We spend most of our evenings alone together watching Netflix, having lots of sex and occasionally going out in public for necessities like groceries and condoms.
So far I had been able to keep Lacey to myself. Hoarding her affection and goodness alone in this apartment while the world keeps spinning outside these walls.
“Two sugars and a splash of cream?” She calls out, double checking his coffee order.
“That’s right.” Chris answers in an overly innocent tone that doesn’t fit the version of him I know. “I love cream though. Give me a little more.”
There is was.
Lacey either ignores the comment or the innuendo goes over her head. Likely the latter.
His tone was discreet enough to fool someone that hadn’t grown up with him and been fully acquainted with his sense of humor.
My jaw clenches as she flitters in with Chris’s plate and steaming coffee mug.
“Thanks sweetie.”
Sweetie? What the fucking fuck?
He takes the plate and digs in while pretending he can’t see my death glare. The smile he’s fighting tells me he sees it just fine.
Lacey grabs the two remaining plates and squeezes onto the loveseat next to me, leaving Chris alone on the sofa. He doesn’t seem to mind since this gives him a better view of her bare legs curled underneath her comfortably as she cuddles into my side.
I shift closer to her and rest my hand on her upper thigh in a move to mark my territory. As if it wasn’t already obvious enough that I want him to back off. Lacey, affectionate as always, leans into me while the three of us eat our breakfast in dead silence.
It’s not hard to pick up on the tension between me and Chris. From the glances she’s casting between the two of us I know Lacey can sense something is wrong. She can feel it in my tensed arm that she’s leaning into. Besides, I didn’t exactly give him a warm welcome when I found him in my living room and we hadn’t said two words to each other since.
There’s a lot I’d like to say to him. But in front of her? I can’t.
When she finishes her breakfast she takes both of our plates to the sink, rinses them off and settles back next to me with her coffee mug in hand. The hot drink has cooled considerably while she ate and it was her favorite temperature now. Luke warm.
Curiosity lights her eyes and I know she wants to figure out what’s going on between us.
“I didn’t know you were hiding such a beautiful girl from the family, bro.” Chris announces as he sets his own plate on the coffee table in front of him. He downs the rest of his coffee as if taking a shot.
My jaw clenches involuntarily. I see his comment as the veiled threat it is and I feel Lacey shift uncomfortably away from me. It dawns on me that she must be thinking he’s implying I’m ashamed of her. That I’m hiding her away like some sort of dungeon troll. That couldn’t be further from the truth.
The girl needs to get her head checked if she thinks she isn’t the most beautiful, desirably sweet and woman I’ve ever met. The perfect blend of innocent and naughty.
It was a courtesy to her to keep her from my family. But of course she didn’t see that because I hadn’t told her much about them. If anything I was ashamed of them. Of myself for being anything like them. For having ties to them despite their lifestyles.
Not of her.
“You never told me you had a girl. I would’ve come by sooner to meet her.”
His eyes zero in on her chest. She doesn’t notice. Her eyes are fixated on her lap awkwardly, cheeks tinged with pink. I can’t stand him looking at her another second, his mind calculating God knows what kind of plans and schemes.
Enough is enough.
“Lacey go get dressed.”
She looks up at me in surprise. My tone was harsher than I had intended. The stress of this situation is eating away at me but I can’t take it out on her. It’s not her fault I dragged her into this moment without warning or preparation.
I hate the hurt in her eyes as she stands up to change. She thinks I want her to leave because I don’t want her to meet my family and that’s exactly the case but not for the reason she thinks. But I don’t get to explain any of that before she disappears in my bedroom to put more clothes on and hide herself from my pervert of a brother.
“Stop looking at her.” I demand quietly, not wanting her to hear.
“What?” He shrugs as if it’s no big deal and kicks his feet up on my coffee table, muddy boots and all. “She’s cute.”
He seemed to be saying it casually as a compliment to me for being able to get such a cute girl. But I knew him better. I heard the suggestion in his voice and hated that I ever gave him a reason to think this would be my plan with Lacey.
“It’s not like that.”
“Isn’t it always like that? Dad would love this one. You’d be the golden boy again. Like when you brought him Natalie.”
His tone holds a hint of bitterness. My stomach churns at the mention of my past. I had done a lot of shit for my dad I wasn’t proud of. Natalie was one of them. Chris and I had grown up bringing girls home. Luring them in as if we liked them and then leading them right to his web.
Sometimes we actually did like them. At least I did.
Dad coached us to do his dirty work as far back as I can remember. We both foolishly chased after his approval. What we thought was a father’s love. I suspect Chris still chases after Dad’s approval though the man didn’t possess an ounce of love, decency or compassion. Chris had to have discovered that by now no matter how disappointing the realization was.
Approval? He didn’t possess much of that either. But Chris was still searching for that and I wasn’t going to be the bearer of bad news.
“No.” I warn. “Don’t go there.”
He throws his hands up in mock surrender, still openly amused by my reactions.
