Doubt #3 (The Deception Series #1)

by Hopkins, J. D.

  I let out a small laugh. "Damn right you're going to explain. What's in that bag?" I point with my head towards the black gym bag he has with him.

  "It's your money." He lets out a small, defeating sigh as he drops the bag on the floor, bringing both raised hands back down.

  "Oh the investment money?" I tighten my grip of the gun with both hands.

  He nods in agreement, too ashamed to verbalize it.

  Feeling content that he doesn't have a weapon on him, I lower my gun as he drops his head to face the floor again. I run up and slap him around the face, then retreat back to my position, pointing the gun at him again.

  He lets out a groan while he rubs his cheek. "I can't say I don't deserve that, Dana, but please, violence is not going to solve anything here."

  "You deserve worse, Dean. Why would you have lied to me like this? Why?" I plead with him.

  He sucks in a deep breath and stares towards the ceiling, shaking his head. "I'm a con man, Dana, plain and simple. Anyone in this position right now would never have come back to face you, but I chose to, because I genuinely feel something for you. I know I'm screwed. I know I've done wrong. But one thing I can say is that I didn't expect to ever care for you the way I do."

  A sickening knot wraps around my stomach as I try to battle my weak emotions to what he just said.

  "Bullshit. You're only saying this right now because I have a gun pointing to your head, asshole!"

  He shakes his head in disagreement. "No I'm not. I've had a gun pointed at me many times, and I know when someone has the intention to use it. You don't. You're too smart and caring to do so."

  "You don't know me!" I yell, angered by his assumption.

  "I know enough about you to know you wouldn't use it. The last thing you will want to do is serve time for me." He walks in gently, with eyes that scream sorrow.

  I can't help but feel hypnotized as he edges closer and closer to me. Dean slowly grasps the end of the gun, and lowers it gently to the floor.

  "Violence will not solve any of this, nor will it make you feel better." He whispers to me with his deep voice.

  I shake my head tamely to disagree while fixating on his eyes. "No." I whisper.

  I jolt backwards away from him and regain control over the situation. "Get the fuck away from me, Dean!" I yell, forcing him to take three steps back.

  "Alright, Dana!" He shouts. "I get you hate me, and wish the worst for me, but, pointing a gun at me or hitting me is not going to get you any further than if you was to be civil."

  "Civil?!" I highlight sarcastically. "I think our versions of being 'civil' have different meanings, clearly. If your idea of being civil is not to be angry at the person who lied and set you up in a trap, then you truly are deranged." I add.

  Silence soon engulfs Jess's house as I continue to hold the gun at him while his back is practically pressed up against the wall.

  "Now, I want you to talk, but first, how did you get here?" I ask assertively.

  "I biked it." He replies.

  "And you were stupid enough to park it outside this drive, knowing that the cops know all about you and me?" I laugh, shaking my head in disbelief.

  "No. I parked it a few blocks from here. I may be a piece of shit, but I'm not stupid when it comes to police."

  I exhale through my flared nostrils. "Clearly not, because you're a wanted man now, and your creepy brother has thrown you under the bus! Now talk! Why me? Why?!" I shout at him, this time with more authority.

  "I'm a con man. I steal from people who win lots of money, or who have lots of money. I lure them into a trap, and go. You were simply one of those people. There was only one problem..." He pauses while gazing longingly into my eyes.

  "Well?" I march him on to continue.

  "I never intended to develop feelings for you. Normally, I have no care for our victims... I simply do not care. I'm cold like that, but you..." He pauses.

  "You did some weird voodoo shit to me, because the moment we struck up a conversation, I instantly liked you. And it got stronger, as we continued to do things together. Steve resented me for it. That's probably why he's snitched on me like this, the little pussy." He shakes his head while curling his tongue in distaste over Steve.

  A wave of heat and cold pulsates within me as I battle empathy for him, with rage over his wrongdoings.

  "And how the hell are you meant to expect me to believe you?" I respond, with a lesser tone to my voice.

