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Your ass was great, and you suck like a dream, but we’re done.
Okay, it really wasn’t time for thoughts like that. Richard had a gun on him, and his hand was shaking terribly as he ordered Marc into the passenger seat of the BMW. He couldn’t believe how badly he’d underestimated Richard.
“Get in the car!” Richard shouted, pulling Marc’s attention firmly away from Royce and his wounded heart. Marc looked across the roof of the car to see his oldest brother still pointing the gun at him. His face shone with sweat under the driveway light despite the cold chill in the air. He didn’t look good at all, but then Marc hoped his brother would look like shit when holding a family member at gunpoint. It wasn’t something a sane, healthy person would do.
Marc slowly opened the passenger door and slid into the seat at the same time as Richard. He pulled on his seat belt while Richard jerkily switched hands with the gun, so he could turn on the car.
“Did you poison yourself?” Marc asked. He shifted carefully, keeping the phone at his side. The ambient light of the BMW helped to offset the soft glow coming from the phone. The light gave him hope that Royce had answered the call, that he was listening, and that he was rushing toward Marc even now. He wished Royce was with him already. Not so he could overpower Richard and send him off to jail, but he wanted Royce’s confidence in him. He needed to feel Royce’s strength at his back.
“Shut up.”
“If you’re planning to kill me, then I deserve to know. Did you fucking poison yourself? Why?”
“Why do you think?” Richard snarled. He quickly looked over his shoulder as he whipped the sedan around in the driveway. Stomping his foot on the gas pedal, he lurched forward, nearly fumbling the gun as the car surged down the driveway. “You brought that fucking bodyguard in, pretending he’s some big love. He never left your goddamn side over the past month. How the hell else was I supposed to get a moment alone with you?”
“Yeah, and after someone tried three times to kill me, maybe it was a good idea not to be alone,” Marc countered. He glanced out the window at the motley dance of dark shadow and thin lamplight as Richard rushed them down his street. The asphalt glistened, still gilded with water from rain earlier in the evening. Tires squealed as they hit the first turn, and his heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t too long ago that he’d crashed on this same road after his brakes had failed. He had no desire to repeat that moment. “Why are you trying to kill me? Do you really hate me that much?”
“Yes,” Richard hissed. “I’ve fucking hated you from the moment you were born. Everything was perfect. Just the three of us. It was the right balance. Our parents were happy, and then you fucking come along like some unwanted stray, demanding attention. And to top it off, you’re fucking gay. Goddamn embarrassment. Flaunting your depraved lifestyle all around the world.”
“First off, I didn’t ask to be born, and I didn’t ask to be gay. That’s fucking life.”
“Shut up!” Richard rubbed his chest with the gun still clutched tightly in one hand. The car swerved over the double yellow line, but he quickly jerked it back into their lane. “You’ve corrupted Lilah. She’s got such a soft heart. Thinks she needs to protect you because you’re the fucking baby.”
Marc blinked and looked away from his brother. A knot formed in his throat as he thought about his sister. He’d tried so many times to breach the distance between them, and at times, it seemed like it was working. But then, a few days later, she’d be back to giving him the cold shoulder and biting attitude. Had it been Richard whispering in her ear over the years, turning her against him?
“So, you’ve just finally had enough. Decided to kill me because I never should have been born?”
“As much as the world would be better off without you,” Richard said. He paused to wipe some of the sweat off his face with a shaking hand. “I’m not killing you because I hate you.”
“Then why—”
“I need your goddamn money!”
“What?”
“Your fucking money!” Richard yelled. The car veered into the opposite lane again, and Richard barely managed to jerk it back into the right lane before hitting an oncoming car. Marc gripped the handle above the window and sucked in a shaking breath. Richard was going to kill him, and possibly someone else, with his driving.
“Why?”
“I took a big hit with the last recession. I leveraged everything we had. Borrowed money from the company. The local market hasn’t bounced back as quickly, and I made more bets to try to cover the money I took from the company. Everything has gone to shit.”
