Invictus, page 12
I look down at the string of beads dangling from my hand before I wrap them around my fist and punch him as hard as I can in his throat.
“Absolve me, Father,” I repeat again in a low, even tone.
His hands are at his throat now and he’s gasping for breath, but in his pain and desperate attempt to breathe, he shakes his head again.
I hit him again in his throat, and again, and again, until he finally stops moving and his body goes limp. I heard his neck snap as he took his last breath and I shudder at the memory that’s trying to flood me.
“Just like Singapore.”
The impression of the rosary beads he clutched to his breast like some kind of holy shield makes me smile. I slide them into my pocket and fumble for another cigarette, lighting it and revealing the blood on my fist.
“Well fuck. I hope that didn’t hurt too much,” I say to his lifeless body with a short laugh. I tilt my head and look at him for just a moment longer before I push the candle onto his sanctimonious robes and walk out of the confessional.
The church won’t go up in flames, but by the time they find him, there won’t be any evidence left as to how he really died. It’ll just look like an accident, and for now I can breathe easy just a little longer knowing that someone has finally heard my confession.
Nothing hurts me more than to talk to Robbie the way I did in the car, but he has to learn to be without me. He can’t rely on me for the rest of his life to get him out of trouble. Or the rest of my life, anyway.
He’ll come home like he always does, so I’m not worried about him leaving, I just worry that he left in the wrong frame of mind and that will lead to problems like it always has in the past.
Robbie is such an intricate person to deal with that I know he won’t make it on his own, but I have to try. I have to make him understand that big brother won’t be around forever and if I die before him, he has to be able to function. Live in his own home, be able to go out in public without making a fucking nuisance of himself, and live as normal a life as someone like him possibly can.
A deep sigh escapes me as the headache from earlier returns as I unlock my home with Atasha following close behind. It would be so easy right now to end all of the things that are in the way of me and my brother. The secret behind the door, the girl who follows me so blindly after a night of blood—my own fucking life, but all of those things are the coward’s way out and I don’t want to set that example for him. He’s too keen to follow anything I show him like it’s the Gospel truth.
When we reach the living room, Atasha excuses herself to go “wash up” and I sit down in my chair across from Robbie’s couch. Where could my brother have possibly gone? What trouble is he getting himself into and in what way am I going to have to help him this time?
I could leave—disappear like a thief in the night without any of the three and start over somewhere else. Live what life I have left in peace and quiet, but the Scarecrows will always haunt me and I’ll come back to finish Magda. Even I don’t know how to run away from my problems and I’m wondering if I should start looking at Robbie as the teacher rather than the student.
If only all problems could be solved by running away, I think with a chuckle. Removing my glasses and placing them on the arm of the chair, I reach down and pull the little lever so that it reclines slightly. I’ll wait for Robbie right here and when he returns he’ll know that I never had any intention of prioritizing my little game with him on the bottom rung.
Granted, I don’t expected him to return so soon—or ever again—but he’s always been my first priority since we were children due to his fragile mental state.
I close my eyes and sigh again. I wonder if he would have gotten the help he needed had I turned him in to my parents when he attacked Ms. Hagerman, but I know that I would have lost him then and I cannot imagine a life without Robbie. Regardless if he’s a constant presence or not, he’s still my baby brother.
I wonder though, who will help me when the sands have finally shifted into my end of the proverbial hourglass and I’m left a blubbering mess with no way to take care of myself. Robbie? Atasha? Certainly not Magda with the way I’ve been experimenting on her, and yet I realize in this moment that I don’t particularly care.
No. There are much more important and meaningful things to worry about and my headaches and the life I know is yet to come.
Robbie will be home soon and when he gets here I’ll make the time to find out what it is that’s been bothering him, what exactly happened in Singapore, and I’ll find a way to fix it.
It’s the way it’s always been.
Though the shower raining down on me is scalding, my teeth chatter like I’m chilled. I can’t seem to stop shaking. Something’s wrong with August…something far beyond my partner in crime’s talent for violence.
He’s got a serious screw loose, and as much as I enjoy our rambunctious sex and his cerebral conversation, I’m planning my exit strategy now, before this bullshit gets any more twisted.
