Page 78 of Provoking the Punter

“He doesn’t drink anymore.”

“I don’t care.” He should be glad Dad had found love again and straightened out his life, but he’d ruined three years of Garrett’s life. He’d killed his wife because he was too fucking proud to call a taxi because he’d drunk too much. He was a fucking cop, and he should’ve known better.

Garrett forced his fingers to uncurl. He couldn’t hold on to this anger, or it was going to eat him. He’d worked most of his fury out today, now it was mostly worry gnawing on his guts like a rat trying to escape. Fuck. Talking to his brother always brought up the old pain, like an injury that had never healed.

Andrew exhaled. “I’ll let him know, but if the media knocks on his door, he might talk, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. Why is this suddenly a story? You’ve been over there for years.”

“I was photographed kissing my boyfriend.”

“Let me go grab some pearls to clutch.”

Garrett smiled. “There’s a little more to it, but…”

“You can’t discuss it, and I’m sure if I look, I’ll find it.”

“Yeah…” And there was nothing he could do about that. “Whatever the articles are speculating, I wasn’t involved. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I saw it unfold.”

His brother was silent for a couple of seconds. “Okay. I believe you.”

“Why, when you haven’t even looked it up?”

“I’m not going to; I don’t need to. I can’t imagine you doing something stupid to jeopardize your career. That’s not who you are. You’ve worked hard to get to where you are. Don’t let the bastards take it from you.”

“Thank you.”

“Mum would be proud… though she’d hate that fucking tattoo.”

Garrett gave a soft laugh. “It seemed like a good idea.”

“I get it.”

Did he? There was only a four-year age gap, but at sixteen, the difference between them had been so great. Andrew hadn’t been in the car that night. He hadn’t been living at home. He’d been living in a share house with his uni friends. Andrew hadn’t known how bad it was at home until Garrett told him, and by that point, Garrett already had one foot out the door and the other in America.

“If you need anything, call,” Andrew said.

There wasn’t anything his brother could do, but it was the offer that mattered.

“I’m hoping it will blow over soon, because I hate this bullshit.”

“I’m sure it will. I guess I’ll stalk your social media to meet your boyfriend. I’m assuming you’re going to be more open now?”

Garrett pulled into the car park. “It looks that way. Thanks for dealing with Dad.”

“I said I’d talk to him, not deal with him.”

“Near enough. I’ll talk to you later.” Later could be two weeks or two months.

“Try not to leave it so long.”

“Oh, come on, I send you memes. It’s not like we haven’t communicated.”

Andrew laughed. “Go and deal with your stuff, Garrett. I’ll let you know if anyone picks up the story over here.”

“I don’t want to know, but I’ll forward it to the PR people.” What Caitlin would do with it, he had no idea; it wasn’t his problem to worry about. All he needed to do was what he was told, and he was good at that.

His phone buzzed as a message came in. Chester. “I need to go, so I’ll catch you at some other inconvenient time.”

The time difference always made catching up a little difficult. It was either too late or too early for one of them. Someone was going to work or going to bed. He couldn’t go home for Christmas, nor did he want to. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than sitting around the dining table, playing happy family with his father and his new stepmother.

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