Page 4 of Harry

And Philip… From what I gather, he has spent most of his time in the club, ogling young girls. He is such a putrid sack of shit it’s hard to align myself to the understanding that he and Richard are related by blood. That they could possibly share the same parents is beyond me. They are,were, polar opposites.

And now this.

I switch off the water and grab a towel.

Though I know I’m clean, my hands still look as though they are covered with congealed and cracking flecks of red, and I wonder if I’ll ever stop seeing Richard’s blood.

Harry

The flight out seemed to take forever, giving me time to replay the last few hours with my family over and over.

The letter dad left me is still clutched between my fingers, crumpled and creased from being read a million times as I try to make sense of it all.

My sisters are with me. Brig has fallen into a fitful sleep, her beautiful soft face has lines that weren’t there before. Jack runs her finger around the rim of a glass, not drinking the tequila that sits inside. Her way of keeping control over situations is to torture herself like this.

I sigh and shake my head, then open the letter again.

“You’re going to drive yourself crazy,” Jack mutters as she lifts the glass and takes a deep breath in through her nose, inhaling the scent of the liquid.

“You’re one to talk,” I grumble back.

She just shakes her head and places the glass back down on the tray.

“Why is James with us?” I ask, looking back toward the coach class where I know he’s sitting. His presence at the house was odd at best. I know he was in Chicago with dad for the wedding, so he must have flown out immediately after it happened. After my dad was killed.

“Dad’s orders? Protection? Who fucking knows. Who knows anything anymore?” She writhes in her seat, her anger making her uncomfortable. She moves to lift the glass to her lips and my brow shoots up.

She stops herself, her jaw clenching with effort as she places the glass back down.

“I hate you,” she grumbles.

“I love you,” I whisper back, looking into her eyes. Dad’s eyes. We both have them. All the different shades of silver. Only dad’s were slightly darker.

We’ve always been the same, Jack and I. So similar and so different that we bickered and fought through our entire childhood. But when needed, we’ve always been there for each other, perfectly in tune with the others’ needs.

“Are you going to be okay?”I ask quietly. Jack doesn’t like to look weak in private, never mind on a plane full of people.

She nods, lifting the glass to her lips again.

This time, I take it from her, my swift movement surprising her. Before she can register what I’ve done, I swallow the vile liquid and put the empty glass back down.

“What the…” she says, and I quickly take her hands in mine, forcing her to look into my eyes.

“I love you, Jack, but we’ve got enough to deal with out here without you playing drink roulette. Do you understand me?” I’m not blind. I can see her slipping out of sobriety faster than a landslide, and I get it. I do. But we are stepping into a snake pit with the bare minimum of facts, and she is the only one that would be able to decipher it all.

I need her to stay sober.

Brig stirs and I look over to see her eyelids flicker open. For a split second she begins to smile, before her brain registers we’re on a plane and the reason for it. She shakes her head, her chestnut hair tied up in a scruffy bun flops around with the movement.

“Where is James?” she asks, causing every muscle in my body to tense.

“Somewhere back there,” I gesture with my head. I paid for first class tickets for the three of us, but I sure wasn’t going to extend those niceties to James. My sisters, Jack a police officer and Brig a nurse, don’t earn enough to fly to Chicago on the spur of the moment, but I know my dad pays him well enough for him to afford his own plane tickets. “What do you want him for?” I demand, feeling bad when she scrunches her face up and casts her eyes down.

“Tequila makes you mean,” Jack whispers to me. I scowl back.

“I’m sorry Brig, something just feels off about him.” I wonder how much I can or should say. She is clearly besotted with the man, God knows why.

She nods her head before looking out of the window. I share a look with Jack, wishing I knew what Brig was thinking. At twenty-two she is obviously a capable woman, but she will always be my baby sister and I know it clouds my judgement at times.

---