Page 33 of Code Violation

Paying him a visit while I’m in this kind of mood is probably unwise, but I haven’t seen him in weeks, and my anger shows no sign of wavering. I don’t know how many more times I can show up for this piece of shit, all in the name of keeping a promise to my mom.

“Kane!” I grumble again, only louder this time.

“In here,” an impatient voice calls from the living room.

I don’t bother removing my sneakers. The floors in this place are filthier than the sidewalks, and I don’t plan on staying beyond the next five minutes.

It’s not lost on me that I’m taking a risk, being here. Somehow, I need to straddle the line of making sure he never shows up at Vesper’s apartment again and not revealing how close we’ve gotten over the past few weeks.

Oh, and not beating the shit out of him the second I lay eyes on his smarmy face.

As predicted, his smirk is the first thing I find when I walk into a room that makes the hallway look like a doctor’s office.

It’s fucking disgusting.

“Long time no see, stranger,” Kane slurs, his cold gray eyes are glazed over, and his dark blond hair looks like it hasn’t been washed in days.

I hadn’t planned on taking a seat during my visit, but I couldn’t anyway because trash lines the whole couch. From memory, the cushions used to be a sage green, but from what I can make out today, they look grayer.

My stomach roils at how gross the place is.

Kane has lost all motivation to care for himself or his surroundings, but I still find it hard to muster a shred of empathy or concern. This mess is of his own making and because Vesper has finally stood strong on her decision to leave him.

Pride swamps my chest.

“It fucking stinks in here,” I point out. “This place is a health hazard.”

Kane picks up his latest beer bottle and takes a large pull from it. Unbothered by my observations.

“Where are you finding the funds for that?” I tip my chin at the bottle, knowing for a fact that money is tight since I haven’t wired any cash to him in a while.

He examines the bottle and shrugs, the same grin still playing on his lips. “Took an extra job, delivering takeout.”

I find that hard to believe. The guy can barely hold down his job as an attendant in a gas station, let alone work any more hours.

For the benefit of why I actually came here, I choose to push past the lie about his new job and get down to the point.

“Good thing you have a second job because I don’t think wiring you money is a good idea any longer.”

That wipes the fucking smirk from his face, and he sits up in his chair.

“Why not?”

I motion to the bottle in his hand again. “Because I don’t want to fund a habit that is getting more out of control each time I see you.”

He snarls and flops back into the seat. “The older you get, the more judgmental you become. Mom would be disappointed in you.”

I was waiting on the gaslighting, although I didn’t predict him to start so soon into the conversation.

“I’m not paying for my brother to ruin his liver,” I calmly reply, hating that I have to acknowledge that we’re related. In truth, I’m not paying for Kane to drink to excess and then show up at Vesper’s apartment, demanding access to her floor.

He scoffs. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of how much I’m drinking?”

My next sentence is where I need to be really fucking careful.

“Really?” I aim to sound casual. “Because that’s not what I heard from Vesper when she showed up at one of our games the other night with a friend. She told me that you’ve been stalking her and got kicked out of the building by security.”

I can’t be sure if it’s anger or embarrassment that paints his face red. It’s probably the former because this guy has no shame.