Chapter 4

Neil

I squint at the designs for the third time in five minutes. At first, I stare at the lines of architecture on the board but soon they’re replaced by strawberry blond hair and plump pink lips.

“Fuck this!”

I grind the heel of my palms into my eyes and try again.

This time, I’m assaulted with a memory of her pale skin and creamy thighs.

“You know what? I give up.” I huff in frustration and turn away from the board. On it are the building designs of the latest project I’m working on. Or at least I’m supposed to be working on them. Instead, I’m getting distracted by a certain woman.

In my defense, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. The memory of her body grinding against mine flashes, and I feel myself start to harden.

Snap out of it!

I let out an annoyed groan at my twisted thoughts and glance at the board one more time.

“I’m going to deal with you later.” I mutter, tapping the design. Thankfully, it’s Saturday so I’m not under any particular pressure to work.

I get up from the stool and stroll over to my desk to pick up my phone. Then I walk out of the office.

My assistant looks up from her computer as I stroll past. Without stopping, I call out to her,

“You shouldn’t be here. It’s the weekend.”

I might as well be speaking to a brick wall. My loyal assistant loves my company even more than I do.

“Just checking on some things, Sir.”

She returns back to her computer, and I shake my head at how serious she is. One of these days, I’ll give her a compulsory leave.

I get into the elevator and head downstairs. All the while, my phone is blowing up with text messages.

It’s my friends Grant and David. They are trying to confirm the location we’re supposed to meet up.

David: Golf course or bar?

Grant: Hey asshole, answer us or don’t whine when we take matters into our hands.

Smirking, I send a quick text to our chat group.

Me: I never thought you wanted to see me this badly.

Their reactions are hilarious, and we confirm the location. Just then the elevator hits the destination floor and I step out.

*

I steer my car into the parking lot of the gentleman’s club. After much deliberation, the boys and I decided to meet in a bar-like setting but with maximum comfort. Luckily for us, we are members of an elite club that offers exactly that.

I step out of the car and a valet rushes to take my keys to help with the parking.

“Thanks,” I tell him before heading inside.

The interior is just as lavish as the exterior. Fancy wallpapers, exotic furniture and plush dark rugs. I spot my friends sitting in a section that contains low chairs meant for relaxation.

“Took you long enough,” Grant grumbles.

I sigh heavily as I sink into the chair. “I was held up in traffic.”

David leans back and takes a very good look at me. I fidget under his stare, “What?”

“Something’s up with you.”

“Go figure,” I mumble. Ever since the interview with a certain someone, I haven’t been myself. Concentrating on simple tasks has become difficult. Let’s not even talk about the wet dreams I’ve been getting...

The both of them watch me expectantly. Even though we have been close since childhood, I still find myself marveling at how alike they are. Both In physical appearance and behavior.

They have the same shade of blond hair, the same crystal blue eyes. The way they slightly tilt their heads to the side when they’re figuring out something. It’s a little creepy to be honest.

But they’re the best men I’ve ever known. The only people on earth I trust.

“I think you said something about getting another physical therapist for Aaron,” David says as he picks up a glass of whiskey.

His brother gawks at me, “Another one?”

I know his concern. The past ones did little to help Aaron. But I can’t give up on my son.

“Yeah,” I sigh, waiting for a waiter to fill my glass. Then I pick it up and take a sip.

“This isn’t me being a pessimist but how are you sure it’s going to be different this time?”

“She was referred to me by an employee. Apparently, she’s able to work magic on kids,” I snort into my glass, “Not that I’m convinced.”

I might be deeply attracted to Allison but I’m not as delusional to believe that she’s going to do much. But that doesn’t mean she can’t try though.

Grant chuckles and claps his brother’s shoulder, “And to think I always wanted a kid. Imagine having to deal with this. Sucks to be you, man.”

David shoves him, “Come on. Be sensitive for once.”

Then he turns to me, “At least she’s qualified.”

“With two years of practice,” I turn my chin up to stress the words, “Post graduation.”

Grant bursts out laughing, and David just watches me blankly.

“Okay. Wow,” he remarks. “She’s a young one then.”

Hesitation pools at the back of my tongue. We may be best friends but that doesn’t mean I have to tell them everything.

Right?

“She’s very young, yes,” I nod and pause for a while. Contemplating.

“Is she pretty?” This comes from Grant. Ever the pervert.

I narrow my eyes at him, “She is.” He opens his mouth to say something stupid, but I shut him down, “And no. I’m not interested in having anything with her beyond professional business.”

Liar. It’s a little too late for that.

