I force my good eye to stay open, realising I’m lying on the couch. My vision doubles as I drag my body upright and he comes into my line of sight—that motherfucking cunt Bruce. He’s staring at me, a long hunting knife in his right hand and a snarl twisting his vile face.
“Where’s Bren?” I ask, touching my eye, then my lip. My right eye seems to be swollen shut, and there’s dried blood around my mouth and down my chin.
“He’s doin’ whatta man’s supposed to do.” He turns the knife over in his hand, the blade catching the light.
I don’t understand what that means. I just need to know if Bren’s alright.
It’s nighttime, I think. The curtains are closed, and a lamp is on. How long was I out? It must have been hours. Shit, I think I’m going to puke.
I gag, but nothing comes up. I need to find Bren.
Then I hear moaning. A girl’s voice. What the fuck? Is this a nightmare?
“Who’s… What’s goin’…” I ask, the pain inside my head pounding against my skull like a bass drum.
Bruce laughs with a satisfied chuckle, and I gag again. “Brendan is getting his dick wet in that cute little slut Tiffany.”
No! Bren wouldn’t do that. He just wouldn’t. He’s gay and he loves me.
I throw up on the floor. The smell is rancid, the sour acidic taste putrid in my mouth.
“Stupid fuckin’ fag. You’ll be cleanin’ that up.” Bruce stands and walks over to me, bringing the knife to my throat. I dare not move. He’s fucking crazy and I wouldn’t put it past him to actually kill me. Bren has told me he’s almost certain Bruce murdered a guy who stole product from him.
Bruce leans forward, wrinkled, ruddy skin in my face. “If I ever catch ya around Brendan again, I’m gonna cut off your fuckin’ dick and then slit ya throat. Ya understand?”
I nod the tiniest amount, the tip of the knife grazing my throat.
“Good, now clean up this vomit and get the fuck outta my house.”
Bruce walks down the long hall towards Bren’s bedroom and stops. He pushes the door slightly ajar and stares inside. What a fucking pervert. I don’t want to believe Bren would cheat on me, and my heart burns with the sting of betrayal. Tiffany has been chasing Bren, and I know she would’ve come running the moment he called her. The thought of him sticking his dick inside her brings bile racing back up into my throat. I swallow it down.
Standing shakily, I head into the kitchen, grabbing some paper towel and disinfectant from under the sink. I almost pass out cleaning the vomit, but I get it done. I want to see Bren, need to see him, and I will. But right now, I can’t be here. I can’t see him emerge from his bedroom with Tiffany. I can’t look him in eye right after he’s fucked her.
On unsteady legs I get myself to the front door and outside, the cold night air making me more alert. I know Bren must be injured too because there’s no way Bruce let him off without a beating. When I get home, I’ll call him. We’ll work this out. I’ll try to forgive him for fucking her. Because there ain’t a thing Bruce can say or do that will stop me from seeing Bren. The evil old bastard can go fuck himself.
Chapter 16
Kyle
Now
Somehow, I make it home, even though I have no memory of driving. I head upstairs, wanting to crawl into bed, then I remember Jeff and the crew are still working in the ensuite.I need them out of the house. Blinking away tears, I try to compose myself before walking into the bathroom.
“Sorry guys, family emergency. You’ll have to finish up for the day.” They all turn and stare, so I figure I must look as shit as I feel.
“No worries, mate. We’ll just pack up and get out of here,” Jeff says. “I hope everything’s okay, man.”
“Yeah, can you just do it fast?” I step out of the ensuite and wait, listening to Jeff make a phone call.
“Hey Brendan, just letting you know we’re finishing up at the Johnson house early today. The client has an emergency.” There’s silence while Bren replies, then: “Sure thing, boss. See you Monday.”
I follow them downstairs to see them out, then return to my bedroom, crawling into bed and hiding under the covers.
I sob. I’m not coping. I’ve been spiralling for days, agitated and hyper, my mind jumping from one thought to the next. It’s all been too much lately. Bren coming back into my life, deciding to study, realising I’ve let Lu down, and, on top of all that, I still need to find a divorce lawyer. I really want to call my brother, needing a voice of reason, but I doubt he’d have any sympathy, and I can’t blame him.
There’s blood on my shirt sleeve—Bren’s blood—and hasn’t there already been too much blood shed between us? Did our love only ever cause pain?
Snatches of sickening memories stain the back of my eyes. Maybe Bren’s right and we were never good for each other. Not back then and certainly not now. What fucking right do I have to do this to him, anyway? To push myself on a man that has clearly moved on and doesn’t feel the same. A happily married man. I need to stop. I owe him that much at least.
