Page 12 of Fighting My Demons

I am petrified, and this is humiliating. The last thing I need is for someone I am working with to know about my sloppy, fucked-up family. And the last thing I need is for them to become nosy and look into my past. I have done everything I can to put that behind me, except for the constant harassment of my brother popping in and out of my life constantly threatening to undo everything I have worked so hard for if I don’t meet his demands and do what he wants. I can’t risk everything, which is exactly why I don’t date. No one would understand the weird arrangement between my brother and me. Well, it isn't really an arrangement, but I am not willing to say no to him. He could literally destroy my life or kill me without so much as blinking or battling an eye. My brother is right. I owe him, and I have a funny feeling that no matter how much I give, it will never be enough to make up for what he’s done for me.

“Ten minutes, and I will be back, Bella,” Xavier says, gripping my chin between his fingers.

“Ten minutes,” he repeats, and I nod before he lets go and walks down the steps, heading toward the office downstairs.

Walking to my apartment door, I push it open before stepping inside, trying to figure out how the hell to get rid of my brother before he returns. I worry not only about what he would do to Xavier but also about what my brother would do to me.

Chapter Seven

“About time you got back,” Brian says the moment I walk into the apartment. A sneer creeps on his face as he takes in my appearance.

“You look like shit. What happened to you?” he asks, and I place my bag on my granite countertop before quickly closing the door.

Shutting the door, I hear Brian move behind me before hearing him rummaging through my bag. Turning around, he has his hands in my handbag, taking my wallet out. I take in his appearance; he is wearing jeans and a tank top. He looks bigger than when he went to prison last, his hair cropped really short, and he has more prison tattoos covering his arms and neck. He also hasn’t shaved in a long time, his stubble thick and turning into a beard.

“I know you have more than this?” he says, taking the money out of my wallet and waving the bills in the air.

“You need to leave. I have a friend coming over,” I tell him, though I would hardly call him a friend. Still, I hoped that my lie would be enough to make him leave.

“Who? That girl? What’s her name? That bimbo you were a secretary with?”

“Just a friend, Brian. You need to leave before they get here.”

Brian’s lips tug up cruelly, a look I have seen a million times on his face when he doesn’t like how I speak to him, but I am almost frantic. If Xavier comes in while Brian is still here, it will be a problem .

“It’s a man, isn’t it? You think some man can protect you from me?” He chuckles darkly, and my stomach drops. That is far from what I am worried about. More worried about getting Xavier killed for merely bringing me home.

“Is it a boyfriend?” Brian says, taking a menacing step forward, and I step back as I watch his hands clench into fists at his sides.

I shake my head. “No, just someone from work.”

“A man?” he asks, and I don’t answer. He sighs, running his hand down his face.

“I want your car keys then,” he says, digging through my bag, though I am a little shocked that he is actually leaving.

The last time he saw me with a man, he beat the poor bloke bloody, and he was only a handyman who just happened to be fixing the air conditioning in my apartment at the wrong time. Brian was charged, and luckily, the landlord knows what my brother is like, having dealt with him many times trying to break into my apartment over the years.

“Hurry up if you want me to go, or I will gladly meet your new boy toy,” he spits at me.

“Such a fucking whore, damn embarrassing the way you throw yourself at any man,” he spits, rummaging through my bag.

I fight the urge to tell him to fuck off, knowing he would see that as a challenge, and the last thing I want is for him to break my arm again.

“What’s the pin number?” he asks, grabbing my card out.

“I am not telling you my pin number,” I tell him, knowing he would clear out my bank accounts, like he did a few years back.

He stalks over to me, gripping my hair. “Don’t forget our arrangements, sis.”

My hair rips painfully from my scalp, and I cry out at the sudden pain.

“Pin number. Now,” he demands, and I rattle off the four-digit pin before he shoves me away.

“Keys, and I will be back later on to return your card,” he says, when I realize I still don’t have my keys and that Xavier still has them.

“Keys, Bella,” he says impatiently, and I shake my head.

“I don’t have them. My friend does. He is downstairs. I will go get them. Meet me at my car,” I tell him while turning on my heel to head for the door.