Page 43 of Ruthless Lullaby

Jesus Christ, what a shitshow.

I remain silent and expressionless. The mere thought of my brother getting back together with Mindy makes my hands clench into fists. For a brief moment, I wonder if I should feel guilty at all, but I quickly brush it aside. Yes, Maurice is mybrother, but he’s clearly a mess. Any woman deserves a better man than him. Especially Mindy.

"Bratok," I tell him. "We had this exact same conversation the other day. I have nothing else to say."

"Fuck, bro...” His mouth opens and closes his mouth again. “I'm drowning in debt here, you feel me? The kind of debt that gets a guy's arms and legs broke if no payments are made." He swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing. "Look, Maron… Even if I accept your job offer, I need a lump sum to pay these bastards to get them off my back. Then, I can get a clean slate and get my life straight. Get Mindy back. Show her I deserve her. Start living a decent life. That's the plan."

I sneer at his desperate little plea for a handout. As fucking always, he can't clean up his own mess without coming to beg me for help. It’s the same fucking plea I heard numerous times from him until I lost count. And I can’t believe I have to listen to the same shit all over again, wasting my fucking time for nothing.

“That’s a nice plan, Maurice. Except I heard it before. Not once. You come crying about your fuckups, hoping I'll unfuck them for you." I shake my head in disgust. "Some things just don’t change, do they brother? What’s my guarantee that you’ll stay true to your word this time, huh?"

"Maron, please don't be so hard on me. I'll pay you back, I swear!"

"Like last time? And the time before? And the time before that? I’m still waiting to receive those payments, Maurice!"

He's on the verge of crying and I could kick him in the ass. "I just need a last chance to get myself straight," he says quietly.

“I’ve heard that one before too. I need you to do better this time."

"But… aren’t we family, Maron?" He’s looking at me with puppy eyes.

There it is. The family shit again. He’s been using that to manipulate me for years. And it always worked for him. But not this time. You’ve got to draw a line somewhere.

“Tell me this, brother. Why do I get the feeling that your concept of family only works one way?" I’m not exaggerating.

He looks at me questioningly. "What are you talking about, Maron?"

Is he fucking serious?

I really want to kick his ass now. But instead, I scratch my chin, making a thoughtful expression. "Let me think. How about my mother? She could really use some company every now and then. She did a lot for you, even though you're not her biological child."

Maurice's scruffy ass is still standing there like a stray dog. "I know, Maron. But the way she is… She's not easy to handle."

I rise from my seat, towering over him with a menacing presence. "Not easy to handle, huh?” I snap. “She is fucking ill, Maurice! You think you’re easy to handle?"

"Yes, Maron, but—"

"But what?” I cut him off. “Do you even know she has vascular dementia? No, you fucking don't. Why? Because when we got the diagnosis, you were too busy getting pissed or snorting coke and screwing some random hooker. Or maybe you were sitting at Marble Monkey, wasting away in front ofa goddamn slot machine, praying for luck, and ignoring your responsibilities." I run a hand through my hair in frustration. "My mother did everything for you when your sorry ass needed it. She loved you like you were her own. And now that she needs help, where the fuck are you?"

He falls silent for a moment, my words sinking into his stubborn mind. "You're right, Maron. I'll visit her today."

I lean back, leveling him with a hard look. “You'd better. Right now, Timofey is looking after her, and I'm the one making sure she has everything she needs. If family is so fucking important for you, then get your shit together and do something for the person who brought your ass up.”

"I said, I’ll go see her." Maurice licks her lips. "And now, can we talk about… helping me?"

"I offered you the organ business, didn't I?" I snap back. "And thirty percent of the profits, which is more money than you ever made. And what did you do? You demanded fifty, like the greedy, irresponsible piece of shit you are."

Maurice's shoulders slump forward as the weight of his latest colossal fuckup settles over him once more. "I know, Maron... I was stupid."

"Understatement of the year," I confirm with a derisive snort.

Maurice's head hangs in a pathetic display of self-pity and regret. Not that it means shit to me, not anymore. We've been through this cycle more times than I can count. He disappoints, grovels for a lifeline, then wastes it all over again. Yet, even though I know I should, I can’t just kick him out. He is mybrother and I still feel somewhat responsible for him, no matter how much his stupidity makes me grit my teeth.

"Well, listen up and listen good," I growl. "That same deal is still on the table for now. Thirty percent. Take it or leave it, bro, because there won't be a next time."

The silence that follows is heavy as reality sinks its fangs into Maurice's expression.

"I'll take it. Just give me fifty percent."

---