Page 49 of Love Thy Brother
Talking to Cam was never easy. By the time we were done, I was craving a hit of just about anything to take the edge off the emotions crawling over my skin.
I had scars more than a decade old. Most days I forgot they lurked on my wrists and thighs, hidden by ink and a stubborn will to be someone else. Others, they throbbed and itched, reminding me I was just a blade away from a heartbeat of oblivion.
Cos that’s all it was. A split second. One deep breath. Then it all came rushing back, loaded with the extra weight of shame and regret. That iron-scented panic that someone was gonna see how weak and pathetic I was.
Fuck that. I had better ways to hide from my heart these days. Lots of them. Hell, if I messaged the right number, I could get a ten bag delivered from the corner shop up the road.
My phone was still in my hand, thumb hovering over the screen, the noise of the garage a familiar soundtrack to my worst habits. The smell of rubber and fuel. The grind of metal on metal with death-rock playing in the background. I let it all seep into me before it registered that something was different.
Something wasmissing.
Music. Someone had turned it off.
Getting lit momentarily forgotten, I emerged from my dark corner to find Bear and Rubi scowling at each other over the music system, Rubi more animated than he’d been in days. “Motörhead or Puddle of Mudd. That’s your choice. If you play Pussyfoot on repeat one more fucking time, the single brain cell you possess is going to melt out of your ears.”
Bear grumbled. I wasn’t close enough to hear what he said, but despite Rubi’s estimation of his intelligence being spot on, even he wasn’t stupid enough to argue.
Motörhead won out, about six levels quieter than the volume I’d ducked out to when Cam had called, and Bear went back to the Fat Boy he was servicing.
Rubi gathered a stack of paperwork from the floor and strode away, gifting me a view of his muscled back as he stomped to the office, the only thing wrong with it that he was heading in the opposite direction to where I stood.
Easily fixed. After checking on Bear, I followed him, propping a shoulder on the doorframe as Rubi bent over the desk. “You don’t like SikTh?”
He spared me a glance. “I don’t like anything eighty-four times in a row. Not many things, anyway.”
The ghost of his sense of humour flared in his autumn eyes. Somehow it latched harder than the showstopping grin he’d buried deep over the last few days, and it drew me in, Cam’s parting words echoing in my head.“I need you to take care of him. And I need you to understand that the only way to do that might be to let him take care of you.”
I’d spent a long time forcing myself not to give a fuck about what my big brother needed. Shutting down each and every request he ever made of me. But this...
I reached Rubi’s side, carving out a space where there was none. “What are you doing with all my shit?”
“Hmm?”
I scanned the ordered piles, the lack of chaos an alien landscape. “I’m never gonna be able to find anything if you don’t tell me where everything goes now.”
Rubi eyed me as I settled so close our elbows banged. “Who were you talking to?”
“When?”
“For the hour you’ve been gollumed over your phone.”
“Spying on me?”
“Not on purpose.” Rubi stapled the pile of papers in front of him. “It’s not easy being around you so much. I could follow you anywhere.”
“That’s new. Last few times I’ve asked you’ve saidno.” I grinned to let him know I wasn’t spoiling for a fight. “I was talking to Cam, if you really give a toss.”
Rubi snorted. “Yeah. Okay.”
“Ask him.”
“No, thanks. None of my business anyway.”
“Why did you ask then?”
“Because I’m a nosy bastard, and I’m killing myself imagining you’ve got someone on the hook who ain’t me.”
His word choice dragged me back to Cam’s warning. To the fear that crushed my heart. I looked closer at Rubi, at his reddened eyes and the weary lines on his face. How he stood with his broad shoulders hunched inward as if they could shield him from how he felt.
