Plus, practice had run long so he less than an half an hour until Wade was supposed to be there for their date. A date in which Trey wasn’t sure he should go on. While it would be great to go out to dinner with someone for once, Trey didn’t want to lead Wade on by letting him think there could actually be something between them. Trey hadn’t been shooting smoke from his ass earlier when he told Wade he wasn’t capable of having a real relationship. Trey realized that he had the emotional capacity of a kitten playing with a ball of yarn. Plus there was that whole Wade-being-a-cop issue, too. While Saul and Amy had been able to overlook what Chad and Devon did to protect the family, Trey knew Wade would feel duty bound to report them.
Still, it’s not like Devon and Chad did anything that bad. A little hopeful voice argued in his head. All they did was clean up some blood and wipe Mom’s fingerprints off the gun. It was Mom who did all the actual lying and it’s not like they can hold her accountable anymore. The cancer already took care of that.
Then he thought about all his brothers had to lose if Trey were wrong and he realized that he couldn’t risk their happiness just so he could have a boyfriend. No, it would be better for all of them if Trey just walked away from the situation. When Wade came to pick him up, Trey would just say he had a headache or something. With the amount of pucks he took to the helmet, it wouldn’t exactly be a lie. He didn’t relish having to do it at the last minute, but Trey didn’t have Wade’s number and there was no way he could ask Amy for it.
He rounded the corner to his floor and let out a loud curse when he saw his Goldie-Locks-wannabe bum lying in a heap by the door. Just flipping what he needed, yet another thing to go wrong with his day. The last time the man had decided to crash at his place, it’d taken Trey nearly an hour to get the man to leave.
Trey went up to the pile of man, dirty clothes and grime and used the toe of his shoe to give the man a gentle nudge in the ribs. “Come on, Lenny, you need to get up so I can go inside. And before you even ask, I’m not spooning you tonight or any other night for that matter.”
The body groaned, then turned around to reveal his oldest brother, Brock. Or at least Trey thought it was him. While some of the features looked slightly familiar, just as many were off. Normally Brock had the same golden hair as Trey, now it looked as if it hadn’t been washed in months. It hung around his sallow face, the blond coloring so dark from grease and dirt that it had a brownish appearance to it. Brock’s blue eyes were nearly unrecognizable because they were so bloodshot and puffy. At one time, Brock stood as tall as Devon and was more muscular than Chad. Now he seemed painfully thin and small, as if he’d sunk into himself. Numerous pits and sores covered his face and most of his teeth were missing.
“Oh, my God,” Trey whispered, his hand going to his mouth in shock.
Brock sprang to his feet and wrapped Trey into a tight hug. As Trey forced himself to return it, he repressed a gag at the foul stench wafting up from his brother. If Trey had to put a word to the smell, it would have to be sick. Almost as if an infection or something had settled into Brock’s bloodstream and was oozing through his pores.
“How’s my favorite little brother?” Brock asked, his voice overly happy.
“When did you get here?” Trey asked, wondering how long Brock had been using his doorstep as a bed.
“A few hours ago. I would have called, but I don’t have your number.”
With good reason, too. After one too many drunk dials, Trey had switched his number and refused to give the new one to Brock. Unfortunately, Trey hadn’t had the money to switch addresses so easily.
“I didn’t think you’d remember my address,” Trey admitted.
“I saved one of the envelopes when you mailed me some cash.” Brock reached down and grabbed a battered backpack.
Damn, if Devon or Chad found out about this, it would really hit the fan. While they’d also sent Brock cash from time-to-time, they’d never done it to the extent that Trey had. What’s more, they often accused Trey of enabling Brock.
Trey wanted to kick himself for not thinking ahead to use a post office box or something. “So what brings you here today? If you need some money, I have a little inside. I won’t have more until next payday though.”
“Can’t your big brother just stop by to pay you a visit?”
Ahâ¦no, not if their name was Brock. Trey felt his heart drop as he eyed up Brock and then his backpack.