  "Because, I have never thought about a girl the same way I've thought about you. I've never begged Steve to abandon a job the way I did with this one." He pauses, and slowly walks closer to me, strictly fixating on my eyes. "Believe me when I say this, I have never bought anyone a gift before, except you and that's the God honest truth! I was forced to do this, Dana. Steve threatened me that if I do not follow through with this job, then he would tell you the truth about me. Please, you've got to believe me." A gloss forms on his eyes as he gradually lowers the gun in my hands once again.

  I'm mentally numb. I don't know what to think, say or do anymore. He's either fooling me again, or he's being brutally honest.

  "I can't believe you though, Dean. Your lies are so vast and destructive that there is very little room for truth to exist anymore." I reply with a trembling chin. "What about filing your statement at the police station? I've just gotten my crime reference letter today, where's yours?" I continue.

  "You know I didn't file it, I couldn't." He answers softly.

  I pull away from him, raising the gun once again. "What about all the stuff I trusted you with about Ryan, my family, my past? Was you only concerned so you could loosen me up for a fuck?"

  He shakes his head in annoyance. "No, no! For fuck sake, Dana! I care for you. The stuff you trusted me with is still there! As for the sex... I may be cold, but I'm not sick! We only did that stuff because it felt right, Dana." He begins to pace left and right while rubbing his forehead with his hand.

  "I'm not buying this." I say shallowly.

  My response snaps Dean from his constant pacing. "What can I do to make you believe that there is truth to my words?!" He yells, with a sorrow expression on his face.

  "Nothing." I tell him.

  "I CARE FOR YOU DANA!" He roars. "I really fucking do! I would not have bought you that necklace on the last day of the job if I didn't. I would not have come here to explain my side of the story today, risking my freedom, if I didn't care for you. Yes, I've fucked up! Yes, perhaps this is karma paying me a visit! But, it doesn't stop me from telling the truth." He exerts, leaving both of us breathless.

  I sense tears forming around my eyes as my nostrils flare up in sadness.

  "How do you expect me to believe you?" I sob, struggling to compose the gun.

  "Because we come from similar backgrounds. We only have our siblings, we have no parents --"

  "What the fuck? Why are you lying again to me?! You do have parents! You said on our first dinner that you don't speak to your mom or dad no more." I interrupt him, now feeling revved up with rage over yet another lie.

  Dean steps backwards, and stares at me lifelessly with eyes ridiculed with sadness. "No, Dana... They're dead. I killed them."

  Chapter 3

  The weakness in my legs make me want to sit down as I consume what Dean has just said. My hands are trembling, so is my chin. I struggle to keep aim of the gun at him, so I lower it slightly, pointing to his chest cavity. He killed his parents? I'm in a room with a murderer. A sudden shiver shoots across my spine, causing goose bumps to flourish all over my body.

  "Wha-what d'you mean you killed them?" I whimper with a clenching jaw.

  He slowly treads past me and sits on the bottom stair, dropping his head. My arms embrace a moment of relief as I no longer need to fight gravity with the gun now that he has sat down. I reposition myself as he tilts his head upwards, toward me.

  "I was just nine years old." He now stares endlessly at the wall to my left.

  "I still rememb
er it like it was yesterday. The 7th September, 1998. The day I lost my innocence, and care for others." He cups his mouth with his hand.

  The depressive atmosphere forces me to speak. "What do you mean you lost your innocence? You killed your parents, Dean! Your innocence was gone the moment you thought of carrying out such a horrific crime."

  He glances up at me with watery eyes as his shoulders curl over his chest. "I was forced to watch them die, and..." He suddenly sinks his head in-between his legs and lets out a wailing cry.

  My chest aches for him, despite my lack of understanding with what he is trying to say.

  "And what, Dean?" I ask subtly, now lowering the gun down completely.

