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It’s as close to an invitation as I’m going to get, and I’m not fucking stupid, so I stride across the room and sit in the chair across from him. Silence hovers around us as we sip our brews and only when my bottle is empty, do I speak.
“Where are you going with Jez?” I ask, not ready to jump into the inferno that is our issues.
“I’m gonna stay with her for a while,” he says. “As long as Apple is staying here, I want to stick around. I, um, like it here, ya know? But I can’t behere… not right now.”
“Oh. Okay.” I pause to absorb that he wants to stay. I expected news like that to piss me off, but it doesn’t, so I forge ahead. “I’m no good at shit like this.” He snorts, but I continue. “Talking never seemed to get me anywhere, so I just stopped. Easier to express my feelings with actions.”
Mark slides his eyes to mine. “Like beating the shit outta me?”
“You walked in on me and App—” I shake my head. “No, scratch that. You’re right. But I’m pretty sure we’re both guilty as hell for that fight.”
His lips twitch. “It felt damn good, though.”
I smirk. “When our adrenaline was at an all-time high, yeah. Hurts like a sonofabitch now.”
Mark kills off his beer and grabs my bottle to throw both in the trash. “Want another?”
“Sure.”
He gets two more beers and returns to the table. “So…”
After downing half of the second bottle, I decide to dive into the deep end. “What did you mean when you said, ‘what about what happened to me’?”
Like burning coals being smothered out with a wet blanket, the idle chit-chat is over, and Mark’s expression hardens.
“Seriously?” He stands and starts to pace. “You can’t figure that out?”
“Humor me.”
He’s quiet for a few minutes, and so am I. Neither of us want to talk about this, want to relive whatever trauma we’re both holding onto, but we can’t keep clutching our secrets like the heat from our hands will incinerate them, making them disappear.
Mark stops pacing to stand in front of me. “Why’d you leave?”
“You know why, Mark. After what I did… staying wasn’t an option.”
“After what you did…” He huffs out a breath. “I still don’t understand why Father Brine and Deacon Block were who you chose to take out.”
Stunned, I shoot to my feet. “Because they molested me!” I shout, incapable of holding back.
Mark takes a stumbling step back as if I physically struck him and shakes his head. “No. That’s not what…” He steps back again, and again, until he hits the wall. “They were always so friendly.” Mark’s eyes shift from side to side like he’s searching his memory for something,anything, that will shed light on this new information. He must come up empty because when he locks his gaze on mine, anger shines bright. “You’re lying.”
“No, I’m not.” My shoulders sag, and I take several deep breaths while trying to get my thoughts in some sort of order he’ll understand… or believe. “It started when I was eight, at that first church picnic Mom and Dad took us to when we switched churches. Deacon Block took us inside to get swimming trunks so we wouldn’t miss out on any of the fun.” I smirk. “Turns out, he wanted to show us a different kind of fun.” When he only stares at me like I’ve grown a second head, a lightbulb goes off in my brain. “You don’t remember, do you?”
“You were eight?” he asks and when I nod, he scowls. “That means I was four, Paul. Four!”
I don’t bother to correct his use of my given name, but I do start putting the evil puzzle pieces together. “Wait a sec,” I say, thrusting a hand through my hair. “If you don’t remember, and you think those monsters were kind and don’t understand why I killed them… What the fuck did you mean when you said, ‘what about what happened to me’?” I ask again.
Mark stares at me, and his eyes shine with tears. All the protective instincts I had for my brother when I was a kid come flooding back, and I close the distance between us. I reach for him, but he steps to the side, out of my grasp, and puts his hands up.
“No,” he barks. “You didn’t protect me then, so you don’t get to do it now.”
Wow.
Holy fucking wow.
“Wow,” I say with a sigh, dropping my arms. “You don’t get it.”
He sniffles and blinks several times, clearing the tears so the mask he wears can slip back into place. “Get what?”