“What do they want you for?” Trey demanded, his throat going dry.
The smile faded from Brock’s face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Anger burned through Trey’s chest. Did Brock really think he was that dumb?
“The cops. Why are they looking for you?” Trey asked, his words hard and brittle even to his own ears.
“Now why would you think I’m on the run?”
“What other reason would you come here for? If you needed money, you could have easily sent me an email.” More than once Brock managed to wander into a public library long enough use their computer.
Brock’s face pulled into a woe-is-me frown and Trey nearly groaned in response. That expression always proceeded a long string of excuse after excuse as Brock explained away his behavior. By the end of his spiel, he’d have pointed out twenty different reasons why his last fuck-up was everyone’s fault but his own.
“It’s that fucking Robbie Venson. He gets me into trouble every time,” Brock started, not disappointing.
“Hmmm⦔ Trey nodded. “I thought he was doing twenty in Jackson for armed robbery.”
“No, that was his brother, Tommy. Don’t you ever listen to anything I tell you?” Brock admonished, then nodded to the closed door. “Can we not talk about this out here? I don’t want to broadcast all my problems to your neighbors.”
“No, you just pass out in a drug-induced coma in front of them” Trey sighed as he pulled out his keys.
Trey worked the flimsy lock on his door and opened it, gesturing Brock inside.
As he stepped inside, Brock let out a low whistle. “Wow, this place sucks.”
“Thanks,” Trey replied tightly, passing a glance over his shoebox-sized apartment.
“I guess the Hawks don’t pay as much as the NHL did.” Brock shook his head. “I still can’t believe you fucked that gig up so bad. If my knee hadn’t given out and I made the big time, you can sure as hell bet I would have held on to it. I wouldn’t have let my game drop out from under me like you, Chad and Devon did.”
“Yeah, we sure did blow that one.” Trey angrily tossed his keys on the counter, the metal making a loud skwishing sound. It was either that or give into his urge to throw them at his jerk of a brother.
Of course, Brock wasn’t finished. “I mean, come on. Even a stoner like me knew that you could only get into so many fights, cause so many scandals and play that crappy before they gave you the boot.”
Brock flicked a finger over Trey’s sagging sofa before continuing. “The saddest part is you didn’t even have the smarts to hold onto that signing bonus they gave you.”
“You didn’t seem to mind when I was funneling some of that cash your way,” Trey defended. The worst part of it was, he knew most of that money had gone up Brock’s nose or into his veins.
“But you spent most of it on Mom’s medical bills and that was the biggest waste of all.”
A tight band of fury and hurt wound its way around Trey’s chest. “Why would you even say that?”
“Because she ended up dying anyway. All those fancy treatments and medicines didn’t make the cancer go away. It would have been better if you’d just let her die right away. At least then you would have been able to afford a better place than this.”
“I’m doing okay,” Trey defended even as the sounds of police sirens rushing by declared just how crappy his neighborhood was.
The smirk on Brock’s face said he didn’t believe it for one moment. “But not nearly as well as he wanted you to do.”
Tr
ey actually took a step back that comment hurt so bad. “I did better than you.”
As soon as the words left his pie hole, Trey wanted them back. Moving way too fast for someone half wasted to death, Brock rushed forward. He grabbed Trey by the front of the shirt and slammed him against a wall. All the air wooshed from his lungs as pain shot up his spine.
Had it been another guy on the ice, had it been Devon, had it been Chad, Trey would have fought back. No, he would have cleaned their clocks without so much as a flinch. But it wasn’t any of them, it was Brock and, out of everybody in the world, Brock reminded Trey of their Dad the most. So when Brock invaded his personal space, Trey found himself ripped back to that night five years ago.
He felt the same fear, pain and humiliation course through his body. A cold sweat covered him from head to toe and he began to tremble like the wimp his father so often accused him of being.