When August caught up to me earlier, I’d sought sanctuary from the rainstorm in a 50s-style diner just a block from where I’d abandoned the Grant brothers in the liquor store parking lot. I’d already ordered lunch when I saw him dash past me through the plate glass windows. Moments later, he took the seat across from me, his face an unreadable mask as he dripped second-hand raindrops all over the red Formica tabletop.
“Coffee?” the perky blonde waitress asked, wiping the table dry before depositing a menu before him and flipping her towel over her shoulder.
“Please,” he responded, his glacial eyes never leaving mine. I’d sipped from my own cup, using napkins to wipe away my running mascara. As the waitress made haste to comply, August inhaled, reaching for my hand. “I owe you an explanation, but this isn’t the best place for it.”
“I’m not going back to your place without an explanation, so you may as well start talking. Or should we wait for Robbie? Are we allowed to do anything without his blessing?”
He didn’t flinch at my acerbic delivery. “He’s unstable.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
He didn’t miss a beat. “He’s violent.”
I cocked a sardonic brow. “And?”
“Not like us.” He sighed. “He’s the kind of kamikaze violent that will go on a spree for no other reason than that the grocery store is out of his favorite brand of soap.”
“So why is he walking the streets?” I snapped. The rest went unsaid. Take him out.
He didn’t seem surprised, just pinched his brow as if he felt a headache coming on. “He’s my flesh and blood.”
“Surely your mother could have paid for an institution in the countryside. She’s obviously not hurting for money and it’s clear she knows he’s unhinged.”
“How would you know a thing like that?” His head tilt meant trouble, but I was almost looking forward to a fight.
“She stopped by this morning to make me feel like shit about myself. And to drop of an invitation to some black-tie affair for your father. She was worried I was living with you. I told her we got hitched in Vegas and were having twins.”
“You’re joking,” he said in that robotic way he has.
“Yep. But not about the party. She told me to tell you it would mean a lot to your dad.”
The dark look that flashed across his features wiped the smile from my face. Luckily, Ponytail was back with my double cheeseburger and fries. When she sat the chocolate shake in front of me, August sighed.
“You need to take better care of yourself.”
“Live fast, die hard, leave a pretty corpse,” I replied, taking a gluttonous bite from the burger. When I looked up at him, he seemed to be staring through me without seeing me. I waited for him to say something, to tell me something about his childhood maybe, judging from the thousand-mile stare. When he didn’t blink, didn’t speak, didn’t seem to breathe for a full minute, I dropped my burger and reached out to touch the hand I’d shunned minutes before.
“August?”
Nothing. Not a flinch, not a blink. A little drool tickled out of the side of his mouth and ice trailed down my spine to my toes.
“August,” I barked, snapping my fingers in front of his face. He inhaled and his eyes focused on me as if he’d just woken from a long nap.
“Hmmm?” he asked, blinking several times and picking up a napkin to wipe his mouth.
“Are you alright?’
“What do you mean?” he sounded sleepy, and I waved the waitress over.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“My head hurts,” he said and seemed surprised at his own honesty. The waitress appeared with a beauty-queen smile plastered across her girl-next-door face.
“I’m gonna need a box and the check.” My face must have expressed my emotional state, because she scurried away like her ass was on fire. “Let’s get home so you can give me that explanation.”
August didn’t argue, and he willingly abandoned his untouched coffee when I was ready to leave. Upon exiting the café, Sandeep was out front waiting for us as if nothing unusual was happening. Who knows, maybe all wealthy car service customers are just as mercurial. August said virtually nothing on the way back, just rested his head on my shoulder.
When we arrived back at his place, he climbed out of the car and wandered in the direction of the front door. I trailed behind him through the door he left standing open. His aimless shuffle was so unlike his usual, confident stride that I wanted to turn and run…to beg Sandeep to drive me straight to the airport, or the bus station. Something stopped me. Obligation and a bizarre sense of loyalty kept me planted right behind him like a second at a hopeless duel.
I’ve been reflecting so long on my own actions and August’s bizarre behavior that my water runs cold. Hurrying to rinse out the conditioner, I step out onto the bathroom rug. I dry off my face and when I pull the towel away, August is leaning against the bathroom door, watching me. I startle.
“I chose you for a reason, Atasha. You’re strong. And clever.”
I roll my eyes and open my mouth to make a smartass remark, and he puts a finger over my lips to silence me.
