Page 30 of Hold Me Before You Go

He looked over to Monica, checking her out before asking, “You say something to her?”

Monica peeled her eyes away from me, shaking her head. “I have nothing to say toher,” she practically spat, her venom lingering in his shower steam.

Brandon shook his head and looked at me, jerking his thumb to Monica. “Forgive her,” he chuckled. “She’s in a bad mood.”

Still, I said nothing.

He didn’t like that. His smile slowly faded as he dropped his arm, the air in the room shifting now. He walked to the bed by the window and bent, picking up a bag from the floor. The room was quiet as he dropped the bag on the bed and unzipped it. He pulled out some clothes and walked around the front of beds, standing close to Monica as he whispered something in her ear.

She flinched and looked down at his towel, her eyes like daggers. “Do what you want, Brandon, but you do that, I’ll be outside.”

He grinned at her as his towel dropped, landing in a heap on the stained carpet. I kept my eyes on his face as he turned to face me fully, a sinister look in his eyes now. My blood ran cold, but I kept my face still. “I have a question for you, Carrie,” he began conversationally, like we were old friends catching up.

Monica huffed and went to her bed, shaking her head. “You’re fucking sick, Brandon. This wasn’t part of the plan.”

He laughed, a sharp cackle as quick as a whip as he looked over his shoulder at her. “It’s an honest question. Besides, I’ve alwaysbeen curious.” He returned his attention to me. “I’ve always wanted to know why my dear older brother got everything he wanted in life.”

Forcing my face to remain neutral, my eyes shot over to where Monica was standing, but she wasn’t looking at me as she searched her small bag for something like she was in a hurry. My eyes dropped to her hands, noting how they were shaking. Brandon stepped in front of me then, cutting off my view with his—

I looked up at his face then, my mouth still closed as fear coiled around my neck, ready to cut off my airway.

Slowly, his head cocked to the side, and he pursed his lips. “I can see why Robert put up with you for so many years, despite everything else. You do have a pretty face. A nice set of lips…” He trailed off, letting out a sickening groan, his arm moving out of the corner of my eye.

He was touching himself.

“Carrie, tell me; who has the better cock? Me or my brother?”

My face twisted before I could stop it, and I looked up the ceiling, tears stinging my eyes as he grunted again. “Come on, blondie. Take a look for me. One look at my dick with those pretty eyes, and I’ll—”

“Jesus, Brandon!” Monica shouted, seething. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Her voice cracked at the end of her question, the shock in her voice bouncing off the smoke-stained walls.

I looked just in time to find him whirling to face her, pointing at her. “Keep your fucking voice down,” he clipped. “I’m just having some fucking fun.” His anger morphed his voice, and I could really hear Robert then.

I blinked, relieved his attention wasn’t on me anymore.

“Put your fucking clothes on,” she snapped. “I can’t fucking believe you. You said you were going to do this for Robert, and yet you’re doing this sick shit! I would’ve never—”

My eyes snapped up to meet hers as she cut herself off. I couldn’t keep my mask on any longer, not after seeing pain in her eyes. Then, it hit me.

She wasn’twithBrandon.

No, my dead husband meant something to her.

I looked away from them, bending my head as nightmares melded with my memories…

Three Years Ago. St. Louis, MO.

“Yeah,” Robert laughed from inside his home office. “I’ll be there later, I promise.”

I put a hand to my chest as I shook my head in confusion.

Where was he going later?

We were supposed to be celebrating our anniversary tonight. I looked down at the dark red dress he’d picked out for me last month, brushing my hands down the soft silk as I heard another laugh come from him. He said something low, too low for me to hear.

I pressed my ear to the door, my heart skipping a beat. My stomach rumbled then, a low, pleading sound coming from it. I pressed my hand against my abdomen, praying the pain would fade soon. It usually always did around this time, and by dinner time, I wouldn’t be hungry. Robert was always happier when I didn’t eat as much. On the nights I let my hunger get the best of me, eating a little more than half my plate, he would always have something to say. Then, the next morning, my trainer at the gym would work me twice as hard.

I needed to do better, truly I did. There was no reason for me to be the weight I am right now. I’d been keeping it a secret from Robert all week, having gained two pounds randomly. I didn’t know where it came from, but I was frightened.

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