“Well, apparently…I need to get laid. And I’m‘durcressed’, according to Mom. Am I missing anything, or does that cover it? You’re a real asshole, by the way.” I turned and pulled the sheet down, starting back up on Mr. Wexler.
“That conversation didn’t go like you thought. Mags is worried about you. Everybody’s worried about you.”
I fired the embalming machine back up. “You act like that’s not a daily occurrence, Greg. I’ve never had the luxury of personal fucking space.I’m fine. Could you just, for once, let me work in peace?”
“You’re not fine, Sev. And we might give you shit, but it’s because you’re loved, and you know it. It’s different when we see a change and you shut us out like the plague. It’s that guy, isn’t it? The delivery boy?”
Dammit, Malek…
My gloves slapped on top of cold dead skin and I silently apologized, shutting the machine off again. I spun around to face him. “He’s not a delivery boy, Greg. And you wouldn’t believe meif I told you. And I really don’t feel like getting my ass handed to me, or listening to you be a fuckingJudgy McJudgerson, either. Trust me. You don’t wanna know, and it’s better if you just let me navigate it by myself.”
His arms folded and he leaned forward. “Try me. And you were happy. We all saw it. Whatever it is, I know you were better off with the dude in your life, so start talkin’ or I’ll beat it outta you anyway.”
It’s been two of the longest months of my life. I’m not handling it well. I wear this necklace every day, when I promised him in that coffin that I’d let him go and pretend he’s the worst thing to ever walk the Earth. I’ve almost trashed the Girthmaster twelve times, just out of spite, and dug it out of the can every time. I don’t have a friend to talk to about it, because the only one I actually made just happens to be hissister. I have no one, I can’t go to therapy, and honestly…they’re not wrong. My baby just came in here sad becauseI’msad. Greg is gonna lose it. Maybe I’ll just leave out the part where there were people watching this house. But if I don’t talk to him, then he’ll involve Mom and Dad…and hell no.
“I’m not saying a word until you go across the street and get chicken salad. And I want mud pies, or no deal.”
“Fine. You got two days to finish Wexler. Ice him. Take a day. I can’t concentrate on anything you’re saying with an open chest cavity sittin’ right there.” I snickered and palmed my forehead.
“Greg, you have toswearthis stays between us, or I’ll never tell you another damn thing. I’ll quit, I’ll move…I mean it.” The look on his face completely changed. He knows it’s serious now. All the brotherly snark left him completely.
“You have my word.”
We talked for almost three hours, and for once in his damn life…my brother is eerily quiet. His mouth has hung open for most of this conversation and I can’t blame him for it. It’s opennow, and I have no idea what to say now that all the cards are laid out on the table.
“Say something, please.”
He dragged his palms down his face and blinked while he slowly shook his head, sighing. “I’m—I’m just…processing.”
“Can you process with something other than stunned silence? I knew I should have just—”
“I’m sorry, no. It’s not that, I just…I’m the worst fucking brother in the world.” My eyebrows nearly obstructed my vision. How could he possibly… “My baby sister was kidnapped and locked in a basement, and I didn’t evenknowit?” That image of us looking down in the casket at Annaliese Montague got stuck on replay in my mind.
“Greg, you’re an amazing brother. It wouldn’t be right if you weren’t a nosey, annoying pain in my ass. You couldn’t have done anything, and it was my own damn fault.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m supposed to protect you.”
Everything I just told him. The fact that I have a side gig covering up actualmurder…and this is what’s hitting him the hardest? He’s not even gonna bat an eye at the fact that we let a killer through the front fucking door? Or that he busted me after I let him eat my insides out in this basement? It hit me pretty hard then. I looked at Greg, destroyed and hurt, not because I’ve been dishonest, but…because my brother is a good man. And theydoactually exist. I slid off the edge of the metal table and stood in front of him, wrapping my arms around him and hecrushed me in a tight hug. I can’t remember the last time we actually did this. Can’t get over how much I’veneededit.
“Tell me you’re done with that shit, Sev. Never again. Why isn’t this enough?”
“I am. And it’s always been enough, Greg, it just took me going through some shit to realize it. I’m gonna be fine.” He pulled back and shook his head.
“Not until you realize that this Malek guy is therightguy. Where is he?”
Well, now I’m just pissed.
I broke away and my arms shot out to the sides. “How the hell can you say that after I just sat here and explained that he’s anexecutionerfor the fucking Irish mob? And I don’t know where he is. That’s what letting go means.”
“But youhaven’tlet him go, Seven. And hewasan executioner. Didn’t you also just say that they’re free? Are younotjust a mortician now?”
“Yes, but…” I lowered my head, shaking it. “Ihavelet him go, Greg.”
He shuffled down from the table and smiled to himself, pacing around the morgue, very Malek-like, and poking around at shit he has no business touching. “Is that why you’re wearing the penny from that boat dock like some lifeline every day? Cause you’ve let him go?”
“Don’t patronize me. And don’t touch that. Anddon’tsit here and try to do what the three of you always do, and imply that I have no idea how to manage my own sex life. It’s actually fucking gross.”
Greg chuckled, closing one of the drawers and tossing his brown hair over his brow to look at me from across the room. I don’t get this look often. And I never feel right under it. “Well one, youdon’tknow how to manage it. But that’s never been something we try to do. And two…this isn’t about your sex life…tell me you don’t fuckin’ love the guy. Go ahead and lie to me like you always lied to Mom about who broke that Greek vase in the foyer.”