“You’re also incredibly adaptable and morally flexible. I need these things, Tash. I need you to need to be me.” His eyes are wild with emotion, like a man possessed. I’ve never seen him like this, except maybe in bed by the light of the moon. I search for something to say to his confession, and realize I need a hell of a lot more information, since he’s raised more questions than answers.
“Explain,” I exhale, wrapping my towel around me. He takes my hand and kisses it, leading me out into the bedroom where we sit on the bed together.
“I want you to take my place when I’m gone.”
“Are you moving?”
He snorts. “No.”
I scan his face suspiciously. “Is this a suicide note?”
“No.” His lip curls, and he looks genuinely amused. He trails a finger along my collarbone, but none of this comforts me at all. “Someone will need to take care of things when I can’t any longer.”
“August. I can barely take care of myself. I don’t know how to be anyone else. Especially not you. What’s this all about?”
“Robbie will need someone.”
“Robbie hates me.” I leave it unsaid that I’m not particularly fond of him either.
August kisses me then, hard…almost desperate. He lowers me back on the bed, parting my towel and exposing my skin. He traces my nipple thoughtfully, and involuntarily, I close my eyes. “You have the tools to do this and I’ll make sure you have the resources. I need to prepare you for the responsibility. I can convince him it needs to be done.”
I look up into his face. He’s more of a mystery with every passing moment. “I don’t understand.”
“You will.” He slides off the bed and between my legs, surveying me like I’m dessert. “You will.”
I’m not exactly expecting Auggie to welcome me with open arms once I tell him what I’ve done, but he’s the only person who understands. He’s the only one who sees me, inside and out, and still loves me. He’s never wanted to send me away and the years we spent apart I’m sure were just as hard for him as they were for me. All I ever wanted was for someone to get me and the only other soul in the world who ever has is my brother.
I take a drag of my cigarette, exhaling the smoke in a rush as I continue down the street back to his place. Granted, he’s probably going to tell me to fucking disappear once I spill all of the shit that’s been eating me inside, but he can’t make me go.
No one can.
I clear my throat as I let the cigarette dangle from my lips again. I wonder if I can sneak into the bathroom and wash the blood off my hands before I have to start my tale of woe with why I’ve got some scratches and bruising on them.
Whatever.
It’s not like Auggie has time for me anyway these days. I could walk into his place soaked in blood and he wouldn’t even bat a fucking eyelash because of that gash he has hanging around him.
She has to go.
But how?
How do I get rid of the bitch in a way that doesn’t hurt my brother? Tick, tock, Atasha—your time’s running out.
I can feel myself becoming giddy with excitement. I thought the high of taking down Father Gregory would calm me for a while, but it seems to only have sparked that fire inside of me again.
I need to hurt someone to feel better and it sure as fuck isn’t going to be the only person who gives a shit about me. Of course, that only leaves the bitch who keeps wedging herself in between us. The goddamn whore who’s been taking all of my brother’s time away from me when he should be helping me figure out how to make the pain stop.
It’s not physical pain—I don’t even know if I can feel that anymore, though I’m good at faking it. It’s more of the emotional trauma of being trapped in my mind with no way out and I need him to help me.
“Auggie loves me and he’ll know how to set this right again,” I mumble to no one in particular as I find myself on the corner of his street. “And he’ll fix this because that’s what he does.”
I cut my eyes up and down the sidewalk before I turn onto his street, then flick my cigarette against the building wall on the way down the alley. A laugh escapes me as I think of the look that will surely cross his face when I tell him about what I’ve just done. He’ll be angry, upset, disappointed, but then we’ll both sit down and talk about it.
He’s much better than any fucking doctor that my parents tried to force on me because Auggie genuinely cares.
“Okay, here goes nothing.”
I run a hand back through my hair as I pull myself up onto the landing, then push the front door open. I take the steps two at a time and decide that there’s no reason in washing the blood from my hands because it’s not like it will shock him to see me like this.
I put my hand on the doorknob, turn it to the right, and walk into his place, a smile plastered across my face. If he sees me in somewhat better spirits than when I left him, maybe it’ll give me an edge during our conversation.
“Hey Aug? I’m back!” I call out as I pull my jacket off and toss it onto the couch. I lie down on top of it, cross my legs at the ankles, and drape an arm over my forehead.
I can hear some shuffling in his bedroom before the door creaks open and he comes out to greet me.
“Can this wait, Robbie? I’ve had a splitting headache all day,” he says softly. I arch my back and look at him. Upside down he’s still as good looking as he is right side up and it makes me laugh.
