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Great. Just what I need—another territorial man with a hero complex.
Van
For the first time in a long time, I slept well.
I should’ve known that would be a problem.
Rolling over, I slide my hand over the cool sheets, finding only the fluffy cat beside me. “Where is your fucking owner?” I ask Biscuit, not expecting an answer. “She better not have done anything stupid.”
Biscuit looks at me like of course, Reese has done something stupid. What would a day be like if she wasn’t going against my wishes just to piss me off?
I let out a big sigh, hang my legs over the bed, and stretch. The medication still lingers, but I am not nearly as tired as yesterday. Standing, I lumber to the bathroom and quickly shower, checking my phone as soon as I finish. Several texts and emails from work await me that I’ll deal with later, but the one that stands out to me is the text from Bach.
Bach: You’re not going to like what I need to tell you. Get your mind right before you head over. I don’t want to kick your ass this morning, no matter how much it puts me in a good mood.
Somehow, I know this has to do with Reese. Call it intuition from stalking the girl for years. “Reese!” I call out. “Get the fuck in here.”
She better not make me ask again. After all that I love you shit and a near-death experience, I’m in no mood to worry about her more than I already do.
“Reese!” I’m pulling on clothes, my voice becoming louder each time I call her name. “You won’t like it if I come find you.” I don’t know who she thinks I am. Some forty-year-old dad who plays games for fun? Not hardly.
“Don’t be stupid, Reese. You can’t escape me.”
Doom seems to settle around me as the only noise in the house is mine. My wife is on the run.
Quickly, I take out my phone and text Bach.
Me: Where the hell is she?
I don’t know what pisses me off more, the fact that she ran or that I trusted her again.
People are fickle. I know that firsthand. They will go to great lengths to get what they want. Reese is a very good actress. She’s always been able to convince me she is not like the others, yet I still haven’t learned my lesson.
No more. I am done with Reese Carmichael.
She’ll no longer be my brutal sunflower, rather she’ll be my wilting example. Anyone who crosses me will feel the heat of my vengeance and bear the scars from my retribution. And once I’m done marring her supple skin with my flame, no one will ever spare her a glance without knowing I was there.
Bach never answers.
He waits for me in the House of Enoch. He’s lucky I’ve deemed it a part of my home or else I’d burn it down with him inside it.
Descending the stairs and reaching my car, I hightail it up the hill, where everything looks like it should, and march into my first and only home.
“Bach!” My yelling goes unanswered, but the music filling the upstairs hall gives him away. Bounding up the stairs, I find my brother perched on the bench, bent over the piano, his bloodied music sheets littering the floor.
Although, the one that sits upon the piano is crisp white—untainted by his vice. A new song plays on the keys as he presses each one with precision and focus. We’ve all seen Bach play before, but never before a piece was done.
“Do you like it?” His voice carries over the sound, his eyes still plastered on the moving keys. He’s never asked for our opinions before—mostly because he doesn’t give a shit whether we like his songs or not. They’re not for us. I don’t plan on changing our system today.
“It’s fine,” I clip. I came for Reese, not to ease his insecurity. “Where is my wife?”
He tsks, holding up a finger that isn’t strumming a key. “I would tell you, but I’m not finished.”
His gaze settles back on the grand piano he had Enoch buy when he was found and sworn into the brotherhood. It was his only request, and Enoch stupidly delivered. Now, we can never escape Bach’s depressing lullabies.
I don’t have the time or the patience for this.
Lunging forward, I grip the collar of his shirt and yank him forward so I’m in his face. The bastard smiles, much like I would have, but it still pisses me off. Letting go, I push him back, and he barely wobbles. He grins like he’s discovered all my weaknesses and returns to his song.
