My heart wouldn’t let me, I almost blurted. Instead, I nodded. He was right. The tug I felt when I clammed up had nothing to do with fear. Something deep within me told me to hold my fire. That didn’t happen often.

In fact, it had only happened three times. Every one of them happened to be an instance with a sibling on the other end of the barrel. My intuition hadn’t lied to me yet. I didn’t think it would start tonight.

“Okay.” I shrugged, sitting my gun on the counter.

He reached in the fridge and grabbed another bottle of water and handed it to me.

“You want to talk about it?” Chemistry asked me, nodding his head toward the dining table.

“About?”

He paused, taking in my dampened skin. I was due for another shower and it wasn’t because of his presence. Neither was it because of the discovery of an uninvited guest in my home. Long before I woke up with both trigger fingers wrapped around automatic weapons, beads of sweat lined my forehead.

“Your home is sixty-eight degrees, baby. You’re not hot, yet your skin is moist.”

“No. I don’t.”

Sharing the details of Richie’s constant presence in my dreams wasn’t exactly how I wanted to commence or conclude a conversation with my brother. The visuals were partially the reason I was in no hurry to close my eyes when the sun rested at night.

Those dark eyes stared into the dark pit of a soul I was in possession of. Still, within those rounds was love.Care. Consideration. Contemplation.

I waited, patiently, for his thoughts to resolve the issue my lack of cooperation caused. He tipped the bottle until water flowed down his throat. His gaze never wavered. When he lowered the bottle, his words began to assault me.

“He’s not coming back.”

“Why are you here?” I questioned, growing frustrated with the accuracy of his statement.

“He’s not coming back, Rugger.”

“Don’t you think I fucking know it, Chemistry?”

Involuntarily, my eyebrows drew inward and my heart tumbled two stories until it reached my knees where I grew weaker.

“Every day I open my eyes, I’m reminded. I don’t need any more reminders. Thank you, but I know. I know. I know! My heart knows. My body knows. My mind knows. My entire fucking existence knows.”

“You know it but you haven’t accepted it.”

“And, I won’t. Not until I’m ready. If that’s why you’re here, then please–”

I pointed toward the door. It wasn’t the way he’d come in, but it was a way out, nonetheless.

“It’s fucking with your performance.”

“My–” I chuckled, sarcastically, placing a hand underneath my chin, “My performance.”

“You’re insulted.”

“Damn right!”

With a nod, I scoffed, shaking my head from one side to the other.

“Good. You should be.”

“Good? When did you start using words like–Good.”

“When your patience proved to be a problem. Your pain is written all over your work. We don’t do shambolic work, Rugger. It’s beneath us. Beneathyou.”

“Which is why you won’t find a job I’ve done that doesn’t live up to the standard or exceeds it. I’ve never known you to talk in circles, so I’d be happy if you said what you have to say instead of talking in circles.”