“You’re such a handsome fuck. Anyone ever tell you that before?” I ask him, grinning.
August offers me a small smile as he rubs his temples slightly. He lets out a soft sigh as he opens his eyes again, coming over and sitting down on the floor next to me. I flatten myself on the couch again and turn on my side to look at my brother.
“What’s the matter, Aug?” I ask him curiously.
This isn’t like him. Yes, he’s quiet and reserved for the most part, but he seems to be in constant pain lately and I don’t like it.
“Mom came by and dropped off an invitation for the both of us,” he explains quietly.
“Liar,” I reply with a hollow smile. “She doesn’t even know I’m here.”
“She will when you go with me. I’m not attending without you,” he replies, shaking his head slowly. “Fuck.”
He puts his face in one of his hands and grunts, but just as quickly dismisses whatever the fuck is plaguing him.
“Seriously, August; what’s going on with you?” I ask him again.
“Nothing,” he says, looking up at me with a smile. “It’ll pass. It always does.”
“Want me to go back out and get you some aspirin or something?” I ask.
“No. I would, however, like to know how that happened,” he says, nodding at the hand I’ve laid on his forearm.
“Huh?”
“The blood, Robbie. Where did it come from?”
“Oh!” I say with a laugh. I had forgotten about it already because of wondering what it is that he’s hiding from me. In his head, behind that door, and more than likely in his bedroom. “I hit a priest.”
“Jesus Christ,” he replies, leaning his head back and letting out a loud sigh.
“Amen.”
“That’s not funny,” he barks at me. The smile leaves my face and I turn onto my back again, my eyes lingering on the ceiling of the living room and I sigh.
“Sorry.”
“Is he okay?” he asks in a softer tone.
“All dogs go to Heaven, right?” I reply thoughtfully.
“What?”
“Well, dogs. When they die. They go to Heaven, don’t they? At least that’s what the movie said,” I explain, rubbing my nose irritably. I hate when he plays stupid and makes me say exactly what I’ve done when my little riddles can tell him more than I ever want to.
“Did you…did you kill the priest, Robbie?” he asks me curiously.
“Yeah, but he had it coming,” I reply with a shrug.
“Absolve me, Father,” I repeat again in a low, even tone.
His hands are at his throat now and he’s gasping for breath, but in his pain and desperate attempt to breathe, he shakes his head again.
I hit him again in his throat, and again, and again, until he finally stops moving and his body goes limp. I heard his neck snap as he took his last breath and I shudder at the memory that’s trying to flood me.
“Just like Singapore.”
The impression of the rosary beads he clutched to his breast like some kind of holy shield makes me smile. I slide them into my pocket and fumble for another cigarette, lighting it and revealing the blood on my fist.
“Well fuck. I hope that didn’t hurt too much,” I say to his lifeless body with a short laugh. I tilt my head and look at him for just a moment longer before I push the candle onto his sanctimonious robes and walk out of the confessional.
The church won’t go up in flames, but by the time they find him, there won’t be any evidence left as to how he really died. It’ll just look like an accident, and for now I can breathe easy just a little longer knowing that someone has finally heard my confession.
Nothing hurts me more than to talk to Robbie the way I did in the car, but he has to learn to be without me. He can’t rely on me for the rest of his life to get him out of trouble. Or the rest of my life, anyway.
He’ll come home like he always does, so I’m not worried about him leaving, I just worry that he left in the wrong frame of mind and that will lead to problems like it always has in the past.
Robbie is such an intricate person to deal with that I know he won’t make it on his own, but I have to try. I have to make him understand that big brother won’t be around forever and if I die before him, he has to be able to function. Live in his own home, be able to go out in public without making a fucking nuisance of himself, and live as normal a life as someone like him possibly can.
A deep sigh escapes me as the headache from earlier returns as I unlock my home with Atasha following close behind. It would be so easy right now to end all of the things that are in the way of me and my brother. The secret behind the door, the girl who follows me so blindly after a night of blood—my own fucking life, but all of those things are the coward’s way out and I don’t want to set that example for him. He’s too keen to follow anything I show him like it’s the Gospel truth.
When we reach the living room, Atasha excuses herself to go “wash up” and I sit down in my chair across from Robbie’s couch. Where could my brother have possibly gone? What trouble is he getting himself into and in what way am I going to have to help him this time?