As teens we had competed to bring Dad the prettiest girls we could find. The winner of the week got to be in Dad’s good graces for a brief moment in time. His pride and joy in the sickest and most twisted of ways. He bragged about us to his friends at the bars and let us order a beer with him. Boosting us up and making us feel like men.
That wasn’t what a man was supposed to act like. I know this now.
I doubt Chris has changed much in the last two years. The girls that stayed had always been willing, albeit deeply deceived. Once we brought them home Dad pretended to be a cool parent, letting us drink and smoke weed. This was his strategy to make the girls think he was fun. Trustworthy.
That he wasn’t the enemy like many of their parents were.
Step two was for one of us to sleep with the girl and make her feel desired. This made them more compliant when Chris and I convinced them they really wanted to work for Dad. They wanted to sell their bodies for him because they were so beautiful it would be a shame to let that opportunity slip by.
Soon Dad was taking all their money and convincing them it was okay because they were living in his house and he was taking care of them in every way they could need. He got them birth control.
Clothed them.
Fed them.
Some went home to their families before things got too out of hand. Those were the ones with decent parents and dignity. The ones with a place to go back to. Others were stuck between a rock and a hard place. Stuck with us.
Chris and I were merely pawns in this game, helping him lure in pretty young girls that could make him money.
Threats kept me halfway under his thumb and I knew it would always be that way. Fear kept me rooted in place and I hated that. Hated feeling like a coward. All it took was a flash of my mom’s face in my mind and I knew what would happen to me if I didn’t comply with whatever he demanded.
Prostitution wasn’t even his main source of income or his darkest. Drugs, gambling and hired hits were among his other specialties. When we grew older we got dragged into each of those activities as well. I wasn’t interested in being a pawn anymore in any of these areas.
&
nbsp; So yeah. I knew why Chris had mud all over his boots and why he would be digging holes in the woods before the sun even came up.
And it wasn’t good.
“What the hell are you even doing here?” I ask as I scrub a hand over my face and close the door on those old memories. I didn’t want to be that guy anymore. I wasn’t that guy anymore.
This question sobers him and the amusement drains. “I need a place to crash for a few days. I didn’t expect anyone to be here with you.”
“Why can’t you stay at Dad’s?”
He stares at me with a blank expression. A dead expression.
“I just need a place to stay.” He snaps. “Can I stay here or do you want me to leave?”
Oh I wanted him to leave alright. But he was still my brother. So with a heavy sigh I agree to let him stay for a few days.
“You can stay. Does he know you’re here? I don’t want him coming around here looking for you.”
The bedroom door opens and out walks Lacey. She’s in dark wash skinny jeans covering her legs and a fitted Red Valley Bears t-shirt. The tight line of her lips as she reaches for her purse next to the couch sends a knot into my stomach.
“Wait, angel.”
Shit. There were tears welling up in her eyes and I could tell she was fighting to hold them off. Having her here any longer with the family drama was a bad idea but I couldn’t let her leave looking so hurt and devastated.
“Come outside with me.” I follow her outside, leaving my brother behind in the living room and waste no time explaining. “It’s not you, I promise. It’s him. I don’t want you around him.”
“It’s ok.” She refuses to look at me.
“Lace, please. Look at me.” She finally lifts her eyes to mine and I pull her in for a soft kiss needing the connection as much I need to reassure her. “I just wanted to keep you for myself.”
A surprised laugh chokes out of her and she swipes under her eyes. “I know you don’t want a commitment and that’s fine. But…I can’t be your dirty little secret.”
“You’re not. I swear you’re not.” I tangle my fingers in her hair and press her back against the brick wall of the apartment building. “You don’t understand.”
And I couldn’t tell her. Couldn’t let her know about my past or my fucked up family. She would know where I disappeared to on the weekends when I work for my dad and I couldn’t bear to see the look on her face when she connects all the dots.
Drug dealing, collecting loans or dishing out warnings in the form of broken legs. Digging holes when Dad was pissed at me, knowing it was one of the shittiest jobs he could task out. Picking up and dropping off girls all evening with their johns.
He always had a different job description for each day. I never knew what I was going to get. It’s one of the many reasons I dreaded his calls so much. The unknown was something you could never really prepare yourself for.
Since we had taken on more advanced roles for Dad he didn’t expect us to bring him prospective girls anymore. I hadn’t done it in years. If he set his sights on Lacey that’s what he would expect of me though and I would completely lose my shit.
This was exactly why I didn’t date to begin with. I knew what it would lead to and I didn’t want that hanging over my head or weighing on my conscious.
“I can’t understand if you don’t tell me.” She whispers against my lips.
“I can’t tell you. Please. Don’t ask.”
She sighs and pulls away from me, getting into her car without another word. She gives me a sad smile through the window before driving home and leaving me standing in the parking lot alone.
✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧
Chris ends up crashing at my house and I slowly coax out the reason he has nowhere to go. He stole drugs from Dad on the ruse he would be selling them. Not just any drugs. Heroin.
My brother was shooting up heroin.
