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“Brother,” he said eventually.
“Rainer. Surprised to see you.” He sounded like someone who smoked about a hundred cigarettes a day. That was probably not far from the truth.
“Surprised to be here.”
He was doing it. Somehow, he was speaking to Tuco without anger. It was as though he’d been cleansed, as though the trauma of his brother’s betrayal had finally left him.
“You here to see the sights?” Tuco grinned, and it took Rainer back in time. He hadn’t seen that expression on his brother’s face since they were kids. Before the drugs, before the loss, before the struggle.
“No. Not here to see the sights. Here for something else.”
“Truth is,” Tuco said, “I been waiting a long time to see you.”
Rainer knew it was true. Everyone now and then — once a year or so — a representative of the state penitentiary system would reach out and tell him that his brother wanted to see him. He would politely decline.
“Hope it’s worth the wait,” Rainer smiled wryly.
“Oh, it is.” His brother’s sincerity shocked him. “It really is. This whole time I’ve been in here, I’ve been desperate to see you. Desperate to tell you just how sorry I am.”
“You apologizing?”
His brother’s eyes were wet with tears, their rims red. “I am. You don’t have to accept. I ge—”
“I accept.” Rainer said, quickly. “More than that. I forgive you. I understand. We were kids. You were dumb.” He breathed in deep. “I’m sorry for what you’ve been through. I’m sorry you don’t have your freedom. I’m sorry for it all.”
Tuco pushed a palm up onto the safety glass, and Rainer did the same.
“I missed you so much.”
“I missed you to.” It was good to admit it. As soon as he said the words, his heart felt light, his soul felt free. “Fuck, Tuco, I got a lot of shit to catch you up on.”
“Might not have time.” Tuco glanced at the clock.
“Well, I guess I’ll have to come back.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Thesagehadbeenburned. The lights had been dimmed. Candles were lit — black ones, of course. Offerings to the dark gods of fate had been placed on an altar — handcuffs, silk, and chocolate.
“Didn’t think I’d be getting another tarot reading after the last one,” Rainer said. They were at Esme’s place. It was now unrecognizable, of course. Not a single misplaced item of clothing, no molding old plates, and there were no scraps of paper or receipts to be seen anywhere. Where there used to be mess, was the order of a life lived in control, and to the plan.
“Well, my willing subject, this is a very,verydifferent draw to a normal tarot reading.” Esme was wearing an outfit that made her feel extremely sexy. A deep black corset, rimmed with red silk. A short, velvet skirt, revealing fishnet stockings over her pale skin. She’d even invested in a jet-black shawl, which covered her hair, as well as a headband adorned with small gold coins. If there was a personification of sexy fate, she was it. This was a special day, and she’d decided to make it extra special for her Daddy.
Later on, Rainer was going to be officially sworn in as President of the Drifters. He’d have to take an oath, swear on the rules of the club, and then — probably — have to make some kind of speech. She wanted to make sure that he was as relaxed and confident as was humanly possible.
So, she’d bought something very, very special for him.
“Yeah, I don’t remember you being quite so… sexy last time we did this.”
“So, you think that Lady Luck is sexy, do you? How insolent.”
Rainer grinned, clearly enjoying Esme’s silly roleplay. “Sorry, Lady Luck. You have my apologies.” Then, under his breath, he added, “You filthy wench.”
She pretended not to hear the second part. “Very good. Apology accepted. Now, we will begin the reading.” Esme took out the deck. She’d not yet even had a chance to fully look through this special deck she’d bought. Hopefully it would be as good as all the reviews online said it was.
“Wait, what’s the picture on the…” Rainer’s voice trailed off as he caught sight of the art on the backs of the cards. It was a very erotic painting of a sub, naked, with her wrists strapped together. There was a riding crop resting against her plump, spankable bottom.
“Don’t question the fates,” Esmeralda snapped, “or the magic may not flow.” She was really getting into character now, absolutely loving the feeling of mystery and dark eroticism that was moving over her.
