by Sybil Bartel
“It’s the middle of the night,” he protested.
“Perfect time for a burger. You like hamburgers?”
He shrugged.
“C’mon. I’ll buy.” Slowly, I stood.
He glanced at her bed and waivered. “I can’t leave her.”
I snorted, I couldn’t help it. “Trust me, she’s not going anywhere.”
“She’s sick,” he blurted out then looked away.
No fucking shit. She was a sick twisted fuck who could die for all I cared. “Let’s get something to eat then we’ll come back and check on her.” I turned for the door, almost convinced he’d follow. I knew he was hungry.
“But if she wakes up, she’ll need her medicine.”
I stopped and looked back at him. “Medicine?”
Gunnar looked down at his feet, then at the wall, his face coloring with something close to guilt. “Yeah.”
“What. Medicine?”
He shrugged. “I can’t pronounce it. I’m supposed to give it to her every six hours.” He still wouldn’t look at me.
He was? “For?”
Another shrug. “Pain.”
She was a goddamn junkie too? “What kind of pain?” I bit out.
He glanced at her then shrank by a foot. “She’s got cancer. In her lung.”
I rocked back on my heels, shocked, enraged, but mostly trying to hide the fact that I was fucking glad. I stared at my brother and for the second time in my life I wanted to apologize. God I wanted to apologize to him. I wanted to tell him how fucking sorry I was he’d been born into this. Instead I cut to the chase. “How long does she have?”
“Until her next dose?” He looked confused.
Fuck me. “No Gunnar, to live. How long does she have to live?” He had to know she was dying. They don’t give painkillers to cancer patients in remission.
He turned away. “I don’t know.” The small voice was back.
Without thinking about it, I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder. He flinched like I’d burned him. He flinched like Carly. He flinched the way I used to. Motherfucker.
I forced my voice to a quiet lull. “I’m not going to hurt you, Gunnar. I will never raise a hand to you, not ever,” I said adamantly, my heart breaking, my soul too angry to ever recover. “Let’s go eat. Leave her medicine out and she can take it if she wakes up before we get back.” I didn’t give a fuck if she got her pain meds, but Gunnar seemed to.
“I can’t. She’ll take too much, she did that once.” He shuddered in fear.
Fear at losing the monster who beat him so bad his arms and legs were covered in welts and bruises. God help me. Ten minutes ago I was going to see Carly. Ten minutes ago I had a life. Ten minutes ago I knew who I was. It was all gone. How the fuck do I do this?
Chapter Thirty-One
Fate
Everything I knew flashed before my eyes. A short reel of my life. My mother. My father. A bruised and broken childhood. Hitting her back. Her eyes. Running. Breaking. The first time I had sex. The first time I played to a live audience. The first time I saw Myles play. Building the Barracuda’s engine. Sex. Sex with nameless women. All the women. All the shows. Writing songs. Carly. God, Carly. Her smile, her smell, her hand in mine, her hair brushing across my chest. All of it.
All of it brought me to this one point. This one point where I finally understood what fate meant. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do next but I knew one thing. “Gunnar.”
Long thin arms, thinner legs, dirty clothes, bruises in all the places you could cover with clothes, he was a mess and he was my brother.
Innocent green eyes met my hardened ones. “Yeah?”
“I don’t know what’s going to happen but I’m going to make you a promise. We’ll figure it out together. I got your back. You don’t know me yet but I got your back. Throw on some pants and grab a jacket. Leave out her next dose if you want but we’re going to eat. Then we’ll take it from there. Okay?”
“Okay,” he whispered, staring at me.
Jesus, he was just a kid. “Get dressed.”
“Okay,” he said a little louder but he still didn’t move.
“Hamburgers,” I reminded him.
“Okay.” He jerked and grabbed for some clothes on the floor then bolted for the bathroom.
Five seconds later he was back in equally dirty jeans and a hoodie. He looked toward her bed and paused.
“Do you want to leave out her next dose?”
