Page 102 of Worse Than Wicked
We stare at each other, and he eases the matches from my fingers and pulls them away. Gently, he pulls my glasses off. He sits there, cleaning them on the edge of his shirt, and then slides them back onto my face. They’re slightly blurred, but I can see.
“Where is she?” I ask.
“I told her to wait outside. It’s not safe in here. Can you stand?”
“She wants me to kill you,” I say. “I can’t do it, Baron. I’m not a killer. I couldn’t live with myself. But you could. You’re a killer. You do it.”
“Not if we were the last two people on earth and I had to do it to survive.” He stares at me, and his eyes are blazing like I’ve already struck the match. “I would sooner kill myself. I love you, Duke. You are my brother. I would never hurt you.”
“Then why did you?” I ask, my throat thick suddenly, aching. I’m a kid again, and I just want to be the Robin to his Batman, and he’s saying no. Robin is lame. And I know that means I’m lame, even if I can’t articulate it.
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I know I didn’t make you feel important. I don’t understand feelings, so I don’t know how to make you feel the way I want you to feel. I failed, Duke. But I want you to know. Whatever you need, I’ll do it. Anything you want, it’s yours. Anything. If you want space from me, or medication, or therapy… It doesn’t matter what I believe in. It only matters that we find what helps you. Just tell me, so I can give it to you. You have to help me too, Duke.”
“Are you crying?”
He touches his face, then stares at his fingers like he’s never seen them before. “I guess I am.” He raises his gaze to mine. His eyes are red, wet. Or maybe that’s what I want to see, proof that I matter more than her. More than anyone. That must be why my own eyes sting. I can’t remember where I end and he begins anymore.
“I didn’t know you could cry.”
“I didn’t either.”
My eyes are burning too, as if I can feel his pain, the depth of it mirrored in our twin hearts.
“I was so focused on setting up the life we planned, getting it all right, at all cost,” he says, shaking his head. “I never would have done it if I’d known the cost was you.”
“Baron,” I say, gripping his fingers. “It’s too late. I’m always too late. I don’t see it until it’s over. But this time I do. This time, I’m looking ahead. I see what’s coming. You don’t need me. You’ll be fine without me.”
“I thought that too, once,” he says. “But I was wrong.”
“No, you weren’t. And she’ll keep doing it until one of us is gone. Maybe both. You should be the one to have her. You love her more than I do. You’re more like her.”
“Then why didn’t she ask me to get rid of you?” he says. “It’s not because she knew I wouldn’t do it. It’s because she always wanted you, Duke. She always loved you. Everyone loves you.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think I can survive her. And I know I can’t survive losing you.”
“You’re not losing me,” he says, wiping his nose. “Remember what I said on the way out of Faulkner? I promised I’d never leave you. So get up off this bed and walk out of here, or I’ll carry you out.”
“I just fuck everything up,” I say, sitting up and swiping angrily at my cheeks. “It’s better this way. I can show everyone I’m sorry. They don’t believe me now, but they will when I’m gone. Will you tell her that for me? That I’m sorry. I wish I could go back in time and undo it all. I can’t do that, but I can do this.”
“No,” he says. “You’re going to walk out of here and tell her yourself.”
“I made a mess of the life you made—the one I helped plan,” I say. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Nothing is ever enough. And if I can’t be happy with everything, then I’ll never be happy. But you can be happy without me.”
“I don’t need happiness,” Baron says. “I don’t even know what that looks like. I need you, Duke. Don’t you know that? I need you to help me with all the things I don’t have. You’re all my missing pieces. I’m only whole when you’re with me.”
“But you left.”
“And I thought I was fine,” he says. “I wasn’t fine, Duke. Without you, I’m lost, an alien among my own people. I don’t belong with them. I belong with you. I don’t work without you. Nothing works without you. Now come out of the house. Please, brother. I’m begging you.”
“She’s out there.”
We stare at each other a second, twin eyes behind twin pairs of glasses.
“Yes.”
“She could light it,” I say. “Get us both at once.”
His lips tighten, and I think he’ll argue, say that she wouldn’t. But he just nods. “Then we’ll go out together. I’m not leaving you, Duke. I don’t break promises. Not to you. Never to you.”
