by M. S. Parker
I wasn’t so sure I wanted to be considered something like a brother to Jake now, even though it was the truth.
But if Jake and I were like brothers, was it right for me to be thinking about how Raye would look naked?
No.
Jake would rip my head off.
Hell, I should rip my head off. A girl like her didn’t need some roughneck like me ogling her. Thinking about getting her naked. Wondering what she tasted like or what kind of sounds she made when I…
My phone buzzed, dragging me out of my reverie and I grabbed it from the island. I’d been staring at Raye, I realized.
Raye had noticed, too.
Her pale skin had flushed pink, and she had jerked her gaze away, locking her eyes on Jake.
Good thing the phone had rung before Jake noticed.
That was the last thing I needed.
It was a text from my mother, asking me to call her.
“I need to make a call,” I said to the room at large and slid out of the kitchen into the hallway.
I’d been there often enough and felt comfortable enough to slip into the room that Michelle used as her library. Surrounded by books and the scent of lavender and vanilla, I made my way over to a window as I brought Mom’s contact info up and hit dial.
She answered almost immediately.
“Hi, Kane. Are you busy?”
I thought about the dinner I’d been asked to join. “Not if you need me.”
“You’ve got plans,” she said, worry in her voice.
“Nothing’s ever more important than you, Mom. You know that.”
She sighed. “I hate this, but I need your help. Austen and I had an argument earlier, and he left the house. Honey…I think he went to one of those underground street fights with that boy, Jonas. You remember Greg Haynes who lived across from us?”
“I remember him.” I also remembered his kid. Jonas was a punk. He was also a couple of years older than Austen, and I’d seen him running with the wrong kind of crowd. I had a feeling he had gotten involved with one of the new gangs that had popped up, and that was the last thing my kid brother needed to be involved in.
“Well, I overheard them talking, and Jonas was telling him about these fights. I shouldn’t have lost my temper, but that boy is a rude little shit. I knocked on the door and asked what they were up to. Anyway, we got into an argument after I told Jonas that Austen had school work and couldn’t have company. Jonas mouthed off to me, and I told him to get out of my home and not come back. A few minutes later, Austen left, too! Kane, those street fights are trouble…I don’t know what to do!”
“I’ll handle it, Mom,” I told her, staring outside at the slow drift of snow that had started to fall.
It had been a while since I’d been to the part of town where Jonas had probably taken my brother, but that didn’t mean I didn’t still know my way around. “I need to go.”
I had a few phone calls to make.
Rusty had given me two places to check. To my surprise, he offered to hit the one closest to his place, but I’d passed.
If Rusty went in and found Jonas and Austen, he’d suggest they leave. Austen wouldn’t know Rusty, and he’d follow Jonas’s cue. Jonas was a stupid little shit and might try to mouth off to Rusty. That wouldn’t end well for the punk, and I’d rather my brother not see just how it might end.
Maybe it would scare him straight, but I’d still rather avoid that sort of thing.
The first location was a bust.
Less than thirty people there and none of them were my little brother.
The second location, housed in an empty warehouse well off the beaten path, that was a different story. Almost thirty cars were parked in the lot, and somebody at the door was taking money.
I peeled off the bills needed to get inside. I’d hit an ATM on the way in, knowing I’d need to pony up the entrance fee. They weren’t going to listen to a tale of woe about how I needed to find my brother.
As soon as I got inside, I had a feeling he was in there. It was a younger crowd for the most part, and I recognized a few faces belonging to the guys I’d seen Jonas hanging out with.
A couple of guys saw me prowling around, and I knew I was being sized up. I ignored them. Most of the guys in there, I could take blindfolded, but I wasn’t looking to fight.
Not unless I had to anyway.
I headed to the rough ring set up in the middle of the floor first, searching for a messy head of hair. I struck out, but off to the far left, I heard hoots and hollers and decided to check it out.
A few kids were staggering toward me, and I rolled my eyes as I stepped out of their way. They’d be puking in a few minutes.
One guy crashed into me, half stumbled back a step, then glared at me with baleful eyes. “You should watch the fuck where you’re going,” he said.
I just stared him down.
After a few more seconds, he just sneered and told me to suck his dick before cutting around me to get lost in the crowd. I heard a voice over a crappy loudspeaker setting up the next fight and announcing the odds.
I didn’t turn around.
I found Austen near a couple of kegs, his hair standing on end, his eyes bleary from the effects of booze. When I said his name, he craned his head around, searching for me.
Crossing my arms, I said his name again and waited until he finally sighted on me.
A bright grin lit his face.
“Hey, Kane!” He lifted a red SOLO cup to his lips and drank.
If I had anything to do with it, he’d puke his guts up before he got into my car.
“You here to watch the fights?” he asked. Then his eyes widened. “Are you here to fight? I bet you’d kick everybody’s ass.”
He said it in a voice loud enough to have multiple eyes come my way. I lifted an impassive gaze and waited for somebody to move in on me, but other than a couple of scoffing laughs, nobody reacted.
“How about you keep your voice down?” I suggested. “And get your shit. I’m taking you home.”