  He takes in three deep, cathartic breaths and looks back at me again. His face is puffy, his eyes bloodshot, he seems so distant and alone. "And... my dad said that I caused all this. He said that if I wasn't alive then he and my momma would still be fine, and happy. And just like that, he shot himself right in front of me, after killing my momma. I was to blame, I killed them, Dana." He lets out an aching cry while attempting to wipe his nose with his hand.

  I take in a gasp, and drop the gun to the floor. "Oh, Dean." I try to empathize with him despite my croaky voice.

  He continues to weep in a stooped posture, which instinctively makes me run over to the bottom stair to console him. I wrap my right arm around his broad shoulders as I weep with him. All the wrongs he's done to me are put to one side as I try to relieve him of the dark memory that has burdened him his whole life. Dean continues to cry into his hands.

  "Where was Steve when this happened?"

  "He stayed at his friends that weekend." He replies softly.

  "I'm so sorry you've had to go through such a thing." I sob with him.

  He lifts his head and stares at me with an emptiness I have never seen in his eyes.

  "Don't be sorry. I'm sorry for telling you, it's not fair." He presses his lips together.

  "Don't you ever apologize to me again about this! It wasn't your fault, nor should you beat yourself up about it for the rest of your life!" I mother him with a raised voice.

  "I don't even know what I did wrong, Dana. I loved them both so much, and that's all I ever showed them." He says with a flat, monotone voice.

  My heart begins to ache over the pain-stricken words he is saying. I grab his chin and force him to look at me. "You didn't do anything wrong, Dean. Your dad simply used you as a scape-goat for his horrific actions, too cowardly to accept it was his own fault. Now you're carrying a burden that no-one should ever have to carry in their lives." I stare deeply into his eyes.

  He takes in a deep breath, and exhales. "I know it wasn't my fault, but to have witnessed both your parents die, and the last words to have been "it was your fault", makes it hard to forget." He sighs for a moment before continuing.

  "That's why I got into this business with Steve. Before my parent's deaths, I used to be caring and be emotionally invested in people, but after they died, I was too scared to care for people again, just in case they did something horrible to themselves or others. I can't take that kind of guilt again." He pauses to catch a breath. "This may sound cold but, it felt good not to care for people." He turns to face me. "But then I met you."

  A quiver of emotions shoot through me as I am overpowered by the things Dean is saying.

  "I was too scared to have feelings for you, but I took the plunge anyway, because it felt too right. But now look at what I've done to you. It seems I cannot do anything in life without hurting someone else." He adds.

  I face away from him, trying to process everything that is going on, but, instead I find myself shaking my head whilst biting my bottom lip.

  "I so desperately want to like you, Dean, and I am so sad that you had such a horrific upbringing, but everything that you have done to me is just too much to handle right now. I've lost all trust in you. I don't know what the truth is anymore." I respond with an element of sorrow.

  "I don't expect you to trust me, Dana. Hell, I don't even trust myself no-more." He pauses to look at me. "But there is one thing I do trust, and that is the fact that I truly like you a lot. You made me feel whole again. I just hope you can find it within you to believe me on this one." He pleads with honesty in his eyes.

  I take in a deep breath and reply with a teary voice. "I don't know, Dean. This is all too much. I would like to believe that there was some truth in what we had, but --"

  "But what?" He clinches my hand in hope.

  "But, I don't know what to believe. At first, I thought you was a good guy, but things progressively got worse and worse after that text I read on your phone. Now you're a wanted man, who has everyone after you. Is there any point in me trying to believe you?" I ask.

  "Yes there is, Dana! We had -- have -- something special here! I get what you are feeling right now, but please let me show you that I mean what I say."

  I stare at him with my mouth half open in confusion. "How can you show me? You're going to prison, Dean."

  He gazes at me, causing a few moments of a silence to come between us. "Let's run away, today."

  I gasp for air over his insane proposal, which in turn makes me stand up off the stair to glare down at him. "Are you out of your mind? There is no way I'm going to leave with you. I'm not going to prison for you!" I yell.

