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“But you weren’t doing it for money?”
“No, Ares. I wasn’t.” He appeared frustrated, terse. He brought his palms to his eyes again. “You probably think I’m crazy.”
I didn’t, but I did want to understand. “You said you liked it?”
Something akin to shame hit my brother’s eyes when he drew his palms away. He stamped his blunt out, then brought his arms around his legs. “It kept me distracted. Whenever I closed my eyes, I got nightmares and shit.” He faced me. “Nightmares about everything that happened in high school. What I did?”
I lost his gaze before I could respond to that, his lips turned down.
“Fighting gives me a high. A rush.” He rubbed his arms. “It just feels… good.”
He didn’t look at me and more of that shame hit his eyes. He cringed, but I didn’t. Again, I was listening.
“You know, I don’t regret what I did,” he said, finally looking at me. His eyes were red, his face the same. He shook his head. “I don’t regret one bit removing the guy from the world who hurt our sister.”
Chills hit me, but not because of what he said. Our sibling’s kidnapper needed to die.
I just hated that Bru had to be the one to do it.
What happened in high school wasn’t so distant. I mean, it was my senior year, which wasn’t that long ago. My family found out who was responsible for taking Sloane from us. Once they had, they aimed for action, but the kid had just been faster. He was closer to the party who was responsible and saw an opportunity. He took the fucker out, doing what any of us would have found difficulty doing. That included myself. I would have done it too, but it would have been hard. Bruno Sloane-Mallick had taken a life that night.
And he was clearly still having a hard time dealing with it.
I supposed we’d never worried about him, again, myself included, and I recalled my parents advising counseling for him back then. He’d refused, saying he was fine.
How was I not blood-related to this kid, but we were so similar?
“What do you think Mom and Dad will do?” Bru asked me, swallowing. “They have to think I’m nuts.”
He wasn’t, and I didn’t like him saying that about himself. “You’re not crazy, and you forget they had to deal with me.”
And they did for a long time. I had my own troubles in high school, and even though they were before Sloane and Bru came into our family, they were there. I didn’t talk about the issues of my past much, but I was sure he’d heard. Things had gotten dark back then.
Bru faced me. “How did you deal with all that?”
I found a reason to push on for starters, and that started with a night and a party.
A girl…
Swallowing, I looked at my brother. “I did see someone. Aka lots of therapy.” And still did from time to time. Not lately, though. Not lately. I bumped his leg. “I had to deal with all that anger going on inside me. Lots of anger. Guilt.”
Something told me he could relate to what I said when his head hung. I was sure he had his own reasons for any anger or guilt he felt, and I hated he could relate at all. That shit truly sucked, and I hated if any of that was affecting him.
“But I did have to deal with it,” I continued. “If you don’t, that shit just bottles up. It explodes and usually in shit ways.”
I had a feeling he knew exactly what I was talking about. He nodded, and we both stared at the sky.
“Will you come with me? If I asked them about seeing someone, talking to someone…” Bru studied the ground. “Will you come?”
I answered him in a way I was sure surprised him. I’d been very guarded lately. Had to be, but I hugged the shit out of the kid in that moment. I think we both needed it.
Though, obviously in different ways.
Bru held on too, held on to me, and we just sat there in the hug. We were two guys with a bunch of fucked-up problems.
So many problems.
I closed my eyes, and I wasn’t the first one to let go. In fact, I didn’t let go.
