was still high in the sky, and I stripped off my shirt. A bit of vitamin D never hurt anyone. I had the type of skin that didn’t burn but tanned easily.

I’d not really seen much of the building and decided to do a bit of exploring.

It was a big house, probably eighteenth century by the looks of it. I might be a porn star, but I knew stuff. I didn’t spend all my time having sex, although some probably thought I did.

I had a house, did laundry, and I loved to cook.

Deer wandered on the edge of the woods, and I wished I had my camera with me. Another thing I loved was photography. I took out my phone and snapped a few pictures. They wouldn’t be brilliant—the animals were a little too far away—but when I checked them, they were okay.

I walked around the rear of the house, snapping photos on my phone, checking each one. An archway leading into some sort of secret garden caught my eye, and I framed it as best I could, zooming in on a wrought-iron gate at the end of the garden. That’d make a great print.

I checked the picture and zoomed in, looking at the detail I’d managed to capture, and almost dropped my phone in shock.

There, leaning against a tree, was Duke, but he wasn’t alone.

Was that the receptionist? I zoomed in again, cursing when it went out of focus. There was no mistaking them, though.

There was the lovely Holly, with Duke’s dick shoved down her throat, his hands clutching either side of her head, his own head thrown back in ecstasy.

Well, now that was a turn-up for the books.

I contemplated standing to watch. I wasn’t embarrassed, far from it, but a pang of something akin to jealousy hit me.

I might have hated the guy, but it didn’t mean I didn’t want to fuck him six ways until Sunday. I took one last look, chuckling to myself, and let myself back into the house.

The sooner I was out of here, the better.