“Bri, you shouldn’t be here,” Chris grumbles. “Why are you here?” He’s sweating and agitated, his legs twitching, his arm outright, holding the gun fixed on Charlie.
I turn to face Charlie who as usual is showing no emotion. His face is stoic, and so too is his body.
“He’s right, Bri. You shouldn’t be here,” Charlie repeats.
“Shut the fuck up!” Chris seethes, his hand jerking in response, making my heart jump painfully.
“I need answers,” I say, taking another step in. I face Chris but jerk my head towards Charlie. “I want to hear it from his mouth.” Charlie still appears unmoved as I turn to speak with him. My eyes fill with angry tears, and it’s only when Charlie spots them that his own fill with an element of empathy.
I suck in a breath. Now is not the time to get emotional. I want answers.
“Is it true?”
His exhaled breath releases, his body relaxing somewhat. “Yes.”
I knew it was probably true, but to hear it come out of his mouth hurts worse than I thought it would. I let one angry tear slide down my cheek before vowing to never let him see another.
“Did you deliberately target me to get close to Chris?”
“Yes.”
I grip my hands into fists. One word fucking answers won’t cut it. I need more than that!
“How did you manage that? Give me something, Charlie?” Realisation has my hand rubbing my forehead in an attempt to alleviate the stress pulsing through me. “Shit, is your name even Charlie? I assume not.” I let out a frustrated snort, shaking my head.
“My name is Charlie, but Cox isn’t my surname.” My eyes lock with his, conveying a message without saying any words. All this time, he’d used me. All this time, everything had been a lie.
“We wanted to infiltrate the group, but Chris had a tight ship of men he trusted, so I knew it was a long shot that I’d become integrated into his group.”
“Fucking too right!” Chris shouts. “Babe, can we move this along. I don’t know how much time we have. I need to put a bullet in his brain before the fucking rest of the pigs get here.”
I lay out my hand to Chris, asking him to calm down for a moment. “I need him to answer the question. I need to know how.” I do need to know how, but I’m also stalling as much as I can for Charlie’s sake.
“We noticed through surveillance just how close Chris was to you, so it was decided that the best way to get close to Chris was to get close to you. We quickly learned that you were looking for a job, and we found this abandoned antique store that we managed to bring back to life. Then it was just a matter of getting you in for an interview.”
I look back at the time I was looking everywhere for a job, wondering if one would ever come along. When I saw the advertisement on a lamppost outside our apartment, I thought it was too good to be true.
Turns out it really was.
“So the advert on that lamppost was just for my eyes to see.”
It wasn’t a question, but Charlie answers it anyway.
“As soon as we noticed that you had taken down the number, we took down the advert.”
I close my eyes, hurt gripping at my insides. “You were lying to me the whole time. Nothing was real.”
Charlie takes a step forward, his hand up to motion to me. “Some of it was real.”
I dip my head to the floor, the kindness in his voice too much to bear. But then Chris notices all of this. He’s not stupid.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
I pull my head up to look at him, but I don’t say a word, causing Chris’s eyes to widen in realisation.
“Bri,” he urges. “Talk to me. What the fuck does he mean?!”
Can I really do this? Lay it all out there for Chris to see, completely breaking him in the process? Can I really take that proverbial gun, aim it at his heart, and shoot? It would crush him. I quickly realise it’s too late to make that decision now because my mouth cementing shut at the pivotal moment gave me away straight off the bat. Now I have no alternative but to tell him what’s truly in my heart.
“I was so wrong… what I did over a year ago. What I made you do…”
Chris’s wild eyes bore into mine as he shakes his head. “That’s not fucking true, Bri. You saved me! You fucking saved us.”
I shake my head, my chin dipping to the floor. “My head was not in the right place. I missed you so fucking much, and I didn’t know how to fix you. I was lonely and desperate to get you back, and ultimately made a decision that ruined our lives…”
“Stop it!” Chris screams, banging his head with the butt of his gun. “That’s not fucking true. We were always meant to be together.”
