Page 10 of Tarnished Hands

Our parents died a few years back, and I didn’t want Tony not to have everything he needed. We were struggling at the time, but we made it work. And, thankfully, my deal with Keir pays extremely well. For the last year, I’ve lived comfortably. I’ve paid off every debt I had, and I’m able to send Tony money every month for books and whatever he needs or wants, and still have some left to spare.

I’m sure it’s what our parents would have done.

They were good parents… to Tony.

I left home at sixteen, when I wanted to drop out of school to pursue a career with cars.

My father told me I was wasting my future and if I intended to do so, there was no place for me under his roof. At the time, I was already working at a car service center, learning everything I could. When I turned eighteen, I enlisted in the army and stayed for a few years before being discharged. By age twenty-five, I had saved up enough money to buy my own shop. And a few years later, they died.

Tony and I are quite a few years apart. However, that doesn’t change how I feel about him. I don’t love many things in this world, but I love my brother. He's practically a kid, and he still leaves his damp towels on the floor. But if anyone laid a finger on him, I’d burn the city down to make them pay. He’s my blood and the reason why I grin and bear birthdays. He’s been through enough, and I need him to know life is worth celebrating even if I don’t always feel that way myself.

We barely look anything alike. I have olive-toned skin, and his is lighter, more like our mother’s. My hair has a slight curl, and his is stick straight. Our eyes are the same, though.

He’s a good kid despite his circumstances. When our parents died in a car accident, Tony was at home alone when the police came knocking and informed him.

After he called crying to give me the news, I stood outside on the sidewalk and let my anger rule over my grief.

I became fucking furious. My knuckles still hurt in the winter from where I punched a brick wall.

He was a teenager.

To have that put on you at that age is a lot to handle. But we got through it together. Made our sibling bond stronger.

Tony is studying to be a doctor. The kid reads medical journals for fun and once corrected our family doctor on a diagnosis. He’s smart. Gifted. Talented. I’m proud of him. Proud to be his brother.

“It’s just another day,” I grumble, pulling the roller doors down.

“It’s not. Now, let’s go out. I flew in for you, and I want to celebrate you.”

“You coming to see me is enough. Let’s eat and then go home.”

“Nope.” Tony shakes his head and follows me to the back to grab my stuff. “You have a shower here. Use it, and let’s go.” He waves to the door where the bathroom is.

“Shouldn’t I get to choose what I want to do since it’s my birthday?” I ask.

“No, you suck at choosing stuff. Now, come on. Oh, I invited your receptionist. She seemed keen on joining us.”

“Let’s not do that again,” I tell him.

“She’s hot, and you’re single. Don’t you want something more?”

“I have something more… my shop,” I remind him. I don’t tell him about all my fucked-up deals. How, sometimes, when I get the cars, I find blood splattered all over the place inside them. Once, I even found a body in the trunk. I knew who I was getting into business with when I shook Keir’s hand, sealing our deal. I even know who I’m fucking. And what they do, who they are, and death doesn’t faze me.

“More than your shop. Don’t you want what Mom and Dad had?”

“No,” I say flatly. I always felt like my mother loved my father more, not that there’s anything wrong with that. Someone always loves the other more, sometimes to the point that the other doesn’t care. It feels more like an obligation to be with each other instead of actually wanting to be together. “I’m happy with how I am right now.”

I head into the bathroom and quickly shower before I change into clean clothes. I find Tony waiting for me at the front, car keys in hand.

“Is there someone else? Or, you know… do you prefer men?” he asks.

I stare at him, dazed, as my brows slowly pull together before answering, “I love women, Tony.”

“Okay, I just wanted to check. Because you know I wouldn’t care. Just wanted to know.”

I let him drive us to the bar, and he glances at me quickly before focusing back on the road.

“Really?” he says, surprised. “Not the receptionist?”

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