That explained the pallor skin and dark circles under his eyes. He had been high out of his mind when he showed up at my apartment openly scoping out Lacey. As soon as he told me the story of stealing two pounds of heroin from Dad for him and his supposed friends I told him he needed to go to rehab.
He refused.
Granted it wasn’t a huge amount in terms of what he was used to selling, Dad was likely enraged on principle. No one stole from him. No one. Especially not one of his sons. He killed people for less. Deep down Chris had to be terrified despite his outer bravado.
I still wanted to knock his ass out. Just for a different reason now.
Two days into his stay at my apartment, after roughing it through detox on my couch, my dad’s number flashes across the screen of my phone. Chris’s face pales as he sees it flashing on the table between us.
I hesitate. “If I don’t answer it he’s going to get pissed.”
“I know.” Chris gestures to the phone, urging me to answer before Dad hangs up. He would probably show up in person if I didn’t answer and I imagine that would be even worse.
I wouldn’t know for sure. I had never ignored a call from him in my life. I knew better than to do that.
I slide my finger across the screen right before it goes to voicemail.
“Hey.”
“I need you tonight.” He barks out cutting right to the chase.
There was no time for pleasantries when there was money to be made. Stress and anxiety flood my system as I stare across the table at Chris, wanting to punch him in the damn face for bringing this on me tonight. Dad didn’t call on me for help as often as when I lived at home, before moving here for college and a ruse of freedom.
Only when Chris was busy. Or MIA.
He was the son he always wanted. The son he could depend on. Except when he made the mistake of giving him a kilo of heroin.
“Ok.” I agree, not having a choice in the matter. That much was made clear the moment I moved into my own apartment in the condo Dad owned and started my first college class. I was still at the asshole’s beck and call. It was impossible to escape his reach.
He hangs up on me before I can say anything else. He won’t tell me what I’ll be doing over the phone anyways. I know the drill. I’ll have to wait until I get to the house to be tasked out.
My stomach knots.
“You ever think about offing him?” Chris asks, pulling me from my thoughts as I drop the phone on the table in front of me.
“Every fucking day.”
“Me too.”
That surprises me. He has a cup of coffee in front of him which he brewed in the coffee maker Lacey left behind. I haven’t heard from her since she left the apartment the other day even though I tried texting her four times. Chris walks back to the counter and pours himself a fresh cup.
“Dad’s a fucking monster. Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you think I’m the same way. Like you think I worship the guy.”
Again this surprises me.
“Don’t you?”
“I did I guess. At one point. Didn’t you?”
“No. I was just scared shitless of him. And you.”
“Me?” Now it’s his turn to sound genuinely surprised by my statement. I guess this is a day full of them.
“Yeah. You.”
“I would never hurt you, Max. You’re my brother. My only brother.”
“Why do you want to be like him?”
“I don’t.”
“Then why are you like him?”
Now he’s pissed. He slams his hands down on the coffee table, making it rattle from the force.
“I’m not like him godammit. I don’t have a choice. I’m not like you. I can’t go to college. I didn’t even graduate high school for fuck sake. I don’t know how to do shit except work for Dad.”
Now I’m pissed too. What a cop out. Did he think it was easy for me to leave and try to change my life for the better? All while constantly getting pulled back into the family vortex?
“That�
�s not true. You didn’t even try.”
“That asshole wouldn’t let us both go, Max. He wouldn’t and you fucking know it.”
“That’s a cop out.”
“You little shit. I’ve been working for him twice as much these last couple years so you can worry about school and stay out of this shit. Don’t fucking talk to me like I’m stupid. Why do you think he hardly calls you anymore? It’s sure as shit not because he respects that you’re a fucking college boy now. I don’t get a fucking day off from him. I’m there doing his shit jobs every. Single. Day.”
He drops his mug in the sink with a heavy clank and stomps off to my bathroom. The door slams shut. The shower spray comes on shortly after and I don’t see him again before it’s time for me to head to Dad’s.
For the entire half hour drive I reflect on what Chris said back at the apartment. I grip the steering wheel tightly and zip recklessly around other cars that drive too slow.
It’s not like I’m in a rush to get to Dad’s and get assigned some ridiculous task. I just have too much energy racing through my veins. Flying through these streets behind the wheel somehow makes me feel like I have control over something reckless.
I can’t believe this shit. Chris was trying to blame me for the last two years of shitty choices he made. Was it my fucking fault he was shooting up heroin too? My fist collides with the dash, cracking the AC vent and cutting my knuckle.
The pain feels welcome.
My thoughts immediately go to Lacey and the way her tiny fingers worked to clean up my bloody knuckles the first night we met. And then again the next day when I busted them upside her ex’s face.
Who was going to tend to them this time? No one.
Her ignoring my texts these last couple days was definitely in her best interest. I knew that to my very core. Hell, I was the one that told her I would never be good enough for her. Maybe she actually listened for once.
But that didn’t stop me from missing her. I missed the sound of her voice, singing or talking. The sight of her spread out across my bed. The feel of her delicate hand in mine. Her laughter when I told a stupid joke.
Sparks Fly (Davis Brothers Book 1) Page 11