Inhaling, he shook his head, pocketed the room key and looked up.
Jesus. He was just a kid. A young, abused, half-starved kid. Selfishly I thought of myself at that age. If I’d looked only half as bad as Gunnar, how the fuck did my father not notice? How could he live with himself doing nothing? I was a kid, just like Gunnar. Christ. I shook my head and wondered if it was even legal to have a kid out at one in the morning.
I grabbed a baseball cap off the dresser and put it on his head. “Let’s roll.”
The night manager ignored us as we walked out. Gunnar looked my car over but said nothing the entire ride. He sat against the door and looked out the window. Right before we walked into the diner, he hunched his shoulders, ducked his head and pulled his hat down low. He didn’t look up, not even to read the menu.
“Order whatever you want,” I told him but he didn’t reply.
“Hey, Graham.” The waitress greeted me cheerfully. She knew Myles and me and we’d tipped her well over the years. She glanced curiously at Gunnar but he didn’t look up. “What can I get y’all?”
“Double cheeseburger, fries, Coke, chocolate shake and cherry pie.” I wasn’t hungry but I wanted Gunnar to eat.
“You got it.” The waitress smiled then looked at Gunnar. “How about you?”
“The same.” He still didn’t look up.
“Okay, be right back with your drinks.”
Gunnar waited till the waitress left then glanced at me. “Are you really my brother?”
I supposed there was a possibility we were half brothers but with the timing of his age and the similarity in our looks, I didn’t think so. “Yep.”
“How come she never said anything about you?”
Same reason she never told him about his father. “I can guess.”
Gunnar waited for me to elaborate.
I had to admit, I liked how he didn’t ask. “Straight up, no bullshit?”
He nodded once, staring at me now.
“She was married to my father. She had him fooled but when he went to work each day, she took it out on me. When I was twelve, I’d finally had enough. She’d hit me one too many times so I hit her back then ran away. My father figured out what was going on, but by then it was too late, I was gone. He kicked her to the curb, came looking for me, then brought me home. That was twelve years ago.” I studied his face, trying to decide how honest to be with him. Then I remembered the first question he’d asked me. “She must have been pregnant with you when my father kicked her out.” Gunnar deserved to know. “When’s your birthday?”
“June.”
I was right. “The timing fits.”
The waitress dropped off our Cokes and shakes, then retreated.
I took a sip of the Coke. Gunnar didn’t touch his.
“Your dad is my dad?” he asked pointedly.
I held his eyes. “You look like him.”
Gunnar’s face turned blotchy, then he looked away.
I got it, he was pissed. “He didn’t abandon you, Gunnar. He doesn’t know about you. I didn’t either, not until I walked into the hotel room. If I’d known, I never would’ve left you alone with her.”
“She’s my mother,” he hissed, enunciating each word.
Damn it. I should’ve been expecting this. Fucking Stockholm syndrome. “Yeah, she is. Doesn’t mean you have to like it.” I kept my voice even.
Gunnar grabbed his shake, pulled out the straw and gulped half of it.
It was getting harder and harder to shove the pulsing rage do
wn. I’d fucking hated her before, but now? Now I wanted her dead.
Our food arrived and I was glad for the brief reprieve. I didn’t have a game plan. I had no idea how to deal with this. I only knew he was not going back to her, no fucking way. Seeing those bruises on his arms and legs—Jesus Christ...all I could say was that she was fucking lucky she was passed out.
Gunnar inhaled his dinner in five minutes flat. I tried not to watch as he shoveled the food in like an animal waiting for the bigger prey to take it from him. He ate every bite and drank the shake but didn’t touch the Coke. When I asked him if he wanted something different to drink he half shrugged and said Sprite. I asked the waitress for one and when she brought it, he drank it down in one breath. Leaning back in the booth, he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked like he was ready to pass out. Dinner was probably more calories than he’d had in the past three days combined.
“You get enough?” I’d order the whole fucking menu if he asked.
He only nodded.
