“Son of a bitch!” The words that followed were slurred and so full of anger that I could hear the thickness of spittle that flew from Mick’s mouth. “I warned you to stay away from my family! All these years!”
He was rummaging through boxes. I pulled Wendi closer, waiting to see if Peter would wake up to investigate again so I could catch him before he did.
“I knew she loved someone else! I knew it was you! But this isn’t about her now. We’re done! This is aboutUS!” Mick roared. “Brother versus brother. Only one of us can exist. There’s no room for TWO! Never was!”
The sound of Brando’s voice murmuring to Mick made me feel in paradox—his presence made me feel safe, and it terrified me. What the hell was Mick looking for in those boxes?
“Come on,coward!” Mitch yelled from outside. “You’re going to leave before you’re done with me? You started this—let’s finish it!”
Violet screamed at him to “Shut up! Just shut up! Let it go! Leave. Please!”
“This isn’t about us. And not about you! Not anymore. This is about him and me! He’s always stolen what’s mine! Mama always gave him his way. It wasmytoy, he wanted it, and sohegot to keep it! Then he fucked it up, handing it back to me with a missing piece or two, unable to even function right anymore. Isn’t that the way of things, little brother? The big brother had to sacrifice so the pet could have it all! Even if he really didn’t want it in the first place!”
“No!” I heard Violet gasp.
Then a shuffle—things were breaking, grunts were echoing in the hallway, and Brando must’ve been coming in between them, letting them hash it out, but still attempting to diffuse the situation.
The house was suddenly steeped in silence once again—almost eerie. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine the strong pulsing of heartbeats.One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight… dammit! Nine? Where was it?
My teeth clacked together; my knees, too. My heart stopped, then restarted with a frantic rhythm that made me see stars. Where was the ninth beat?Come on, come on, come on… Where are you! Beat!
I rested Wendi in her bed, her breathing nice and easy, and then went out onto the porch. I was frozen in place by a sight colder than the night.
Brando’s mouth moved, pointing at me—he wanted me back in the house—but I couldn’t hear him, not over the roaring in my ears.
It was as if the entire world had gone silent, all of the breath locked out, and we were all stuck in this abyss, waiting for the outcome, before the air could be let back in.
Mick held a gun in his hand that had been hidden in his back pocket. It was trained on his brother. Mitch held his hands up in surrender. Brando stood outside of their circle, his mouth no longer moving, but I could feel him—inside my heart, in the rushing hum, the only warmth I could feel in my blood—about to make a move to retrieve the gun.
Four things seemed to happen at once—all inside of the span of eight heartbeats.
Mitch lunged for the gun, Violet ran toward the scene, I screamed out Brando’s name in a shrill voice that didn’t even seem to come from me, and a gunshot went off.
A flock of roosting birds flew from the tree, as dark as flying spirits rising up toward a silent heaven with the push of air from the fading ninth beat.
Chapter Thirty-One
Scarlett
After the third attempt, I finally gave up. I set the lipstick down on the counter, my hands too unstable to keep the tube steady enough to apply it to my lips.
Leaning forward, resting my forehead against the cool marble, I could feel the pressure behind my eyes move with me, pounding like two heartbeats in the deep depths of darkness.
The pressure seemed to be pulsating harder than my heart. I had to really listen to the beats to make sure that I was still alive. No doubt that I was. The pain radiating from the center of the organ proved the fact.
It was as if my heart had shrunk to the size of a raisin from the grief, beating slower than normal to accommodate the pain, wishing for solace in its dark cave against my ribcage.
I’m still here, it reminded me,just hurtenough to leave a scar.
Perhaps because I knew what was coming next, the fog that comes with a shocking death receded, and the mental sharpness that should be clouded to protect one’s sanity dissipated in the face of knowledge.
The tree of knowledge of good and evil.
Then again, perhaps the pain was so great that even the numbness that accompanies shock wasn’t strong enough to tame it.
At the moment, pain was stronger than the strength of heart, and it radiated outward in sharp beams, bringing clarity as sharp as daggers, piercing the veil that stands between total blankness and vivid memories.
You know what comes next.