“You sure about that?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” I snap. I don’t know what possesses me–self preservation maybe. But it leads me to blurt out, “I’m sure because I already met her a while back and we…”

I regain control of my tongue and stop myself before I can complete the confession. Not that it matters. Anyone with half a brain can easily deduce what I was going to say.

My friends are watching me with rapt attention. Grant wastes no time in prodding me.

“You what?”

I shrug and reach for my drink. A hand swoops down to take it before I can. I look up to see Grant gaping at me.

“What went on between you and the therapist ‘a while back’?”

I suck in a breath between my teeth. There is no way around this; I have to come clean.

“We…ah…”

The brothers glare at me, their message loud and clear.

Don’t lie.

“We had sex, okay? It was a one-time thing,” I throw my around hands wildly as I explain, “I met this pretty girl at the bar and she looked bored as hell. We went to her apartment and things got wild.”

An understatement.

“Afterwards I left and didn’t have any contact with her until the interview.”

David’s curiosity is blatant, “And how long did you guys go without any contact?”

“Five years.”

He lifts his eyebrows, “Wow.”

“But I’m telling you nothing is ever happening between us…again. She has a kid and even though she claims not to be in a relationship, I’m sure her child’s father is lurking somewhere.”

The brothers glance at each other before turning back to me. There’s a strange gleam in Grant’s eyes.

“If you say so.”

He leans forward to move things around the table. He pushes the drinking glasses to one side and begins arranging a game of poker in the middle of the table. He shares the cards among us and places the chips in perfect position.

Then he looks up at me with a wink, “Put your game face on. It’s your best chance at winning.”

**Twenty-five years ago…**

“Stop all the damn crying!”

I wince at my mother’s volume. She’s spread out on the only couch in the living room, watching Ru Paul’s. The couch is old and tattered, befitting our tiny hovel of a home.

My sister, Tasha cries even louder. I look at her small, red face and hunched shoulders. Her thin arms and legs give away exactly what she’s feeling–she’s hungry.

My mom huffs from the couch and screams, “SHUT UP OR YOU WON’T GET ANY DINNER!”

Tasha stops crying out of shock. I wrap my arms around her and give her a comforting hug.

“Like you’d give us any dinner in the first place,” I mutter.

Mom snaps her head to give me a threatening look. She looks so scary with her matted hair and wild, angry eyes.

“Did you just talk back at me?”

I swallow my tongue in fear. I shouldn’t have said anything at all.

Mom springs up from the couch and bears down on me. On us.

Her voice is low when she seethes, “You think you’re so big now, don’t you? You little shit. Who the hell do you think you are to talk back to me?”

A teenager. I’m fourteen even though I don’t look it. The old neighbor next door tells me I’m a late bloomer. That it’s the reason why I haven’t added an inch in height or had my voice break like a man’s.

Late bloomer or not, I have to protect Tasha from mom.

I say nothing and she huffs out a laugh.

“I thought so.”

She leaves her two hungry children sitting in a corner and returns back to her show. She can’t be bothered about anything, much less about us.

Later that night, I whip up a simple cheese and cracker sandwich for Tasha. I hand it to her and she tries to break it but I stop her.

“What about you?” She sniffs.

I crouch down to her level and cup her face. She’s only eight–too young to be stuck in this rotten life.

“I’ll be fine, Tasha.”

Her big grey eyes glisten with tears. She knows I’m sacrificing another night on an empty stomach for her.

“We’ll be alright,” I whisper, trying not to wake mom, “Soon, we’ll be rich and we won’t have to worry about sharing cracker sandwiches for dinner.”

She wraps her thin arms around my neck, sobbing quietly. I dig my face into her ratty shirt and cry too.

*

A year has passed and with it, the old version of myself. Now I’m fifteen and I guess I’ve activated my growth spurt.

“Where’s Tasha?”

My voice is a deep baritone that makes my mom jump. She turns to glower at me and I see the budding fear in her eyes as she looks up at all six foot two of me.

She huffs and snaps irritably, “Why are you asking me? She’s probably at school or something.”

I shake my head at her. How much more neglectful can she be?

“It’s five already. No school is open at this time.”

Mom starts to yell, “Why don’t you go bother someone else, hmm? If you care so much, go look for her!”

She turns around to the counter to finish whatever it is she’s doing.

Lately I’ve been nurturing feelings of anger and hate deep inside me. It has become a part of me– a part of my bones and blood. Sometimes I’ll get so upset and the anger rises to the surface, threatening to explode.

Only my sister is capable of calming me down in those moments.

And now, she isn’t here.

“YOU BITCH!” I scream.

I grab mom’s shoulder and force her to turn around. She has to see me; the monster only she created through her neglect and abuse.