I gave the waitress my credit card and silently cursed that I was out of time. I hadn’t come up with any psychological bullshit on how to deal with him and frankly, I didn’t think if I were him, I’d appreciate that approach. So I went with what I knew. Straight up no bullshit.
“Do you want to crash at my house tonight?”
He eyed me suspiciously. “Are you married?”
“No.”
“Do you live with your dad?”
“No, he lives in Miami. I have my own house. I live alone. You could have your own room.”
He thought a minute. “I have to go back.”
Damn it. “All right.”
The waitress brought my card back. I signed the receipt and shoved out of the booth but Gunnar didn’t move. I tried to read his expression but he was hiding behind the cap. I sat back down. “How about we make a deal?”
He looked up.
“I’ll be honest with you and you be honest with me. We won’t worry about making each other mad, we’ll just tell each other the truth. Deal?”
He shrugged.
I took that as a yes. “What’s on your mind?” I couldn’t ask what was wrong. What was right?
“Are you taking me back to the hotel?”
“Yes.”
He nodded. “Will I see you again?”
“Do you want to?” I didn’t know shit about kids but I knew enough to know I wouldn’t want my hand forced if I were him. I still didn’t.
He half shrugged, half nodded.
“Good, because I want to see you too. How about I take you to breakfast?”
“Here?”
“Sure.” Fuck, my heart was breaking. “C’mon, let’s get some sleep.” I got up and walked out before I changed my mind about taking him back to her.
The drive back was torture. The closer we got to the hotel, the louder my conscience was screaming at me to turn around. I pulled into the lot and cut the engine. When Gunnar reached for the door handle, I stopped him.
“Hold up.” I took a deep breath, then another, but it didn’t help. “You don’t have to go back to her.” How could I do this to him? I was doing exactly what my father had done for me. Nothing. I couldn’t do nothing. And I didn’t want to wait until it was too late and I was forced to do something. Goddamn it, I didn’t know what to do. If I forced him, I was no better than her.
“I have to give her the medicine.”
“We can leave it out for her and come back in the morning.” But I wasn’t hearing him. I wasn’t hearing what he wasn’t saying.
He was shaking his head. “That doesn’t work. She’ll be mad.”
“Let her be mad.” Please let her get mad, then I’d show her mad.
Gunnar flinched and I wanted to beat the steering wheel. Goddamn it. I rubbed my hands over my shaved head and said the first thing that came to mind.
“She was mad before you were born. Whatever you do or don’t do isn’t gonna change that.” He had to know that. He had to know it wasn’t him. Whatever excuse she threw at him was bullshit, she was fucked up. I didn’t think I was saying the wrong thing but I should’ve known better. Worse, I stupidly wondered how much more wrong this whole fucked-up mess could get.
Gunnar’s face contorted and his hands balled into fists. “She’s dying, okay? She’s dying!” He threw open the door, jumped out of the Barracuda and took off.
“Shit.” I ran after him.
Long legs, no weight on him, the kid was fast. He almost made it. If he hadn’t fumbled with the card key he would’ve been in, but I got my boot in against the door jamb. Shoving all his weight on the door, not making a sound, he was strong for a kid but he didn’t have a chance. I pushed in and he stepped back.
Arms rigid at his sides, fists clenched, he was panting with a murderous glare.
I held my hands up. “We said we were gonna be straight with each other. I’m not gonna lie to you.”
“Leave,” he snarled.
A raspy-thin half chuckle, half cough came from the bed. “You kicking your brother out, Gunnar?”
Gunnar spun around and stepped back. The look of shock on his face told me hadn’t really believed me.
I stepped forward. “He’s coming with me.” My tone deadly, I dared her to argue.
She shoved herself up against the headboard with effort. A sneer on her lips, she glared at me. “Get my pills, boy.”
I heard Gunnar scramble behind me but I didn’t take my eyes off her. A few seconds later, she held out a shaking arm. Gunnar reached around me to drop a pill in her hand and she swallowed it dry.