“You know all this is your fault,” Brock seethed, his face inches from Trey’s face. “If you hadn’t of gotten careless, your ex-boyfriend would have never blabbed to the papers that you were gay. Then Devon wouldn’t have come out either. We both know the only reason he did that was too deflect some of the heat you were facing his way.”
“I’m sorry,” Trey whispered, his gaze locked on Brock’s free hand which had formed into a fist.
“Dad’s death and all the crap that came after it lies on you, buddy. Once the NHL found out that you and Devon were gay, they were just looking for a reason to get rid of you. If you’d just managed to keep your dick in your pants, then you all would still be making great money.”
Which would mean I could be sending you a lot more cash for your dope habit. Trey didn’t dare make that accusation aloud, however, not if he wanted to keep his perfect smile. As a rule, most goaltenders had all their teeth, thanks to the heavy face cages they wore, and Trey wasn’t going to buck the trend by losing some choppers to Brock’s fists.
“I’m sorry,” Trey repeated, this time a bit louder. For a brief, heart-pounding moment, Trey didn’t think he got through, then Brock let out a ragged sob before he pushed away.
“I’m sorry, T, I’m just messed up in the head right now.”
T—Brock hadn’t used that nickname since Trey had been ten. The fact he reverted to it showed how much his apology was genuine. Trey reached out and put a hesitant hand on his brother’s shoulder.
“I know you didn’t mean it. You may want to watch it though. If you’d tried the same thing with the one of the twins, they would have fought back,” Trey soothed.
Brock gave a bitter chuckle. “You always have to try to play peacemaker. That’s one of the reasons Dad beat you the most. Because you had a soft spot that he could never begin to understand.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Normally it’s not. But sometimes you let people walk all over you.”
“Maybe,” Trey conceded as he thought back to his fight with Devon and how easily he’d agreed to never see Wade again.
Trey took a deep breath, then asked, “Are you going to tell me what kind of trouble you’re in? It has to be pretty bad for you to run all the way to Battle Creek to hide out from it.”
Brock went over to the couch and flopped down on it. “The cops are trying to pin an armed robbery charge on me.”
Shock and a bit of disappointment hit Trey both at once. He forced himself to keep his expression neutral as he pressed, “Did you do it?”
Trey had his answer when that damn poor-me look flashed over Brock’s face again. “I was with fucking Robbie and he just up and pulled a gun out.”
“Yeah, because I know all my buddies walk with loaded weapons. It’s all the fashion this season,” Trey deadpanned.
Brock ignored him. “Before I could stop Robbie, he holds the gun to the gas station attendant’s head and demands all the money in the register.”
“Did you try just telling him to put the fucking gun down or you’d call 911?” Trey cocked a brow.
“So the cops could come and try to blame me for it?” Brock made a big show of rolling his eyes. “Which they ended up doing anyway. I tell you, the Burton cops all have it in for me.”
“Maybe it’s because you have a nasty habit of stealing their patrol cars and crashing them.”
Brock held up one finger. “I did that onceâ¦okay, maybe it was twice. But because of that, they changed their policy and procedures as far as vehicle security goes. Since then, they haven’t lost another car. So they should be thanking me if anything.”
Trey pinched the bridge of his nose as he let out a sigh. “You’re right. They should give you the key to the city. Or at the very least, one of those badge shaped stickers that say Future Deputy on them. What are they thinking?”
And speaking of cops, damn if there wasn’t a knock on the door. As if fate were having some kind of sadistic, fucked-up har, har, har! at Trey’s expense.
“Damn, what time is it?” He looked frantically around for a clock, only to realize the one on the stove had quit working and the only other one he had was in the bedroom. Slipping his cell from his pocket, he cursed again when he noted it was six.
“Well, at least he’s punctual,” Trey muttered.
“Who?”
“My date.” Trey put his phone back in his jeans and ran a hand through his hair.
Brock’s face brightened. “Well, let him in so you can introduce us.”
“That would be a very, very, very bad idea.”