I close my eyes, my answer but a whisper. “Not like that.”
“Bri, I think you should leave,” Charlie says, a warning in his voice. He then turns to Chris, who’s frantically looking at me for answers I can’t give him. “This is between me and you. Bri has nothing to do with this.”
Chris grits his teeth, his body shaking with rage. He’s a warming kettle about ready to boil. “Why do you fucking care so much, huh? What is she to you?”
“Don’t answer that,” I bark, my words escaping before my brain engages.
Chris snaps his head to me. “Why can’t he answer that?”
My eyes fill with tears, my betrayal leaping out of my body and falling to the floor in a heap in front of him. Chris’s mouth parts in horror, awareness zapping in that pained mind of his. I never wanted him to hurt… not like this. The treachery in his eyes at what I’ve done to him will stay with me for the rest of my life.
I will never forgive myself for this.
“Say it isn’t so, Bri. Say it!”
“Bri, you need to leave,” Charlie warns again.
“Shut the fuck up!” Chris’s eyes burn with rage as he raises the gun in Charlie’s direction, but before I can move my feet to save Charlie, the gun goes off, the ping of the shot echoing off the walls and piercing my ears.
I scream, my eyes trying to take everything in. “Chris!” I cry, running towards his slumped body, his hand clutching the area on his chest where Charlie shot him.
I kneel down, grabbing his hand, my tears slipping down my cheeks. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” I say over and over again. “I need to get the first aid kit!” I attempt to get up, but Chris tugs me down, shaking his head. “Chris, I need to tend to your wound. You’ll bleed to death!”
Chris shakes his head again, and for the first time tonight, he smiles, instantly transporting me back in time to all those years ago. It shocks me to my very core, taking my breath away.
“I think you and I always knew it should end this way.”
Fresh, hot tears pool my eyes as I shake my head. “No, Chris. You’re just injured. We’ll get you an ambulance, and you’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. Okay? And then we can be together, just like you wanted.”
Chris’s breaths become laboured, his chest wheezing from the blood filling his lungs. “I won’t be able to survive this, Bri, I feel it inside me. It’s my time to go. But you, you’re so young. You have a life to live.” He releases my hand, reaching up to place a strand of hair behind my ear, a soft, adoring smile creasing his lips.
“No,” I whine, not believing my ears. “I can’t lose you again. I refuse!”
Chris swallows hard, closing his eyes. “I was always holding you back. I can see it now. You need to be free, and although it kills me inside to know this, it won’t be with me.”
I grab his hand again, shaking it. “Please, Chris. Let me help you. Let me make this okay. Please.”
“No,” he wheezes, shaking his head and squeezing my hand back. “Take that key I gave you,” he says hoarsely, motioning his head to my chest where the chain hangs around my neck, “go to the locker and make a life for yourself with it. There’s not much in there, but enough to last you a few years if you spend it wisely.”
My ears don’t want to take in what
he’s saying. “But our dream..?”
Chris smiles. “It was always my dream. I knew it deep down, but I selfishly wanted to keep you all to myself. Go, take the money. You’ll never have to be hungry again.”
A sob wracks my body as I rock, shaking my head. I hear Charlie in the background on the phone, no doubt calling his colleagues in, but I don’t pay any attention. “Chris, no…”
“Yes,” he says, gripping my hand before releasing it. “Live your life, be happy. Promise me you’ll do it, Bri? Promise me you’ll live your dream.”
His eyes lock with mine, begging me to agree. He’s dying, and I have no choice but to accept that it’s his time.
“I promise,” I eventually reply, my heart heavy with the knowledge that his body is letting go.
Chris smiles softly, his eyes glazing over in pain. He’s losing so much blood. Pain tears away at my gut knowing it won’t be long before he passes.
With a strained breath, Chris lifts his hand up, showing me his little finger. “Pinky promise?” he asks, managing to show me that smile that always used to lift my spirits when we were younger.
I smile back, my heart bursting, taking in as much of this memory as possible. My one, last pinky promise.
