Page 83 of Tourist Trap

I sigh, closing my eyes as I tip my head to the ceiling and try not to snap at him.

"Nice to talk to you too, baby brother. I'm good, Mom's great, how are you?"

"Stop being a dick, Miles."

I roll my eyes at the irony of Paul calling me a dick, much less calling him out for not even bothering with niceties.

"I'm the one being a dick? You just called me up about money,"is what I really want to say, but I don’t.

As annoying as my brother is and as ready as I am for this whole fucking mess to be over with, he still owns a chunk of this house and has the power to completely fuck me over if he really wanted to.

I take in a deep breath and force myself to sound pleasant and brotherly.

When I remember that I was eating out his ex's pussy just a few hours ago, that task becomes shockingly more simple, a rush of calming pleasure washing over me.

"Yes, Paul. I talked to my lawyer. I, unfortunately, don't have your full payout on hand right now. We tried to offer to double the payments for the time being until I either have the full amount or you're paid out in full. My lawyer hadn't heard from yours, so for June we sent the single amount, but I'm happy to wire over more if it's what you want.”

"I fired my lawyer," he says simply.

"What?" I ask, blinking. I suppose that's why Paul's lawyer never got back to us.

"I fired him. Everything's going through me now."

My jaw tightens, knowing that can't be a great sign, overall.

"Why'd you fire him?" I ask, straightening.

"He's too expensive and was taking too long. You said you'll double the payment?"

I close my eyes and fight back the guilt eating at me. This is the most desperate I've ever heard him. Maybe it's just because I'm finally content in my life, but he sounds miserable.

"Paul, are you okay?" I ask, trying to be as gentle as I can.

"I'm fine. Double it?"

"I mean, yeah, we spoke about doubling it, but it would halve how many remaining payments you'd get."

"When can you get the money to me?" he says instantly.

Now my nerves start to rise because even if my brother is an ass, he's still my younger brother. It was instilled in me from the day he was born that keeping Paul safe was my number one job. Sometimes, I wonder if I took that too seriously, especially after Dad died, not letting him learn and grow on his own.

Maybe if Paul had to be more accountable for his mistakes, we wouldn't be in this position.

Or maybe we just would have gotten here quicker.

"Paul, seriously, are you okay?"

"I'm just in a tight spot right now. My record company is fucking with me, and that bitch Claire left, and she was supposed to cover rent, so?—"

"Cover rent?" I ask, fighting the urge to tell him not to talk about Claire like that. In a perfect world, Paul won't find out about my relationship with Claire until after I have the amount to pay him out. It's not that I want her to be some kind of secret, just that I don't need him finding out and throwing a temper tantrum.

"I mean help with rent. Whatever. Shit's expensive out in LA.”

Unease builds in my gut with a healthy dose of familial guilt I always feel regarding my younger brother.

"Look," I say with a sigh. "Why don't you come home? We can?—"

"Fuck off, Miles. Drop the caring brother act; I know it's all bullshit. Just get me the money."

---