“Why, are you ashamed of me?”
Every day of my life. Since Trey would rather cut out his tongue than gift Brock with that nugget of truth, instead he said, “No, he’s a cop.”
“As in the fuzz.”
“The po-po.”
“The man.”
“The five-O.”
“Gumshoe.” Brock smirked. “The Heat, The Good Guys, Bobbies, Donut Patrol.”
Trey threw his hands up. “Okay, I don’t think I can top that. But I have to figure out a way to get rid of him before he figures out I’m harboring a fugitive.”
Brock shrugged. “Just go out with him. Have some fun.”
“And what am I supposed to do with you?”
“I’ll just take a shower and crash for the rest of the night. I’m starting to come down from this high so I’ll be out for a while.”
There was another knock. Trey bit his bottom lip in indecision. “But what if you need me or something?”
“I’ve made it this far without you. I can manage.”
“I don’t know,” Trey hedged, his gaze going from the door to Brock.
Brock pointed at his own chest. “Big brother.” He thumped the same finger into Trey’s arm. “Little brother.”
“And your point is?”
“It’s my job to look out after you, not the other way around. As your older and wiser sibling, I’m ordering you to go out and have a great time.”
God it was so tempting. While Trey did love Brock, the last thing he wanted was to have to sit around all night and listen to his drama. Plus, it would be so nice to pretend to be normal for once, to actually get to know another guy instead of just fucking his brains out and then walking away before the cum stains had even dried on the sheets.
“You sure you don’t mind?”
Brock gave him a shove toward the door. “Go. I’ll be here when you get back.”
Oh, yay! It would appear Brock was settling in for a while.
“Just do me a favor,” Brock requested as Trey gathered up his keys.
“What?” Trey asked warily.
“Just promise you won’t tell Chad or Devon I’m here. I don’t need to deal with their holier-than-thou attitude.”
Trey readily nodded to that because he didn’t feel like listening to another lecture about how they needed to give Brock the whole tough-love treatment. He rushed to the door. Since he’d never bothered to take off his shoes or coat when he first got there, he was all ready to go out.
“Hey,” he said as he opened the door just enough for him to slide out his body.
As he shut it behind him, he winced at the raised-brow confused expression on Wade’s face. It was only then Trey remembered he was supposed to wear something nice. Looking down, he felt a twinge of dismay as he saw his usual jeans and t-shirt ensemble.
“Sorry, I guess I should have dressed up more,” he apologized. Wade gave him a smile so soft and tender it did strange things to Trey’s insides.
“You look perfect.”
Reaching down, he grabbed Trey’s hand and gave it a gentle tug. “Let’s go. I have a feeling you’re going to love this.”
Chapter Six
“Where are we going?” Trey asked as he peered out the passenger window of Wade’s car.
Wade smiled. That had to have been the tenth time Trey asked that question during the short drive, yet it still had that same adorable, curious lilt to it. Almost as if it were a totally new experience to have somebody treat him to a surprise.
“Do you always get this worked up over getting the special treatment? As a kid, you must have been a handful on your birthday,” Wade teased.
Trey shrugged. “Not really, we never got into birthdays in my family.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. With mine, I guess it was probably because it always was at the same time as playoffs so we were too busy.”
“Even when you were a kid?” Wade asked. He couldn’t even imagine parents not celebrating their children’s birthday. When he was young, his mother used to go all out, even going so far as to have special themes and cakes.
“Yeah, I played hockey since I could walk,” Trey replied simply.
“Did you ever participate in any other school activities or anything?”
Trey shot him an are-you-kidding look. “No, that wasn’t allowed. Dad didn’t want anything to distract from hockey. We played even during the summer.”
“Wow, did you ever get tired of it?” Wade thought about all the times as a kid he’d changed his mind as to what sport, instrument or activity he wanted to do. One summer alone, he went from tennis to golf before finally settling on baseball.
Between the Pipes Page 5