I lift my hand, wrapping my little finger around his, my mind flashing with images of all the happy moments we shared together.
“Pinky promise,” I reply, and the moment I say it, Chris smiles one last time, his little finger slips from mine, his eyes shut, and he draws one last breath before his head drops to the side.
I cling onto his body, my loud sobs echoing around the room. I snuggle my head into his chest, and the tears just won’t stop. I don’t know how long I stay there, but at some point, a set of strong arms wrap around me, pulling me from Chris’s body into his own. I cry into Charlie’s chest, my grief too raw, my body desperately needing comfort.
“Bri, the police will be here soon, and I don’t want you here when that happens.”
Instantly, everything comes back to me. Charlie is a police officer. A police officer who shot and killed Chris. I push him away, fisting his chest, my mind filling with betrayal and rage. Nothing but rage.
“You killed him! You killed him! You lied to me, you son of a bitch!” I hit him, and I hit him, and with each strike, he just stands there taking it. When his eyes start to fill with tears, I break down again, the shock of his distress completely replacing my rage. I snuggle my head into his chest again, gripping the collars of his shirt and pulling him to me. Charlie gives me the time I need, cradling me in his arms, but eventually I pull away, knowing I need to leave.
Charlie cups my head in his hands, and I sniffle, trying to catch my breath. “The police will be here soon.”
He compels me with his eyes, so I nod my head and am walking around him to head to my car when I hear his voice.
“I never wanted to hurt you, Bri. You must believe that.”
I close my eyes, but I don’t say a word back. I simply carry on walking, open the shop door, and walk to my car.
As I pull out onto the road to make my journey home, sirens are blasting, police cars and an ambulance darting past me at lightning speed towards Charlie. Towards the carnage, and towards the corpse of my brother, Chris.
Today I buried my brother.
I am completely alone as they place him into the ground. It has rained the whole time, soaking me to the bone, but I stay even after the grave diggers refill the dirt, covering him so he will never be seen again. I haven’t cried since the day he died two weeks ago, and today is no exception. I just feel… numb.
I have been interviewed by police, but since they have no evidence to pin me to any actual involvement, they let me go. I was there a gruelling six hours, grilled by snide officers and leered at. My personal favourite was when I was walking down the hallway of the police station to be interviewed and heard an officer whisper, “Brother fucker,” under his breath.
Very original.
Of course, I had been asked directly in the interview room if we’d had more than a brother/sister relationship. I had denied it as, to put it simply, they had no evidence whatsoever of us having sex, so they can't slap an incest charge on me, that’s for certain. What did put a spanner in the works and had my heart racing, was several pictures of us kissing. My quick answer was to tell them it was all for show. They didn’t believe me, but who would? Suffice it to say, I left the station with promises that they will be in touch. I’m the only one left for them to question since everyone is dead or already fled the country.
They’ve been leaving me alone since then, presumably because I’ve needed to bury my brother, but I have no doubt now that the funeral is over, I will be hearing from them again. And the reason being is they don’t believe they’ve retrieved all the money that’s been obtained through the vast amount of crimes that Chris has committed. They believe I know where the cash is, and I do. It’s just they don’t know I know. That’s the big difference.
This is one of the reasons why, when I get back to my flat, I pack a bag and hide it away in the boot of the car I rented two days ago. I leave just enough clothes in the wardrobe, so if any of those fuckers come to interview me and start snooping around, they won’t suspect I plan on leaving. At least not yet. I just need tonight to lay in bed and grieve the loss of not only Chris but Charlie too.
I haven’t heard from him since that dreaded night; I hadn’t really thought that I would. He’s done what he’s supposed to, no doubt getting a pat on the back by all his comrades for a job well done. I hate him with a passion, but something inside me still yearns for him, regardless. Throughout my life, I have been used by men. Even Chris used and manipulated me. I could see it, but I chose to ignore it as at the end of the day, what happened with us was all my fault. I was the one who led us down that path, so I need to own it and move on. It just completely bamboozles me that in Chris’s last minutes of life, he chose to become my brother again, not my lover. I will forever wonder what it was that switched him so drastically. Is it only in death that we realise our wrongs? Who knows. Nobody will ever find out until faced with death themselves.