My blood is steaming in my veins as adrenaline pumps into my muscles.

“You vile, disgusting bitch! You only think about yourself and no one else!” I stab a finger at her, “Your nine year old daughter is out there and you don’t even care! What did we ever do to you to deserve the way you treat us?!”

She’s speechless, gaping at me. I look away from her blood drained face that is a replica of mine.

“Tasha deserves better and so do I. We shouldn’t have been born to a selfish monster like you!”

Mom gains her voice and she lashes out, “You call me a monster but I’m the one that stayed for you and Tasha when your father left!”

“That doesn’t make it okay!”

“Then leave if you want!” She throws her arm in the direction of the door, “Walk away just like your scumbag of a father did!”

We exchange glares as we pant with exertion.

She has just helped me confirm a plan that has been forming in my mind. The plan to leave this shit hole and never look back.

But for Tasha…my sweet, dear Tasha.

I storm away from her and to my room. After throwing the few clothes I have into a fraying backpack, I head back to the living room.

My sister is standing at the door in clothes wet from the pouring rain outside. She looks between mom and I, sensing our quarrel. Then her eyes fall on the backpack on my shoulder.

“Where are you going?”

I go to her and hug her tightly. She’s shivering but I know it’s not just from the cold.

Her arms hold my neck and she clings to me, begging, “Please don’t go.”

“I have to.” My heart has never known this much pain.

She begins to cry, “Don’t go Neil. Don’t leave me here.”

I hold her head and whisper into her wet hair, “Remember what I said about becoming richer? If I stay here, it’s not going to happen. I have to make it work.”

I pull back from her and give her a sad smile. Her face becomes a blur as tears swim in my vision.

“I’ll come back for you soon.”

*

I lean against an alley wall and close my eyes. It has been a long day.

A week ago I left home and I still feel a sense of loss…like a part of me is missing.

Tasha…

I only hope she’s okay.

Today I’ve been about the city looking for food. I went to beg from some stores but the owners kicked me out and threatened to call the police.

My stomach makes a loud noise and I clench it tightly.

The homeless shelters provide food but it doesn’t get to everyone. After the elderly, sick and pregnant have been fed, the rest of us have to live off scraps. If we’re lucky.

I’ve been thinking about going back home but my resolve won’t allow me. I’d rather die of hunger than go back to that toxic place.

At least Tasha is in a better place than I am.

I try to shut off my erratic thoughts and figure out a way to get food.

“Heads up!”

Something wet lands on my face. My eyes fall open instantly.

I run the stain and sniff it.

Hmmm.

Wet chocolate cake.

Without thinking, I devour the tiny piece and lick it clean off my finger. Shadows appear in the alley and I look up to see two scruffy looking boys staring at me.

One of them appears to be my age while the other is noticeably younger. It’s dark and I can’t see their faces.

“That could have been poop,” the older one remarks. He’s holding something in his hands.

“Well, it isn’t,” I say, rising to my feet, “Do you have more of that?”

“Why would I tell you?”

I move closer to them with menacing strides. “Because you’ll leave me no choice but to beat the shit out of you and take it by force.”

The younger one gasps and urges him, “Give him the cake, Grant. I don’t want any trouble.”

The bigger boy doesn’t back down, “No David. Let him come take it.”

I start towards him only to halt in my tracks when an extra pair of shadows appear. These ones are bigger.

“No need to fight kids. It’s just a piece of cake.”

They reveal themselves to be two older guys–eighteen or nineteen. They look between us with a dangerous smirk on their lips.

One of them stretches out his hand, “That none of you will be eating. Come on kiddo, hand it over.”

The boy hesitates. The older guys become angry and move towards him.

“You little…”

“Leave them alone!”

I run towards the bully and punch him in the temple. Then I turn to knee the other one in the groin.

As the bullies moan in pain, I quickly frisk through their pockets and find stashes of money.

The other boys watch in shock as I rob a pair of notorious street bullies.

“Come on,” I urge as I run out of the alley. Their pounding footsteps tell me they’re right behind.

We run until we get to a safer, more secluded part of the street. Then we fall to our knees panting hard.

There are lamp posts here and I see their faces clearly for the first time. They look eerily identical.

“You’re… brothers?” I pant.

The older one nods, “I’m Grant…and this…is David.”

David waves shyly at me. I can’t help but smile at him. He reminds me of my sister.

Grant thrusts out his hand to me. It’s stained a dark brown with the cake.

I wave him off, “No thanks,” I flash the wads of money I robbed from the bullies, “I have enough to buy a proper meal now.”

David looks at me with pleading eyes, “Can we come with you?”

I gesture for them to follow, “Of course.”