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Tate doesn’t bother replying. He’s done participating in whatever the fuck is going on with Dara.
‘So, you with me yet?’
Tate doesn’t know where the fuck he is. His body won’t do anything he wants it to do and he swears his head is bouncing off the beams in the roof. The unpleasant aftereffects are bad enough without the accompanying exhaustion. He can barely keep his eyes open and Dara’s droning in the background is just adding to his frustration.
He grabs Tate by the jaw and turns his head around. ‘Are you listening to me?’
Tate’s eyes close again. Fuck Dara. All he wants to do is sleep and wake up when this nightmare is over.
Dara jostles his head. ‘C’mon. Look at me.’
Tate glares over at him which just makes Dara laugh.
‘You know what? I much prefer you this way. You’re far less annoying when you’re off your head. I may not have been driven to these lengths if I knew this side of you.’
‘What...’ Tate struggles to get his thoughts in order. ‘What was you? Did you do it all?’
He chews on a chip before he answers. ‘Yes. All me. The photo in the post I handed you at Christmas. All the reports. Leaking your dirty overdose secret to the press. The bottle of rum to celebrate your exciting win. That little story about meeting Chloe in rehab. All me.’
‘She didn’t deserve that.’
Dara laughs loudly. ‘I completely agree. She didn’t. From what I could tell she was a good one. Not like the dozens of others you’ve no doubt used and abused over the years. Personally, I reckon she owes me a big thank you. I just showed her what being with you will do to her. Better she gets away from you now before you get bored and turf her aside.’
It’s a complete waste of energy but Tate savagely jerks against his bonds. It does fuck all to get his fists any closer to Dara, but it does make him jump and drop his chips on the floor. Better than nothing. At least it wiped the smug smile off the bastard’s face. In spite of the absolute shit situation he’s in he can’t help but laugh.
Dara retaliates by punching Tate in the jaw. He kicks the bedframe then sits back on the chair and looks down at his ruined dinner.
‘Why do you always have to steal the limelight, huh? Why can’t you ever just blend into the background? I mean it was a continual thing when we were kids. It didn’t matter what I did or how hard I worked I couldn’t get out from your shadow.
‘And you want to know the worst part? I was falling short of someone who wasn’t even related to any of us. I seriously don’t get it. I played by the rules. I worked hard. Didn’t get in trouble. Top of my class all the way through school. All the way through college.’
Tate tries to pay attention to what Dara’s saying, but he’s seriously struggling. He’s exhausted, his head is fucking killing him, and he’s craving something he thought he had broken free from.
He grunts as Dara grabs a handful of his hair and turns his head around.
‘And then there’s you, Tate. A re-homed stray. Always in trouble. Detention every week for fighting or talking back, or whatever else you did to draw attention to yourself. Okay, so you’ve got a masters in music, but seriously how hard is that to get? It’s just part of the whole look at me thing you do. You did everything you possibly could to stand out, to show off. I mean look at you. All those ridiculous tattoos. We couldn’t be more different if we tried, yet I always fell short. Do you remember the party your parents held for you when you won those awards?’
Tate looks at him but doesn’t reply.
‘I’ll take that as a yes. Do you know what my father said to me that night about you? He said that you’ve had a tough year and I should show you some compassion. Can you believe that? You do everything wrong. You drink, you take drugs, you hurt your family and everyone who stupidly gives a damn about you. And that deserves compassion. That there sums up everything I hate about you. Everything I detest about you and what you’ve done to me. You must know what that feels like now though.’
Tate frowns at him. ‘What?’
‘Oh don’t go all coy with me. I know you were less than happy about me riding Jove while you were... indisposed. Like I know you were less than happy about me helping out around the farm. I could see it clear as day on your face. You were sitting beside your lady friend trying to be all gracious thanking me for my help, but I could see how much it pissed you off.
‘You probably wouldn’t be happy to know I also helped them clean up your bachelor pad after you let your junkie friends destroy it.’
Dara laughs when he sees the shock on Tate’s face.
‘Oh yes. I got to see your work first-hand. You see, I’ve been sticking close to your parents for months. How do you think I got a set of keys to your truck? I made a copy of their set. Same goes for the code to your gate. I couldn’t get my hands on your house keys unfortunately but getting the drugs into your car worked just fine.’
‘You used them to get to me?’
‘Of course. Obviously they thought I was being all helpful and friendly. Same with Dad. He’d happily tell me anything he heard about you from his dear sister.’
Tate feels sick and it’s got nothing to do with the drugs. Dara got into his life through his parents. That explains why the letters came when things were finally going his way. His mum had told Dara’s dad and then he sent a letter.
His cousin is seriously fucked in the head. Tate snorts which doesn’t go down well with Dara. He grabs a handful of Tate’s hair and pulls his head up.