Any stranger would’ve recognized a dying woman in pain but I saw it for what it was, abuser and victim.
Her faded green gaze turned sinister and calculating. “You think you’re a man now?”
I didn’t answer. She wouldn’t get to me.
“I see nothing.” A decrepit twist of a smile distorted her leather face.
“Pack a bag, Gunnar.” I couldn’t imagine what he had worth taking.
Gunnar didn’t move. I looked back at the dying woman I refused to call mother. “You have two choices. You can say goodbye or I can call DCF.”
Sharp, barking laughter erupted from her straining lungs. “You can fucking have him. He’s as useless as you were.” She dissolved into a coughing fit, pointing at Gunnar. “Get!” She choked and the wheezing noise that came next sounded inhuman. “Get the fuck out!”
Gunnar didn’t move.
Quicker than I would’ve thought she was capable of, she snatched a glass off the nightstand and threw it at him. Instinct, years of practice from living her hell, my arm shot out and caught the glass before it hit my brother in the head.
“I said get the fuck out! I’m done paying your way. You’re nothing but a freeloading freak.”
I wanted to smash the glass in her face. I wanted to choke the life out of her. I wanted to kick her in the ribs but I didn’t. Calm, slow, I set the glass down and Gunnar flew into action, scrambling to grab clothes off the floor and shove them into a ripped backpack.
I realized two things.
She was letting him go. Just like she’d let me go twelve years ago. Two sons, two victims who had run their course of usefulness, we had two different reasons why we were set free. I’d gotten too strong, too tall for her to control. She’d gotten too weak to control Gunnar. She knew she was dying. She was letting Gunnar go. And? She’d brought him to me. Somewhere, in the depths of my hatred, I registered that fact.
Gunnar zipped the overstuffed backpack and slung it on his too-thin shoulder. Tears streaming down his face, he strode to the door. Dropping a bottle of pills on the table, he glanced one last time at his mother.
“I hate you.” Shoulders squared, he walked out.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Grief
For two days, Gunnar and I holed up at my house. I cooked, he ate, we watched some TV and he hid in the guest room that was now his. He wasn’t a typical kid. He didn’t play
video games, he didn’t use a computer or have a cell phone, and his backpack was full of stolen library books from around the state, mostly sci-fi shit. I knew he was all kinds of fucked up and he’d need counseling. He also told me he’d missed more school than he’d gone. The road was only beginning for him but I didn’t want to push him until he was ready.
I didn’t tell a soul about Gunnar. I ignored work and told Myles I was sick. Carly was harder. I had an overwhelming desire to see her but I’d brushed her off. She’d sent a text the morning after I’d found Gunnar, Hope everything is okay, missed seeing you last night. I’d texted back and told her I’d call her in a few days, that I had something I had to take care of. Truth was, I was buying myself time. I knew what I needed to do but I was in shock.
At the end of the second day, when Hank called my cell four times in row, I knew something was up.
“This’d better be good.” I didn’t want to deal with club security bullshit right now.
“Where are you? I need to talk to you.” He sounded pissed.
“So fucking talk.” I glanced at Gunnar on the couch next to me. Staring at the TV, he didn’t seem to notice. Still, I was going to have to temper my swearing.
“Not over the phone.”
“Then I guess we’re not talking.” I hung up.
Gunnar glanced at me then back at the TV. “That was cold.” He said it like he was impressed.
My phone rang again. “Change your mind?” I asked sarcastically.
Hank sighed. “She’s dead.”
I heard my heartbeat. I felt air go in and out of my lungs. My vision tunneled to a single point on the wall.
Dead.
Fuck.
“Graham?”
I had nothing. Not one word. Just silence.
“You there?”
Fuck. Gunnar. I was going to have to tell Gunnar.
I sucked in a stilted breath. “When?”
“Don’t know, this morning, last night. The hotel manager called me a few hours ago but I was at the gym. Housekeeping found her, they called nine-one-one but she was already gone. I’m sorry.”