Page 52 of Whatever Will Be

It wasn’t the worst thing that happened to me, not even close, but I wasn’t about to have a drink with anyone who carried the stink of Tavington. I tossed some cash on the table and left without acknowledging him.

Gretchen was startled by my scars and for once I wished they weren’t there. Being with Gretchen is a new feeling. I can almost believe that it’s a better idea to chase away the bitterness I’ve been holding.

I’d much rather hold her.

The sight of Lake Stuart is a welcome one. When I first returned after eight long years away, I didn’t have that calming sense of coming home.

Now I do.

I make a stop at a small bakery on Mill Street, run into a woman who used to be a friend of my mother’s and buy a dozen sugar cookies shaped like Easter bunnies. It’s a little early for Easter but the girls will love the cookies.

I think I can be that kind of man, a man who goes out of his way to buy bunny cookies in the hopes of making two little girls smile.

It’s a short drive back to my street and I was planning to go straight to Gretch’s house. However I’ve been slacking on putting out a few fires on the Miami front so I need to take an hour or two to deal with business.

I’m not expecting to turn a corner and find a red Porsche squatting in the driveway.

A blizzard of F-bombs rolls through my mind as I brake beside the curb. I take a cautious look around for the shadow of my evil sibling but there’s only that damn car.

Feeling like I ought to be wearing a bullet proof vest instead of being armed with only a paper bag of bunny cookies, I approach my own house with caution. When I reach the front door I flash back to the day I was taken through it in handcuffs while that bastard who calls himself my brother stood by grinning like a comic book villain.

The door is locked, just how I left it. I meant to install a security system with cameras but haven’t found the time yet. If Liam’s inside then he’s trespassing.

Fuck him.

This is my house now.

I push the door open and Liam waves at me from the kitchen. His mouth is full and he’s helped himself to the salami and cheese in the fridge.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I don’t feel the need to be polite.

He picks up a salami slice, rolls it into a tube and pops it in his mouth.

“I’ve been waiting for your call. I knew you wouldn’t mind if I hung out here and waited so we could have a one on one brotherly talk.” He takes another salami slice. “Everything looks the same. I guess the last two owners didn’t touch a thing.”

“How the fuck did you get in?”

He chews and swallows. “You left the back door open.”

“I’m sure I didn’t.”

He sweeps some crumbs onto the floor. “You’re still careless. You did leave the back door unlocked. And you didn’t cover your tracks as well as you thought.”

I won’t give him the satisfaction of showing any surprise. I set the bag of cookies on the counter and say nothing.

Liam sighs. “If you wanted to buy your way into the business you could have just asked. I would have sold you a little piece, even let you have a desk at the office if it means that much to you.” He snaps his fingers. “Like when you were a kid and Dad would take you to work and let you play with the stapler. Hell, I’ve got an extra stapler you could have, Trent.”

“I don’t want a fucking thing of yours.”

He smiles and the sight is hideous. “Could have fooled me. Seems like you want to take something of mine badly enough to turn your own life upside down on a mission to get it.”

“Fuck you. I don’t take guidance from a lying, two-faced, thieving sack of shit.”

He wags a finger. “There’s that temper of yours. If memory serves, it’s gotten you in trouble before. Good thing I was around to stop you from taking your anger out on a helpless old man who couldn’t even remember what year it was.”

I could strangle him. I really could. All that old rage and injustice threatens to explode into violence.

I clench my fists at my sides and breathe.

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