“Isaac, it’s bad. I don’t know what to do…”
I look at the ceiling and pray for whatever deity’s on duty to send a bolt of lightning into William’s skull.
“Have you called your father?” Never our father, he wasn’t that. That would give him a title he’d never earned.
“No. I’d have to tell him where I am.”
Again, a prayer.
“He’s going to find out anyway. Better he hears it from you. Which meant the club was a strip bar, with lap dancers. And more because this was William and he never understands that he needs to be discreet.
“I’m on my way.” I tucked my phone under my chin while I pulled on black jeans. I could be there in twenty minutes if I ran. The car would be useless.
* * *
William’s in the back of an ambulance when I get there, a blanket over his shoulders, his eyes slightly dilated and I don’t know if it’s with shock or a substance. I’m hoping it’s shock. He doesn’t look harmed in anyway. His face, so unlike mine, is pale and clean shaven – I haven’t been clean shaven since I was fifteen – but there’s no immediate sign of injury.
“What happened?”
He shakes his head.
“William.” It’s never Will. Only the full name, no abbreviations, too much like our father. “I’m going to have to find out.”
“So you can control yet another of my fucked up messes?”
“Precisely.” We’ve been here before. He has a faint echo of ‘woe me’ before putting on the mask that’s become a second skin. I refuse to give him redemption.
“What happened?”
He still doesn’t speak.
I look at the paramedic who’s sitting beside William, checking her phone.
“Can you tell me?”
She looks at the prime minister of this country. “Not without his permission.”
“For fuck’s sake…” I start to head off, not needing this because I’m tired of dealing with someone else’s shit, and it’s shit I don’t believe in.
“Isaac.”
My name makes me pause.
“I was jumped.”
I turn around. “Mugged?”
He nods.
“Where?”
“In the toilets.”
“Why by?”
“Two women.”
For fuck’s sake. “Did they take anything?”