“No.” Belligerent now, he pointed at me, still holding the cup, spilling out some of the amber liquid in the process. I caught the pungent aroma of cheap beer as it splashed to the floor. “I ain’t going home. Tired of being treated like a fuckin’ kid. I’m a man, damn it.”
“And look at you, acting like one. You’re so drunk, you can barely see straight.” Looking around, disgusted, I resisted the urge to pick him up and carry him out, but only because I didn’t want to risk getting puked on. It might come to that, but I was going to try talking first. “You run off and scare Mom, shirking your responsibilities, that’s how a man acts?”
“I…” He frowned at me. “Why’s Mom scared?”
I didn’t have a chance to answer because his friend Jonas emerged from the crowd and threw an arm around his neck. “Heeeeeyyyy…Austen. Man. Guess what?”
Austen blinked at him. He’d already forgotten me.
“I put your name down for the next round.”
Aw, fuck.
“That’s it,” I said, grabbing Austen’s cup and throwing it into the nearest upright drum that was close to overflowing with trash. “You and me, we’re out of here, kid.”
Jonas laughed. “No way, dude. He’s up next to fight. He’s going to kick ass!”
I caught Austen’s arm and bent my head until I was nose to nose with Jonas. “Let go,” I said in a flat voice.
Jonas looked at me, then smiled, displaying teeth that were already starting to yellow from nicotine. Shit, he couldn’t be any more than nineteen or twenty. “He’s gotta fight. Name’s down. That’s the rules.”
“He is seventeen years old, you dumbass. If you think you’re going to get him in that ring with some dickhead, think again.”
Jonas jutted his chin up. “Hey, it’s the luck of the draw.”
“Then you go take his place.”
Jonas’s eyes flitted away, but his grin never wavered. “I can’t. I put money on the fight. I’m
not allowed to take his place.”
I shot out a hand and grabbed the punk by the front of the shirt, never letting go of Austen, who’d started to weave on his feet. “The day my brother steps in that ring is the day I put you in a pine box, kid. Now wipe that shit-eating grin off your face before I do it for you.”
Jonas’s face pale the tiniest bit, but as I let him go, a voice came over the loudspeaker. And it said my brother’s name.
Lights shown all around, clearly searching for him.
Jonas threw up his arms and waved them, shouting, “We’re over here.”
“You stupid fuck,” I snapped at him as the light hit Austen and me.
People started to shove at Austen. He promptly went to his knees and puked, a mess of beer and mucous splattering on the floor.
Jonas laughed, a sound that rang out like caged coyotes. “He’s still gotta fight…or you can have fun busting your way out of here,” the boy said.
I turned my head and stared at him. “I ought to bust you you pathetic sack of shit.”
Then, turning to my brother, I hauled him up, and the two of us began walking to the circle. Understanding began to dawn in his eyes. Maybe with some of the booze out of his system, he was realizing what sort of shit he was in. I grabbed his shoulders and shoved him into one of the few empty chairs, then shrugged out of my jacket.
Somebody came prowling over to us. He held a microphone in his hand.
“Which one of you is Austen?”
“That depends,” I said, staring him down. “Who is your fighter, and does he want to take on a drunk, scared seventeen-year-old kid or is he a man?”
A bunch of hoots broke out because my words had been picked up by the mike.
People started to clap, and a big, muscled guy stepped out to join me. “I would have taken it easy on the little punk, just because I’m a nice guy,” he said, grinning at me. “I won’t take it easy on you.”
“Good.” I was fucking pissed.
As I took one step forward, I looked out into the crowd and searched for Jonas’s gaze. Once I had his attention, I smiled. Then I focused on the man in front of me and waited.
He swung…fast, low, and hard.
I sidestepped, trapped his arm and struck at his elbow with all the force I had in me. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see bone burst through skin.
He hit the ground screaming.
“I think we’re done here.” As everybody fell silent in stunned shock, I hunkered down next to him. In a low voice, I added, “I find out you’re ever roughing up kids in one of these fights, I’ll come back for you and break every bone in your fucking pathetic body. You hear me?”
When I stood up, I sought Jonas out once more.
He stared at me with wide eyes and a pale face.
Even from where I stood, I could see his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.
Pathetic little sack of shit.
I got Austen home and tucked into bed within an hour.
He stayed there maybe five minutes before he bolted upright and hit the bathroom, on his knees and hurling like a champ.
Mom and I stood in the hallway, listening.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“No need to thank me.” I shrugged, thinking of the shit my brother would have been in if I hadn’t found him. “He done something like this before?”
“Run off like that? Or hang out with Jonas?” She didn’t wait for an answer, just shook her head. “No to both. He’s just…lately, he’s so angry. He’s so determined, so convinced he’s already a grown-up and…” She threw up her hands, a helpless look on her face. “I feel like I’m losing him.”
She didn’t say it out loud, but there was a subtle tension between us. Like I almost lost you.
“You’re not going to lose him,” I told her. I reached out to her with one hand, and when she took it, I tugged her in close for a hug. She felt fragile against me, but my mother had a core of pure steel. She’d needed it after Dad was killed in the bodega where he’d been working overtime to save money back when she was pregnant with Austen.
