by B. B. Hamel
I pull up outside of the house after about twenty minutes of driving. It’s a small house on the outskirts of Juneau, not a fancy place, but it’s my first stop for the day. I climb out of the truck and walk up the front walkway, feeling more nervous than I thought I would.
I knock on the door and wait. After a minute, there’s some noise inside, and the door opens.
Albert’s wife looks out at me.
“Morning, Mona,” I say.
She frowns. “What do you want, Carson?”
“I wanted to see how Albert’s doing.”
“He’s not doing great.” She stares at me, her expression icy.
“I know that. I’m sorry. I never expected it to go this far.”
“When are you calling the sheriff?” she asks. “Albert was brutally beaten, you know. His ribs are broken.”
“I know,” I say. “I feel responsible. I’m here to apologize.”
“Take your apology and shove it up your—“
“Mona!” Albert’s voice cuts into the conversation. “Let him inside.”
She frowns for a second then opens the door and steps aside. “You don’t deserve him,” she murmurs as I walk past her.
I grunt, basically in agreement. Albert is sitting in the kitchen sipping a cup of coffee. He grins at me as I step in.
“Sorry about that, sir,” he says.
I sigh. “Least of what I deserve,” I answer.
“Nonsense. You didn’t kick my ribs in, did you?”
“No. But you were in that car because of me.”
“I was in that car because I’m a driver. It was your bastard brother and his asshole men that did this to me.”
I sit down across from him. “I’m going to pay your medical bills.”
“Not necessary.”
“I insist.”
“Really, I have good insurance. Didn’t cost a penny.”
I sigh, shaking my head. “At least let me pay you for the time you’re missing.”
He grins. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that.”
I smile a little bit, feeling better. “Listen, Kylie sends her regards. She’s sorry for what happened, but she feels like you saved her life. She’s grateful.”
“I didn’t do anything but get my ass kicked.”
“True. But she told me to send this.” I place an envelope on the table in front of him.
He takes it and opens it. “No,” he says, shaking his head. “No way.”
“Take it,” I say.
“I can’t. How much is this?”
“Just a few thousand.”
“Carson.”
I hold up a hand. “Please, Albert. Take it.”
He sighs. Mona comes into the kitchen, plucks the envelope from his hand, and looks at me. “We’ll take it,” she says, and then leaves.
Albert laughs. “Woman knows what she’s about,” he says.
I grin myself. “Good. I’m glad you’re taken care of.”
He nods then winces in pain. He leans back in his chair and sighs. “What about you?” he asks. “Who’s taking care of you?”
“Nobody,” I say. “And I don’t need it, either.”
“This thing between you and your brother... it’s had the town divided for years, you know that?”
I nod slowly. “I know.”
“Don’t let him tear this place apart. But most of all, don’t let him take you down with him.”
“He nearly killed you,” I say, my face straight. “He nearly killed Kylie.”
“True,” he says.
“He deserves what I give him.”
“Maybe.” He winces again and shrugs. “But you don’t deserve any of it.”
I nod and stand. “Feel better. Come back to work when you’re ready.”
“I will, sir.”
I shake his hand and then head out of the kitchen, his words ringing in my ears. Mona gives me a look as I leave and I can’t help but grin to myself. I’ll have to avoid her for the rest of my life, I’m sure.
I get back into my truck and fire up the engine before pulling back out into the road. I reach across the seat and feel the revolver I have tucked into the cushion.
Albert’s right. This feud, or whatever the fuck it is, has been tearing people apart in this town for years. But that’s because I’ve let it. I haven’t pushed back against Elliot because I’ve felt guilty, but for what? For being fucking older and more successful?
I won’t let him do it anymore. I just take it from him. I could roll over and let him have this whole fucking town, but he doesn’t deserve it, no more than anyone else does.
Elliot lives in a house closer to town along the water. It’s another fifteen-minute drive and the neighborhood changes drastically as I get close to his place. The houses are all larger here, farther apart, though it’s still technically the city limits.
This is the rich part of town. It’s a big gated place with lots of street lights and virtually no crime. I could live here, if I wanted, with all the other rich oil men. But I choose to live up in the mountains, away from these bastards, because I never felt like I fit in.
I pull up to Elliot’s place and hit the buzzer on the intercom. Usually someone replies, but today the gate just swings open, letting me in.
I don’t know what I’m going to do here, but when I park the truck out front, I slip the revolver into my jeans. I cover it with my shirt before stepping out and heading inside.
Elliot meets me in the entrance hall. His house is a gaudy thing, high ceilings and a useless pediment over the top of the front door. There’s an enormous staircase and a baby grand piano on the first floor that never gets played. Elliot meets me there, standing halfway down the stairs with a shit-eating grin on his face.
Rage flows through me. I reach back slightly, ready to draw my weapon, but I pause.
Why the hell did he let me in like this? He knows that I know. He’s well aware that I’m going to be angry as fuck and want to hurt him very badly. He doesn’t seem upset or uneasy at all, and he should be. We’re very much alone, and I could do anything to him right now.
