ILLICIT DESIRES | 18 +

24: Handling Problems and A Drunk Temptation

ROMAN

Family is the person you can rely on in your ups and downs.

In my souped-up grief, I rely on my brother — a bastard, just like me. Somehow, he's the only comfort I can find when I hit rock bottom. 

Sad, I know.

We meet in the middle of nowhere — far from prying eyes. He gets out of his car, his gaze soft. He pats me on the shoulder, trying to offer comfort.

"How are you?" he asks in a measured voice, careful not to say the wrong thing. 

My eyes, however, are fixed on his trunk — big enough big enough to fit the little problem I've brought along. Grief makes for such a convenient excuse to hand over my issue in my trunk.

"I lost my girlfriend. And maybe I lost my child too," I say, shifting my gaze from the car to him. His expression softens, pity settling in. 

I know then he's going to handle my problem.

"Don't worry. I'm already handling the body and making sure no one tampers with the results," he says firmly, nodding as if it's just another errand on his to-do list.

I sigh, a long exhale carrying the weight of everything. "I need you to take care of another body."

His brows furrow. "Another body?"

"Another body," I confirm emotionlessly, walking close behind him to the trunk. I open it, revealing the corpse.

"What the hell, Roman..." he mutters, grabbing the edge of the trunk and pushing it open further. He stares at it, taking in her naked, lifeless body. "Who is this?"

"Another bitch," I hum, before I glance sideways at him and catch the exasperation in his eyes. "Don't worry, she's not pregnant."

"What the hell happened? How did she die?" he asks with a sigh, already looking like he regrets asking.

"She had a gun fetish... and accidentally got shot in the wrong place," I say with an embarrassed smile, hoping it doesn't sound completely unbelievable.

"In the wrong place?" His voice hisses, sharp with sarcasm. "Where exactly is the right place? Her pussy? Her mouth? What the hell are you into?"

"Leave me alone, okay?" I huff, pretending offense as I pull out my sympathy card. "I might have just lost my baby. I just wanted a little fun to forget the pain..."

"It's okay, I'm sorry," he sighs, rubbing his temples with his eyes closed. He probably thinks I'm some kind of pervert with some weird fetishes. 

I sigh. 

Such a great reputation I've built.

"Could you please dispose of her body for me?" I murmur. His eyes meet mine, and for a moment we hold each other's gaze. "I haven't been myself since Margarita died... if I handle this, I'll mess everything up and get caught."

"Fine, I'll get rid of the body," he says with a small nod, and my lips curl into a smug smile. 

I knew he would. 

"But this is the first and last time," he warns.

"You're the best brother in the world," I reply, pulling him into a hug with a sigh. I pat him on the back as he groans. This probably wasn't how he'd envisioned his day — disposing of a body for me.

"Be careful. I accidentally threw her into a patch of nettles."

"I'm not even going to ask," he murmurs, carefully lifting the body and loading it into his trunk.