I could leave—disappear like a thief in the night without any of the three and start over somewhere else. Live what life I have left in peace and quiet, but the Scarecrows will always haunt me and I’ll come back to finish Magda. Even I don’t know how to run away from my problems and I’m wondering if I should start looking at Robbie as the teacher rather than the student.
If only all problems could be solved by running away, I think with a chuckle. Removing my glasses and placing them on the arm of the chair, I reach down and pull the little lever so that it reclines slightly. I’ll wait for Robbie right here and when he returns he’ll know that I never had any intention of prioritizing my little game with him on the bottom rung.
Granted, I don’t expected him to return so soon—or ever again—but he’s always been my first priority since we were children due to his fragile mental state.
I close my eyes and sigh again. I wonder if he would have gotten the help he needed had I turned him in to my parents when he attacked Ms. Hagerman, but I know that I would have lost him then and I cannot imagine a life without Robbie. Regardless if he’s a constant presence or not, he’s still my baby brother.
I wonder though, who will help me when the sands have finally shifted into my end of the proverbial hourglass and I’m left a blubbering mess with no way to take care of myself. Robbie? Atasha? Certainly not Magda with the way I’ve been experimenting on her, and yet I realize in this moment that I don’t particularly care.
No. There are much more important and meaningful things to worry about and my headaches and the life I know is yet to come.
Robbie will be home soon and when he gets here I’ll make the time to find out what it is that’s been bothering him, what exactly happened in Singapore, and I’ll find a way to fix it.
It’s the way it’s always been.
Though the shower raining down on me is scalding, my teeth chatter like I’m chilled. I can’t seem to stop shaking. Something’s wrong with August…something far beyond my partner in crime’s talent for violence.
He’s got a serious screw loose, and as much as I enjoy our rambunctious sex and his cerebral conversation, I’m planning my exit strategy now, before this bullshit gets any more twisted.
When August caught up to me earlier, I’d sought sanctuary from the rainstorm in a 50s-style diner just a block from where I’d abandoned the Grant brothers in the liquor store parking lot. I’d already ordered lunch when I saw him dash past me through the plate glass windows. Moments later, he took the seat across from me, his face an unreadable mask as he dripped second-hand raindrops all over the red Formica tabletop.
“Coffee?” the perky blonde waitress asked, wiping the table dry before depositing a menu before him and flipping her towel over her shoulder.
“Please,” he responded, his glacial eyes never leaving mine. I’d sipped from my own cup, using napkins to wipe away my running mascara. As the waitress made haste to comply, August inhaled, reaching for my hand. “I owe you an explanation, but this isn’t the best place for it.”
“I’m not going back to your place without an explanation, so you may as well start talking. Or should we wait for Robbie? Are we allowed to do anything without his blessing?”
He didn’t flinch at my acerbic delivery. “He’s unstable.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
He didn’t miss a beat. “He’s violent.”
I cocked a sardonic brow. “And?”
“Not like us.” He sighed. “He’s the kind of kamikaze violent that will go on a spree for no other reason than that the grocery store is out of his favorite brand of soap.”
“So why is he walking the streets?” I snapped. The rest went unsaid. Take him out.
He didn’t seem surprised, just pinched his brow as if he felt a headache coming on. “He’s my flesh and blood.”
“Surely your mother could have paid for an institution in the countryside. She’s obviously not hurting for money and it’s clear she knows he’s unhinged.”
“How would you know a thing like that?” His head tilt meant trouble, but I was almost looking forward to a fight.
“She stopped by this morning to make me feel like shit about myself. And to drop of an invitation to some black-tie affair for your father. She was worried I was living with you. I told her we got hitched in Vegas and were having twins.”
“You’re joking,” he said in that robotic way he has.
“Yep. But not about the party. She told me to tell you it would mean a lot to your dad.”
The dark look that flashed across his features wiped the smile from my face. Luckily, Ponytail was back with my double cheeseburger and fries. When she sat the chocolate shake in front of me, August sighed.
“You need to take better care of yourself.”
“Live fast, die hard, leave a pretty corpse,” I replied, taking a gluttonous bite from the burger. When I looked up at him, he seemed to be staring through me without seeing me. I waited for him to say something, to tell me something about his childhood maybe, judging from the thousand-mile stare. When he didn’t blink, didn’t speak, didn’t seem to breathe for a full minute, I dropped my burger and reached out to touch the hand I’d shunned minutes before.