I take a deep breath and look around. The place seems empty, but there’s something wrong about that. Elliot has kids, two little girls, but they’re nowhere to be seen. Normally they’re running around or watching television, but the place is quiet.
“Where’re the girls?” I ask him.
His smile falters. “They’re out with their mother.”
“Why?” I ask him.
“What do you care?” He grins again. “You’re here for a little revenge, I take it.”
I move my hand away from my gun. This is a trap. I don’t know how or why, but there’s no doubt in my mind that it’s a trap. He wants me to do something rash and violent right now.
“I’m here to warn you,” I say, improvising.
“About what?” He takes a step down the stairs, closer to me.
“If you push me again, I will hurt you. I’m done being your brother, Elliot. I’m done going easy on you.”
He sneers at me, and I sense his own anger rising. “You go easy on me?” He laughs, rueful and sickening. “You’re a joke, Carson.”
“You’ve been warned. I tried to ignore your shit for years. I put up with it, told myself it would all go away, that we could go back to being brothers. But we can’t, can we?”
“Can we?” he mocks, coming down to the bottom of the steps. “No, we can’t, you stupid piece of shit. We haven’t been brothers for a long time.”
That pierces me, and I know it’s true. We haven’t been brothers for a long time, not since we were children. Twenty years or more we haven’t been brothers, but I haven’t been able to admit it to myself.
Not anymore. I can see him for what he is.
“Good,” I say. “I’m glad. I don’t have to feel bad when I crush you.”
“Come on, where’s the anger, you pussy!” he says, getting hysterical. I step back away from him, looking around. “I nearly ki
lled your beloved driver. I scared and hurt your girl. You’re just going to take it?”
There’s movement in the room beyond the staircase. It’s brief, but there’s definitely somebody back there. I step back toward the door and grab the handle, not turning my back.
Elliot keeps coming toward me. “You’ve been out for me from the start, always trying to destroy me, always taking what you think belongs to you. But it’s my turn, Carson. I’m going to take your woman, your driver, everything you own, and I’m going to burn it all to the ground. I’ll cut your pretty little girlfriend’s throat and I’ll make you watch.”
Two men step into the hallway, both holding guns, both coming straight toward us. I push the handle down and stumble out the front door, stumbling back down the front steps. I grab the gun from my jeans but before I can draw it, the men grab Elliot and start pulling him away.
“Let me go!” he screams, rage driving him now. “He’s going to hit me, just watch! We’ll get it on camera and he’ll be done. Come on, Carson, you fucking pussy, come at me!”
As the men pull Elliot away, I slip the gun back into my jeans and walk to the car. I get behind the wheel, start the engine, and pull away.
As I put some distance between me and the insane and ranting Elliot, I realize what happened back there.
He must have had cameras wired all over, recording everything. He probably assumed I’d attack him, beat him up, hurt him, whatever. He had men nearby to stop it if it went too far. He was going to use that tape to show our father or maybe to blackmail me in court. Doesn’t matter what he was going to do with them, but I know he was trying to provoke me.
I didn’t take his bait. I’m lucky that I had such a bad feeling to start out with, because otherwise I would have fallen right into his trap. I wanted to hurt him, wanted to go after him, and the only thing holding me back was that sinking feeling. And the moment I glanced at the men in the back room.
At least now I know what lengths Elliot will go to. The person that was once my brother is dead and gone, completely dead and gone, and I don’t have to worry about that anymore.
I don’t have to restrain myself. I don’t feel bad. That man back there is not my brother. He’s a person that’s going to try and do anything he can to hurt me, including coming after the people I care about.
For Albert’s sake, for Kylie’s sake, for the sake of the whole town, and for my own sake, I’m going to break Elliot into a thousand pieces and piss on his grave.
16
Kylie
I wake up with the light streaming in through the windows, drenched in sweat, my heart racing in my chest.
In the dream, I was alone on a raft in the middle of the ocean. I knew there was something below me in the water, something big, something enormous, but I didn’t know what it was. If I stayed on the raft, I’d be okay, but it was going to swallow me whole if I got into the water.
The ocean began to get violent as a storm rolled into the area. Carson was with me, and then it was my father, and then my father was the thing in the water. At some point, the raft was a canoe, and the whole ocean was trying to throw me into the water. I heard the voice of Elliot, laughing at my pain.
And then I woke up.
I sit there breathing deeply, trying to get myself together. I hate having nightmares. I thought I might be past this, since I’m safe with Carson now, but apparently I’m not. I don’t know if I ever will outgrow it, but I hope that I do soon.
I stretch and slowly get out of bed. I don’t remember coming into my room the night before. I was a little tipsy from the wine, and exhausted from the excitement. Carson must have carried me here.
I go into the bathroom and get into the shower. Excitement runs down my spine at the thought of Carson. I finally got to know what it would feel like to sleep with him, and it was so much better than I expected. I thought he’d be good, better than good, but it was something else. Something totally unexpected.
The way he wrapped my wrists up was skillful and gentle. He clearly knows what he’s doing, and I like it. He’s dominant, controlling, and the way he talks dirty to me sends shivers down my spine. It’s totally filthy and wrong, but for some reason I love it.