Sometimes, I wondered if all that anger he held inside was because he blamed himself.
It was stupid, because it wasn’t his fault. But we didn’t always think clearly when it came to family. There had to be something that would explain the sullen, simmering anger that lurked inside him lately.
“I’ll talk to him again,” I told Mom as the toilet flushed.
“What should I do in the morning?”
I don’t know if she was talking to me or not.
Meeting her eyes, I asked, “Are you off?”
She’d worked up to regional manager for the small chain of grocery stores she’d been at for years, so I doubted the answer would be yes. She had her weekends and holidays off, but her work week was still often a fifty hour one.
She scoffed. “I’m the manager. If I need to go in late for once, I can.”
And she’d bust her ass to make up for it, too.
But I knew nothing I said would change her mind if she’d decided to go in a little later, either.
“Make him breakfast,” I told her with a wry grin. “Turn on all the lights, bright and early. Make a lot of noise. And make him breakfast. Bacon and eggs…make the eggs good and runny, too. Make sure he has some ibuprofen or something for that headache. But don’t do anything else to help with the hangover he’s going to have. Maybe that will teach him. I know he ended up getting his ass good and scared tonight. Who knows? It might be enough.”
But I wasn’t betting on it.
Twelve
Raye
It was a full day later, and I still couldn’t wrap my brain around the fact that I’d met my brother.
Jake had told me a little about his childhood and growing up, stories that had made me laugh even as pangs of wistfulness and envy stirred inside. It wasn’t that I was jealous of him, per se. It was just…he had the childhood I’d wanted. I was glad he’d had it. I just wished I could have had it, too.
Through his eyes, I was able to learn a little more about my father, and as the evening grew later, part of me was maybe, a little, more willing to admit that it was possible my mother had lied to me. Maybe she hadn’t told Leland about me, or maybe she had. And if she did, maybe he’d wanted a relationship with me, and she wouldn’t allow it.
So many maybes. I just didn’t know.
Even though they were estranged, Jake offered to introduce me, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, so I told him no.
For now, at least.
It was enough to know that I did have family, somebody other than my mom, and judging by the way Jake lived, I’d never have to worry that he’d ever call me early one morning, sounding all happy to talk to me, just to turn around and beg for a loan. I could have somebody who wanted a relationship with me for me…and not just to use me.
It was a mind-boggling thought.
It had been so long since my mother and I’d had any sort of decent relationship, I couldn’t fathom what it would be like to have somebody I could count on in my life.
“Your head is up in the clouds today,” a voice behind me said. I turned around and saw my manager eyeing me closely. “Are you okay?” Pauline cocked her head, her cat-eye glasses not quite concealing the gleam in her eyes.
“I’m fine.” The urge to babble out my news rose to my lips, surprising me. I liked Pauline. We’d even had drinks together a couple of times, but I wouldn’t go so far as to call us confidantes. Maybe it was because the news was so different, and felt so…well, good compared to the things I normally had going on.
A bell chimed at the door signifying the arrival of a customer. Pauline patted me on the shoulder. “You just keep straightening up tables and stocking. Once your head is on straight, you’ll deal with customers. Just don’t take too long,” she advised.
I nodded numbly, hearing one of my co-workers, Janelle, as she called out, greeting the new arrival.
A m
an’s voice filled the air, oddly familiar, but I kept at the task at hand, not turning around.
Jake had given me his cell number and asked if I wanted to get lunch on Saturday, just me and him. Of course, I’d said yes, but now I was wondering if we should.
What would we talk about?
He’d told me all about his family. Would he want to know about my mother? Hell. What could I tell him?
That would be nothing more than a lesson in embarrassment and discomfort. My mom loves me, but she’s…flighty. She brings home these boyfriends who think it’s okay to flirt with me. No, nobody ever did anything, but how creepy is it to have the guy who sticks his tongue down your mother’s throat turn around and tell you how hot you are in the next breath?
There weren’t any funny, awkward stories to tell him like he’d told me.
I could tell him about the days I’d dressed in my best hoping that just once, Mom would show up for one of the parent/student functions. But she never had. Those weren’t funny. Just awkward.
I could always tell him about the time she’d gotten me a goldfish for Christmas. She’d at least tried that time. But the poor thing had been dead by the time I came down to open presents.
Mom’s words of comfort… Well, I tried, honey.
That was what I’d clung to. She’d tried.
No. Telling him about my childhood wasn’t going to be high on my list of topics to talk about. Nor was college. Making a face, I finished smoothing down the rainbow river of silk and lace panties on the table I’d just finished then returned to the back of the store.
Bras were next on the list, so I mentally re-inventoried the store and went to fill a box with what was running low.
I could always talk about school – here at NYU, at least. I’d rather not talk about my time at Texas A&M to anybody. Ever.
With the box full, I slid back outside. Leaving the box on a chair near the stockroom entrance, I took several of the bras and headed over to the nearest table, still pondering things that were safe to discuss with a brother I barely knew. I took care of one side and turned to circle around.