A Hazel Haven

Interlude VI

Interlude VI

GRoaning awake, Ryan grimaced at the glaring sunlight, cursing as he turned onto his side. The headache came, strong and merciless. Fuck. His jaw sang with pain.

"It's a bitch, isn't it?" Lawrence snapped the book he was reading shut, stowed it away in a drawer before approaching the bed, tugging his contrast T-shirt over black pants. He sat beside Ryan, pushing him to lie supine, and pried his lids open to assess his pupils despite crude protests. They were mildly dilated.

Smacking Lawrence's hand off, Ryan sat up, wriggling his jaw. "What the hell did you do to me?"

"He did what had to be done. That's part of his job description, isn't it, to keep you in check?" Observing his brother closely, Lawrence peered, said. "You don't remember what happened?" Ryan blinked dazed eyes, hissing, and that was answer enough. "You tried to strangle.....her. She came by yesterday to plead with you again. You didn't succeed. "

By 'her', his bother meant Vanessa. Ryan recalled the blow promptly, delivered right when he would have snuffed out her life. Anthony hadn't held back. The full force of all that weight impacted on his face. Damn it. Lethargically, he crept out from under the sheets and lumbered toward the mirror, ignoring Lawrence's presence. Inspecting for injuries, Ryan attempted a scowl but the pounding in his head protested. In just a week, his assets had received multiple assaults. He winced, groaned.

"Take one of that when you're ready," Lawrence told him. There was a pack of drug on the nightstand, a glass of water beside it. Ryan merely grunted, stifling another yawn as he trudged to the bathroom. A few minutes later he came out, toweling his hair dry. By then, Lawrence was sitting forward on one of the plush couches, elbows on splayed knees, face pensive.

The room was quiet. Too quiet. He glanced at Jidenna's crib.

"He's in my room," Lawrence mollified before his brother could erupt. "Rita has him."

Ryan said nothing, placing the towel on his neck. These days not many words passed between them, so in the silence that ensued, he downed the tablet while Lawrence observed him. Ryan could feel those eyes, hear those questions, but he wouldn't acknowledge either of them. Instead, he pulled back his chair, sat, and delved into work, squinting at the screen; he reached for a cigarette, stuck it between his lips.

About using the lighter, Lawrence plucked out the stick. "There will be none of that  today. You've had enough."

Wow, Ryan thought, stunned but not showing. Could it be that his brother had lost his fear of him? He was on his feet in a flash, standing toe to toe with Lawrence. His brother didn't cringe away, staring him down with dark eyes that had wavered before becoming steely. The eyes never lie. Intensely, silently, they confronted each other. Then Ryan grinned—he could do so now. The pain in his head and jaw was almost nonexistent.

"Of course," he clapped his brother's arm once, surprising him. "Whatever you say, sir." He sat back down and resumed typing. One of his online Caucasian girlfriends had just transferred a substantial sum to his bank account. He smiled when his phone chimed wherever it was. The alert.

I've seen the alert, love. You just saved my mother's life.

"Sweet," Ryan murmured, focused on the screen. "Good news, Nedu. I nailed this rich bitch from Texas two weeks ago, and now, we are thirty thousand dollars richer."

Lawrence relaxed. He had been expecting some form of retaliation. Apparently, his brother didn't fancy the idea today. As much as he'd have loved to walk out that instant, certain things mattered more.

"When did you start using? You told me you'd never indulge the product."

Ryan only continued typing, humming to himself.