“I know… crazy obsessed with you,” he jests, as he twiddles his thumbs on my breastbone, outlining the expanse of my chest hairs. “So, do you think it’d be a bad idea to invite Charlie to my dad’s and Jackson’s wedding?”
“Uh yes… that would be insane.” I mutter. “Charlie wouldn’t be able to handle seeing you and me there together… holding hands.”
Austin’s smile fades, eyes darting across the room. “I know. I just feel bad for him. He’s going through a lot right now.”
I stare at him for a long second, torn between the urge to smother his face in my chest and the pang of irritation knotting itself in my gut. He shouldn’t care about Charlie. He didn’t save him for the wolves. But that’s the problem with falling in love. You have to care about other people's feelings.
Or at least act like you do.
Fuck. Lord have mercy on me right now, but I can’t fake this bullshit. “Let him go through it. He’s made his bed. My brother isn’t our problem.”
Austin jerks back like I’ve slapped him on his face. “Drew, how can you say that! He’s your only brother.”
“Yeah, but doesn’t mean I’m going to love and care for him all of a sudden now that he’s a little depressed. He's not some lost puppy that we need to rescue.”
His chestnut irises stare sharply into mine. “But what if—”
“What if nothing. Don’t start with the what-if’s. Charlie chose to skip along on the golden road, while I was choking in the dark. He left me to rot. And now I’m supposed to cradle him like a newborn? Absolutely not. He can piss off back to Manchester if he needs a holiday from real life.”
His mouth gapes open, as if he’s offended by the truth, pulling away from my reach like I’ve burned his skin.
“Austin—” I start, reaching my forearm out to him.
“No, don’t say anything else. I’m going to sleep in a different room tonight.” He throws on an outfit of sweats, hustling out the door, before slamming it to my face.
Fuuuuck.
I comb my fingers through my hair. I should’ve faked it. Acted like I cared about my baby brother. But those words slipped from my lips like venom oozing from a viper’s fangs.
When did Charlie ever care about me? Where was his brotherly love when I needed it the most? He was silent and complicit whileour father did the unspeakable. He never lifted a finger from his room, just hid beneath his sheets while I was left to bleed in mine.
Sure it might have been ages ago, but I’ll never forget his selfishness. Some scars don’t ever fade. Moments that won’t ever leave my memory—gnawed them so deep in my psyche that they’ve become a part of my personality. An instrumental part of who Drew Evans is.
Austin is wasting his time, caring about a spineless bastard like him. He only cares about the skin on his own back. He can portray himself as a hero, but I know he’s playing the part. Trying to win back Austin with his poor boy façade.
That’s what curdles my stomach acid the most. He’s not sorry for anything. He’s scheming, playing the victim for trauma that he's never endured, fishing for sympathy with his fake tears. Austin doesn’t see it, too blinded by his compassion for other people.
I stare at the spinning ceiling fan, constantly turning in aimless circles. Picturing what it would be like to be one of those mahogany blades. To not have feelings or a toss in the world for another object. You just spin and spin in the same three hundred sixty degrees until that becomes your blueprint. Around and around the merry-go-round.
How cathartic that would be. To be without a pulse. To have a singular purpose. To not have a bloody twin that is absolutely infuriating.
Is it still too late to murder him?
Chapter 22
Austin
Thescreechofseagullsfrom Lake Minnetonka in tandem with the late September sunrise peeking through my window shatter my personal goal of sleeping in until noon. Fricking figures with my luck of late. At least we’ve got a break day after snatching that win in Kansas City. I’ve retreated to my dad’s place—my so-called refuge. A hideout where I can get some rest without Charlie or Drew whiffing up my ass.
And God, do I need it. The Evans brothers are tearing me further apart every day. One wants to drag me to hell with him and the other wants to suck me in with guilt. I’m stuck in the center, just praying they won’t snap me at the waist.
But it wouldn’t surprise me if they did. They are both insufferable at compromise. They won’t even consider having an actual conversation with one another without it ending inpiss offorfuck you, you wanker.
Yeah I know, it’s awful what happened to them when they were young, but that wasdecadesago for Christ’s sakes. You’d think they would get over it sometime over the course of twenty plus years. They are too dead set on sparring with words, using me as their fricking Switzerland.
If only I’d never crossed paths with Drew. If only I hadn’t let his eyes pin me down that night at the gala, like I was another prize for his book of conquests. I should’ve blocked his number the moment he snatched my phone from my grasp.
“Austin! Breakfast is ready,” my father shouts from downstairs.
