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“Just fucking look into them. It’s not that difficult.” He throws the screwdriver on the ground and begins pacing in a circle around the shell of a dresser.
“Fine, I’ll look into your little woman’s life.”
“Thank you.”
“Oh, so you’re admitting that she’s yours. This is progress.” I walk toward him. “Something happened, didn’t it?”
He stops pacing to toss me a lethal glare I’ve built an immunity to. I wiggle my eyebrows, unable to help the giddiness that fills me. “Something did happen! Did you do it? Hmm…”
“Fuck off.” He turns his head to rub his neck. This is too good!
“So, she didn’t hand it to you on a platter? Didn’t bend over for you?”
Without warning, he rushes at me. Years of fighting have my arms coming up to block his advance. A second blow lands across my jaw. I fist his shirt, locking us in a struggle for control.
“Don’t talk about her like that.”
I know my brother would never actually kill me. However, he isn’t above a good thrashing when pushed too far.
“All right. I’m sorry.”
His grip on my arm remains tight.
“I’m sorry, okay. Calm down.”
At those words, the black pooling in his eyes begins to retreat.
“Never again.” His finger stops inches from my nose.
When I nod, he lets go of my arm and takes a step back.
“I promise.” When I look at him, I feel a twinge of guilt. He runs his hand along the top of the dresser. Clearly, this woman seems to have gotten to him in more ways than one. He’s needed someone besides me for a while now. I’m just glad he did it before he entered really questionable territory in his little stalking side quest.
“All right, I’ll send you the reports when I’m done.”
Grunting his approval, he continues to inspect another drawer. I shake my head at the sight of him.
“Don’t stay up all night; get some sleep. You look absolutely hideous.”
He huffs and flips me off. Well, at least his spirit isn’t dampened too much.
While slipping my shoes on downstairs, it occurs to me that perhaps I didn’t lift his spirits enough. What a bad brother I am.
My feet carry me back upstairs as fast as they can. He looks up from the dresser in confusion. Kicking out my feet, I do a little shuffle so my shoes are on full display. He makes for the doorway at lightning speed. I turn on my heels, his bellows reaching me as I push the front door open to safety. Checkmate brother dear.
23
Iwalk out of my bedroom to start the day and look at the pile of wood which used to be my dresser. The thought of the unknown still rankles my mind like a persistent rash.
Two days. Two fucking days and not a scratch. Not a feathering of a scuff. Nothing. I finally came to the conclusion that it had to be destroyed. If only to bring me some mild comfort. The splintered wood poking out of my bins is all that remains.
Heaving a sigh, I take a seat at my desk, immediately pulling my phone closer to check for a text from Patience—something which has become routine these past few days. Nothing. Even when she ignores me, I can’t manage to think of much else. Her green eyes have planted a seed in my mind that grows daily.
After several hours of reviewing new potential investments, my body simply can’t take the stagnation a moment longer. I change and get ready for my afternoon run. With any luck, the exercise will help ease some of the maddening silence. When I open my phone to turn on the jogging app, Patience’s name pops up across the screen. My fingers can’t function fast enough to open the message. My elation fades quickly, plummeting into utter despondency as I stare at the words.
How’s the new mirror?
She must have been fermenting in her annoyance for days over this. Rubbing my eyes with my fingers, I run my hand down my face. Fuck. If I could tell her why I bought it, she wouldn’t be as upset. She’d be furious or never speak to me again, or both. How would that even go: It’s a present for you, my darling. I have it downstairs in a room, along with several other items you’ve taken an interest in over the past few months. Kisses. XOXO.
