Page 1 of Barrett

PROLOGUE

BARRETT

Seven Years Ago

Who the fuck was buzzing my apartment so early in the morning? I groaned and stood from the bed, my bare legs hitting the cold air. Stumbling around in the dark, I found a pair of sweatpants and pulled them on. Jesus, it felt like I was only asleep for a half hour. Looking at the clock, it was damn close.

I jammed my finger against the button when I reached the door. “What?”

“Barrett?” a timid voice answered.

“Mars?” What was he doing here?

“It’s me.”

“I’ll buzz you in.”

“I n-need… There’s a cab…”

“I’ll be right down.”

I flipped on the light, careful to shield my eyes. This wasn’t one with a dimming switch. It had two modes: off and burn out your retinas. I pulled some cash from inside my wallet, hoping it was enough.

My sneakers sat next to the door, so I quickly pulled them onto my bare feet and grabbed my keys. I didn’t trust these assholes not to come into my home if I left the door unlocked. This was the kind of building where no one looked after anyone else. Except for me. I looked after them. It was my job, after all.

I locked the door and went down two flights of stairs until I got to the front and pulled the door open. The sky was still dark. A streetlight gave off a flickering yellow glow, like it was trying to decide if being on was worth the effort.

My brother stood on the sidewalk with a far too thin coat covering him, a backpack slung over one shoulder, and a duffel bag at his feet. There was also a tall tote bag on his other side. I couldn’t say I was surprised. One day, he was bound to leave or get thrown out. It really could have gone either way where our parents were concerned.

“Will this cover it?” I asked as I held the cash through the open cab window.

The man behind the wheel counted it and was about to hand some back, but I told him to keep it. Being a cab driver in East Dremest, Pennsylvania was a shitty job this time of night, or day, depending on how I looked at it.

“Let’s get you inside,” I told my brother as I picked up the duffel and the tote. They weren’t heavy, not that my brother had a lot. I was shocked he had this much.

It wasn’t until we were inside the apartment with the door shut and locked that I asked, “What happened?”

Marshall stood shivering in front of me to the point his teeth started chattering.

“Okay, let’s get you warmed up,” I said and steered him toward my small couch. The place wasn’t nice, but it had heat, as much as I could afford of it, anyway.

Marshall sat while I went to the bedroom to grab the comforter from my bed. I wasn’t living the life of excess here. There was only so much lying around. The bedding consisted of a comforter, a blanket, and a set of sheets. I could have afforded more, but I knew this day would come when I’d have my brother at my door, needing help.

I draped the comforter over his shoulders, then rounded the couch to tuck it against him. “How’s your head?”

“Ok-kay for n-now.” Fuck, his skin was ice cold.

“How long were you standing on the sidewalk?”

“N-not that. Outside.”

“You were out front of Mom and Dad’s waiting in the cold?”

He nodded, his shaggy dark-brown hair falling into his eyes, before he brushed it away.

“I’m going to make you tea.” At least, I hoped I was. I tried to keep some here in case I caught a cold or the flu.

Rooting through the cupboard, I found a box that was half full and a bottle of honey that had enough left at the bottom for what I was making. I watched as the cup spun in the microwave, the low hum competing with the sound of pipes banging as the heat kicked on. I kept it set at a tolerable level when I was home, not wanting to waste too much on heating. The air wasn’t frigid, but it wasn’t exactly toasty either.

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