I finish my shower and towel off before getting dressed and heading out into the main part of the house.
There’s nobody there. I expected to see Carson, but he’s nowhere in sight. I want to panic for a second, but I force myself to stay calm. He wouldn’t leave me here if I were in any danger.
I check the kitchen and find the note he left me on the counter. I sigh, sitting down on a stool, and stretch my legs. He’ll be back soon, and everything will be okay.
I busy myself making some breakfast and straightening up from the night before. I rinse out some glasses and toss the empty bottle into the recycling. I muse to myself that I’m starting to feel very comfortable in this strange man’s home, which I never would have guessed.
I didn’t have much growing up. My father made a living, but it wasn’t much of one. He drank away any extra money he made, and so I had to get jobs as soon as I possibly could just to afford school supplies and clothes. My father didn’t care if I showed up in shoes that were falling apart, just so long as I left the house and didn’t bother him.
My old house could fit twice inside of Carson’s place. My room alone is like the size of my old living room. It’s totally bizarre how I went from living with an abusive father in basically poverty to this beautiful place.
I walk across the living room and stand in front of the enormous window looking out over the snow-covered trees. Carson is out there somewhere in the city, and I wonder what he’s doing. I can probably guess, but I hope he’s being safe at the very least. I don’t want him to get hurt or to do something stupid just because of what happened.
I get a tinge of fear when I think about that, but I force myself not to dwell on it. Carson has been so good to me. I can handle a little adversity in my life. I’ve survived a lot so far.
I can remember one night, my father came home with a load on, drunk out of his mind. He had lost his Christmas bonus in a card game, and he was looking to blame someone for his bad luck.
Of course, he blamed me. It started with him yelling, and when I tried to lock myself in my room to get away from him, he broke the door down. He blamed me for the broken door, and ended up beating me until both of my eyes were black and swollen.
I couldn’t leave the house for two weeks after that. I didn’t want to explain what happened to me, and people would have asked questions. He was surprisingly quiet about the whole thing, although he did all the cleaning and cooking and shopping for once, at least until my bruises healed.
That didn’t stop him from hitting me again, of course. As soon as he got drunk and forgot about what happened, he hit me again, and again, and again.
I got out, though. I don’t need to keep thinking about him and what he did to me. I got out and he can’t hurt me ever again.
I take a deep breath, looking out over the landscape, and I clear my mind. I feel at peace, strangely at peace, in this place. I never thought I’d like Alaska, and at first it seemed harsh and horrible.
But the more I’m in this house and with Carson, I start to see the beauty all around me. I start to understand why people want to live in this place, at the end of the world, secluded from everyone else. The trees covered in snow, the wind through the forest, it feels like we’re all alone and nobody can ever hurt us.
I walk back into the kitchen, smiling, and pull out the recycling bin. I carry it with a little difficulty out into the garage. It’s freezing cold because the garage door is open as I head over to the recycling can.
I dump the bin into the can and as I turn to go back inside, something catches my eye.
I freeze, motionless, fear slicing through me. I stare out into the woods and yes, that’s it, I see it again.
It’s a man wearing all black. I think he has a gun, but I can’t really tell. He’s stand
ing out in the trees, moving between them, and he’s watching me. I can’t see his eyes but I know he’s watching me.
I stifle a scream. Instead, I run back inside and slam the door. I lock it before running to the front door and locking that one as well.
Panic rising through me, I grab my phone and dial Carson’s number. “Come on,” I mumble as it rings.
Finally, he answers. “Hello?” he says.
“Carson,” I say, everything coming out in a rush, “I took out the recycling and there was a man in the woods. I think he was watching me, I think he had a gun, I think it might be your brother again. I locked—“
“Kylie,” he says, cutting into my story. “Kylie, hold on, please. Calm down.”
“He’s out there with a gun. Carson, where are you?”
“You’re not in danger,” he says clearly and slowly. “I hired those men.”
I pause for a second. “You hired them?”
“That’s right,” he says. “I know a guy in the security business. I hired some men to watch the place and keep Elliot away. They’re there to protect you.”
I take a deep breath and feel the panic subside slightly. “Are you sure?” I ask. “He had a gun. He was watching me.”
“I’m sure,” he says softly. “They’ve been there since I left. I told them not to bother you, but maybe that was a mistake. I should have warned you. I’m sorry.”
I take a deep breath and let it out. I stare out the window again, trying to get the calm I felt just a few minutes ago, but that’s totally gone now. My heart is still beating and I can feel the rush of adrenaline still inside of me.
“Okay,” I say finally.
“I’m on my way home,” he says. “You’ll be okay?”
“Yes,” I say, sighing and shaking my head. “That just scared the shit out of me.”
He laughs and I can’t help but smile a little bit. “Be strong, I’ll be there soon.”
I hang up the phone and shake my head, annoyed but relieved. Just then, there’s a knock at the front door, making me jump.
I grumble to myself and walk up to it. I look through the little window and a man wearing all black looks back at me. He’s in his forties, in pretty good shape, with receding hair and brown eyes.