It’s dark outside, and the weather is still a perfect reflection of my mood. I lie on my bed, staring out the window at the black night sky, watching the rain pelt against my window. I haven’t eaten all day because the thought of putting food anywhere near my mouth makes me feel nauseated. I’ve been neglecting myself these last two weeks. In fact, the only thing I have made sure to do every day is shower and dress. The rest of it has been too much effort.
The faintest of knocking pricks my ears, but I ignore it, assuming it’s the neighbours beneath me banging around in their apartment. When it happens again, I hold my breath wondering if I’ve heard correctly. The banging then gets louder, and it’s then I realise someone is at the door.
I bolt up, my heart in my mouth, fearing it’s the police finally coming over to arrest me. What for, I have no fucking clue, but I’m sure they’ll get me for something.
The thumping on the door sounds again, and as I get closer, I hear the sound of a voice.
“Come on, Bri. Open up. I know you’re in there. I just want to talk.”
Charlie.
For the first time in two weeks, my eyes prick with tears. I angrily will them back and stand my ground. “Go away!” I shout back, not wanting to ever see his treacherous face again.
“Just let me in for a few minutes, Bri. That’s all I ask. I just need to speak with you.”
I press my back up against the wall by the door, my head leaning against it, my eyes closed. “Whatever you have to say you can say behind the door.”
He bangs it again with such force, I practically jump out of my skin.
“Open the fucking door, or I swear to God, Bri, I will kick it down.”
With an angry breath, I whisk around, unlocking the door and flinging it open, locking a hateful glare on him. He looks good, and I fucking hate him for it. He’s soaked through
from the rain, his jacket and his skin glistening with water. His caramel eyes are burning with such intensity that for a moment, it takes my breath away. But then I get angry again. How can he look this good when I feel nothing but shitty inside? He killed my brother. He’s the reason I’m in this mess.
“What do you want?” I growl as he barges his way in, almost knocking me off my feet in the process. “Did I say you could come in?” I let go of the door, and it closes behind me. Once Charlie steps through, he glances around the room before he spins to look at me. What he’s searching for, I have no clue. “I’m not hiding any drugs or money in here, so if you’ve come to search, you’re shit out of luck.”
His lips thin as he breathes through his nostrils. “I know you’re mad at me…” I snort, causing him to halt a second. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, Bri. I was simply doing my job—”
“Oh, really?” I bite back, interrupting him. “So sleeping with me was part of your job, huh? Getting me to fall in love with you was part of your job?!”
I snap my lips shut. I’ve already said too much. The shocked look on his face makes me curse my heart, which seems all too eager to reveal the truth to him.
Charlie blinks a couple of times before he regains his composure. “I was to get close to you, but not that close. I could get fired if they found out I slept with you.”
With my hand behind my back, I grip the door handle tightly, placing my anger into it. “If you’re here to make sure I don’t talk, then you have no need to be concerned over that. I won’t tell them shit.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not why I’m here—”
“Then why are you here? Because, to be quite frank with you, for a man who was supposed to get close to me, you really fucking sucked at it, because you pretty much ignored me for six whole months.”
“I know,” he whispers, his shoulders sagging in dejection. “Even though I was never there, I was always around, watching you. You never knew, but there were hidden cameras in the shop watching your every move and listening to your every conversation. I would either stand by the door listening to you or watch you on a screen. I watched you for all those months, letting you virtually run the shop in order to hopefully get intel on you. I waited and I watched as you conversed with customers, your beautiful smile lighting up the shop, your kind and caring words to every single person you met. I didn’t want to fucking like you, Bri. I didn’t want to feel all the things that went through me as I watched. For six whole months, I tried to avoid talking to you because I knew I would be enchanted just as much as all of the customers were. The problem, though, is I already was, and I was just too blind and pig-ignorant to admit it to myself. I was there to work, not to fall in love.”
Tainted Love Page 25