“August?”
Nothing. Not a flinch, not a blink. A little drool tickled out of the side of his mouth and ice trailed down my spine to my toes.
“August,” I barked, snapping my fingers in front of his face. He inhaled and his eyes focused on me as if he’d just woken from a long nap.
“Hmmm?” he asked, blinking several times and picking up a napkin to wipe his mouth.
“Are you alright?’
“What do you mean?” he sounded sleepy, and I waved the waitress over.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“My head hurts,” he said and seemed surprised at his own honesty. The waitress appeared with a beauty-queen smile plastered across her girl-next-door face.
“I’m gonna need a box and the check.” My face must have expressed my emotional state, because she scurried away like her ass was on fire. “Let’s get home so you can give me that explanation.”
August didn’t argue, and he willingly abandoned his untouched coffee when I was ready to leave. Upon exiting the café, Sandeep was out front waiting for us as if nothing unusual was happening. Who knows, maybe all wealthy car service customers are just as mercurial. August said virtually nothing on the way back, just rested his head on my shoulder.
When we arrived back at his place, he climbed out of the car and wandered in the direction of the front door. I trailed behind him through the door he left standing open. His aimless shuffle was so unlike his usual, confident stride that I wanted to turn and run…to beg Sandeep to drive me straight to the airport, or the bus station. Something stopped me. Obligation and a bizarre sense of loyalty kept me planted right behind him like a second at a hopeless duel.
I’ve been reflecting so long on my own actions and August’s bizarre behavior that my water runs cold. Hurrying to rinse out the conditioner, I step out onto the bathroom rug. I dry off my face and when I pull the towel away, August is leaning against the bathroom door, watching me. I startle.
“I chose you for a reason, Atasha. You’re strong. And clever.”
I roll my eyes and open my mouth to make a smartass remark, and he puts a finger over my lips to silence me.
“You’re also incredibly adaptable and morally flexible. I need these things, Tash. I need you to need to be me.” His eyes are wild with emotion, like a man possessed. I’ve never seen him like this, except maybe in bed by the light of the moon. I search for something to say to his confession, and realize I need a hell of a lot more information, since he’s raised more questions than answers.
“Explain,” I exhale, wrapping my towel around me. He takes my hand and kisses it, leading me out into the bedroom where we sit on the bed together.
“I want you to take my place when I’m gone.”
“Are you moving?”
He snorts. “No.”
I scan his face suspiciously. “Is this a suicide note?”
“No.” His lip curls, and he looks genuinely amused. He trails a finger along my collarbone, but none of this comforts me at all. “Someone will need to take care of things when I can’t any longer.”
“August. I can barely take care of myself. I don’t know how to be anyone else. Especially not you. What’s this all about?”
“Robbie will need someone.”
“Robbie hates me.” I leave it unsaid that I’m not particularly fond of him either.
August kisses me then, hard…almost desperate. He lowers me back on the bed, parting my towel and exposing my skin. He traces my nipple thoughtfully, and involuntarily, I close my eyes. “You have the tools to do this and I’ll make sure you have the resources. I need to prepare you for the responsibility. I can convince him it needs to be done.”
I look up into his face. He’s more of a mystery with every passing moment. “I don’t understand.”
“You will.” He slides off the bed and between my legs, surveying me like I’m dessert. “You will.”
I’m not exactly expecting Auggie to welcome me with open arms once I tell him what I’ve done, but he’s the only person who understands. He’s the only one who sees me, inside and out, and still loves me. He’s never wanted to send me away and the years we spent apart I’m sure were just as hard for him as they were for me. All I ever wanted was for someone to get me and the only other soul in the world who ever has is my brother.
I take a drag of my cigarette, exhaling the smoke in a rush as I continue down the street back to his place. Granted, he’s probably going to tell me to fucking disappear once I spill all of the shit that’s been eating me inside, but he can’t make me go.
No one can.
I clear my throat as I let the cigarette dangle from my lips again. I wonder if I can sneak into the bathroom and wash the blood off my hands before I have to start my tale of woe with why I’ve got some scratches and bruising on them.
Whatever.
It’s not like Auggie has time for me anyway these days. I could walk into his place soaked in blood and he wouldn’t even bat a fucking eyelash because of that gash he has hanging around him.
