Page 55 of The Woodcarver's Model
“Didn’t I warn you about him? Didn’t I tell you what he was like?” Kevin cried.
Mitch stood up and raised his foot. He positioned his boot heel above his brother’s head. Kevin closed his eyes in terror and began to whimper. His body began to shake. His bladder emptied itself. He waited for the final blow…but nothing happened. Kevin opened his eyes and saw Mitch slowly lower his boot to the floor beside Kevin’s head.
Kevin shimmied back out of striking distance, leaving a slug-like trail of urine behind him. He was able to get to his feet. He tried to speak but his fear and anger garbled the thoughts and words.
“Get the fuck out of my house,” Mitch commanded in a frighteningly calm voice. “Pack up your shit and get out and never come back again.”
“But, Mitchy…I’m your brother. You’ve got no one else.”
“I’m better off on my own.”
Ten minutes later Kevin emerged from the guest room with his duffle bag. Kevin felt the truth of the situation set in. He had always needed Mitch more than Mitch had needed him.
“Please…”
Mitch said nothing.
Kevin walked to the front door as a man walked to the noose.
“You want to know why I did that to you?”
Mitch just stared, his eyes lifeless.
Kevin turned and with one final attack. “You had everything back then, and what did I have? Nothing!” he spit out. “You’re gonna find out fast that sometimes you gotta sell whatever you got if you’re gonna survive out there. And for me, Mitchy, that was you.”
Kevin left the house, slamming the door behind him.
Chapter Eighteen
It was the day after Rob met with Estelle, and his face still stung from her slaps to his face, but sometimes that was just what a guy needed. Not that Rob was into that sort of thing. Pain wasn’t for enjoyment, but it was an inducement to deal with an issue—when a person’s tooth throbs, they go and see a dentist, when their ankle screams in pain, they stop moving until they can extract their foot from the crevice, when their chest hurts, they get to the hospital before the heart attack kills them. Estelle’s slaps had told him to stop feeling sorry for himself and act. If Mitch meant something to him, which he did, then Rob had to figure out how to undo the damage and get him back.
When it came to solving problems, Rob was methodical. Step one—identify the problem he faced. Step two—identify his assets. Step three—identify which assets would best be suited to fighting the problem.
The problem at hand—prove to Mitch that he wasn’t a murderer and that he wasn’t a willing participant in the pending destruction of his home and life.
His assets—good looks, intelligence, good friends and a persuasive writing skill that had garnered him a strong social media following. The first might work if he were dealing with a shallow, self-centred man. The last three, however…he had an idea of where to begin.
He readjusted his schedule for the next few weeks and called Karen.
“Hey. It’s me.”
“Well, you sound chipper. Can I assume that you had a fun time with Geoffrey?”
“Who’s Geoffrey?” he asked.
“The guy you hooked up with last night? God—you guys are useless. When you take someone back to your place, you’ve at least gotta get their name, if not name and number. What if something went missing and you’d had to call the cops?”
Rob thought for a moment. “How did you know he came back to my place?”
“Well, first off, he’s a Greek god.”
“Last night you called him Thor. Thor was a Norse god,” Rob corrected.
“Norse, Greek, what’s the difference? He was as hot as they come. Secondly, I haven’t heard you this perky in ages.”
“I am not perky. Perky is for puppies and cheerleaders.”
“Oh, you’re perky all right. And thirdly,” she continued, “I bumped into Reggie, the bouncer at the Nail, and he told me you two left together, which means you either went back to his place, a small studio on Isabella Street which he shares with his sister, lucky bitch, or yours. And if I were the one trying to impress a Norse god, your place wins hands down. And before you ask, Reggie told me where Geoffrey lived. Did you cook him up a nice breakfast? A boy like that needs plenty of protein.”