  He stands up off the stair also, and steps closer towards me. "I can't go to prison. They will throw away the key. I have no-one left, but you, who I know 'gets me'."

  "What do you mean by that?" I ask with crossing eyebrows.

  "We both know what it's like to be alone. We know what it's like to have no parents, and we both share the same outlook on life. The one thing we have that is worth so much, is each other. If I was to go to prison now, I've left you damaged, forever. I know how much it took for you to trust me, and being the dick that I am, I've ruined it. You will struggle to trust another man again, and that's why at least, I want to prove to you that the trust you invested in me hasn't all gone up in smoke. I know I can do this, I just need you to use that last ounce of trust you have within you to make the craziest leap of your life." He pleads with a croaky voice.

  I shake my head slowly at him, whispering "I can't, I can't".

  "I've got a stash of money near my hometown that will keep us protected and safe for a good while. Dana, what have we got other than each other? Even our own siblings don't give a shit about us! We have no real friends, no other family, no jobs, nothing." He states with a slack expression on his face.

  I slap him around the face. "How dare you! I might not have many friends, but I'm happy with what I've got. I also have a future free of crime. You're just scared to go to prison, face it. Your crimes have finally caught up with you!"

  He looks at me with disappointment. "You're right."

  I switch my focus between him and the gun on the floor. "Leave it, Dana. I'm not going to harm you." Dean says, noticing my intent.

  "Look. I've caused enough damage to you. I'm sorry for everything I've done, Dana, I truly am. I hope one day that you can forgive me for what I have done, and to know that we really did have something. It was one heck of a ride, that's for sure." He breaks out a small, but tame laugh.

  "Can I give you one last hug, before I go?" He asks with watery eyes and pressing lips as he extends his arms out for a hug.

  A lump suddenly forms in my throat that causes my eyes to water. I sense all my resentment and hatred wash away. I want him to go, but at the same time I don't. My heart feels torn, and my head seems fuzzy. I step towards him and give him a hug. As we embrace, no words are spoken, and no tears are shed. Only silence and a firm coil from our arms is present.

  I peel off from him slowly, and gaze up at his frightened brown eyes. "Why did you get into this business, Dean?" I whisper, desperately wishing he never had to leave because of his crimes.

  He struggles to keep eye contact as his chin trembles. "Because, I had nobody else to care for me, but my brother."
r />   I sense tears beginning to flow from my eyes, as all I see is a timid young boy trying to seek solace. I immediately tend to him. "Dean, if only we met under genuine circumstances..." I hug him once more.

  "I know, I know. Maybe in another life, eh?" He muffles on my shoulder.

  I give him one last tight squeeze before letting go of him. I don't feel like a victim no more, he's the true victim here. He was just a lost boy who only wanted unconditional love, but that was brutally snatched away from him at a tender age. The allure of being with his only sibling was too good of an opportunity to miss, despite the situation it has now put him in.

  "Before I go, how did you even find out about this whole situation with me?" He asks with a flat tone of voice.

  "My sister is a detective. I told you about her a couple of times." I respond softly.

  "She told you?" He asks.

  "No. She hasn't told me anything. All her files on you and Steve were left in her room, upstairs." I mutter.

  "Do you mind if I take a quick look before I go? They might know about my stash of money." He asks.

  I nod my head in agreement. "Yeah sure, follow me." I respond flatly, as I proceed to pick up the gun from the floor and walk up the stairs to Jess's room.

  "It's all here." I wave my arm, to highlight all the files and folders in Jess's room.

  "Thanks." He says quietly as he gets right to work with the documents.

  I place both hands on my head as I think to myself that I shouldn't be letting him do this. But at the same time, he's pretty much doomed. A growing part of me hopes he manages to get away, as I hate the thought of his brother getting away with a light sentence at the expense of Dean.

  "Is this the testimony?" Dean asks while fixating on the sheet of paper.

  "Yeah." I validate.

  "Son of a bitch." He mutters under his own breath.