She has to go.
But how?
How do I get rid of the bitch in a way that doesn’t hurt my brother? Tick, tock, Atasha—your time’s running out.
I can feel myself becoming giddy with excitement. I thought the high of taking down Father Gregory would calm me for a while, but it seems to only have sparked that fire inside of me again.
I need to hurt someone to feel better and it sure as fuck isn’t going to be the only person who gives a shit about me. Of course, that only leaves the bitch who keeps wedging herself in between us. The goddamn whore who’s been taking all of my brother’s time away from me when he should be helping me figure out how to make the pain stop.
It’s not physical pain—I don’t even know if I can feel that anymore, though I’m good at faking it. It’s more of the emotional trauma of being trapped in my mind with no way out and I need him to help me.
“Auggie loves me and he’ll know how to set this right again,” I mumble to no one in particular as I find myself on the corner of his street. “And he’ll fix this because that’s what he does.”
I cut my eyes up and down the sidewalk before I turn onto his street, then flick my cigarette against the building wall on the way down the alley. A laugh escapes me as I think of the look that will surely cross his face when I tell him about what I’ve just done. He’ll be angry, upset, disappointed, but then we’ll both sit down and talk about it.
He’s much better than any fucking doctor that my parents tried to force on me because Auggie genuinely cares.
“Okay, here goes nothing.”
I run a hand back through my hair as I pull myself up onto the landing, then push the front door open. I take the steps two at a time and decide that there’s no reason in washing the blood from my hands because it’s not like it will shock him to see me like this.
I put my hand on the doorknob, turn it to the right, and walk into his place, a smile plastered across my face. If he sees me in somewhat better spirits than when I left him, maybe it’ll give me an edge during our conversation.
“Hey Aug? I’m back!” I call out as I pull my jacket off and toss it onto the couch. I lie down on top of it, cross my legs at the ankles, and drape an arm over my forehead.
I can hear some shuffling in his bedroom before the door creaks open and he comes out to greet me.
“Can this wait, Robbie? I’ve had a splitting headache all day,” he says softly. I arch my back and look at him. Upside down he’s still as good looking as he is right side up and it makes me laugh.
“You’re such a handsome fuck. Anyone ever tell you that before?” I ask him, grinning.
August offers me a small smile as he rubs his temples slightly. He lets out a soft sigh as he opens his eyes again, coming over and sitting down on the floor next to me. I flatten myself on the couch again and turn on my side to look at my brother.
“What’s the matter, Aug?” I ask him curiously.
This isn’t like him. Yes, he’s quiet and reserved for the most part, but he seems to be in constant pain lately and I don’t like it.
“Mom came by and dropped off an invitation for the both of us,” he explains quietly.
“Liar,” I reply with a hollow smile. “She doesn’t even know I’m here.”
“She will when you go with me. I’m not attending without you,” he replies, shaking his head slowly. “Fuck.”
He puts his face in one of his hands and grunts, but just as quickly dismisses whatever the fuck is plaguing him.
“Seriously, August; what’s going on with you?” I ask him again.
“Nothing,” he says, looking up at me with a smile. “It’ll pass. It always does.”
“Want me to go back out and get you some aspirin or something?” I ask.
“No. I would, however, like to know how that happened,” he says, nodding at the hand I’ve laid on his forearm.
“Huh?”
“The blood, Robbie. Where did it come from?”
“Oh!” I say with a laugh. I had forgotten about it already because of wondering what it is that he’s hiding from me. In his head, behind that door, and more than likely in his bedroom. “I hit a priest.”
“Jesus Christ,” he replies, leaning his head back and letting out a loud sigh.
“Amen.”
“That’s not funny,” he barks at me. The smile leaves my face and I turn onto my back again, my eyes lingering on the ceiling of the living room and I sigh.
“Sorry.”
“Is he okay?” he asks in a softer tone.
“All dogs go to Heaven, right?” I reply thoughtfully.
“What?”
“Well, dogs. When they die. They go to Heaven, don’t they? At least that’s what the movie said,” I explain, rubbing my nose irritably. I hate when he plays stupid and makes me say exactly what I’ve done when my little riddles can tell him more than I ever want to.
“Did you…did you kill the priest, Robbie?” he asks me curiously.
“Yeah, but he had it coming,” I reply with a shrug.
