Burn Out *18+*

Chapter 25

When I parked my Camry, I couldn't help but sneer. Of course, Calvin would live here. If he was spending all of his money on various drugs, he couldn't afford proper housing. Dingy rowhouses lined the streets, accompanied by cars that were older than I was. A dog was barking somewhere, a child screaming from within one of the houses, a siren wailed nearby. No wonder he had threatened Dex, no one would want to live like this when they knew their brother was raking in cash, or at least sitting comfortably in his career and within his hobbies.

I could almost hear Dexter lecturing me about coming here by myself. Many people had this illusion that Canada was a safe, peaceful place. The reality was that every country, every city, had dark corners where crime and devious behavior festered. And this place was definitely an inky spot on Calgary's reputation.

Still, I was no little girl and, in this life, I was going to face a lot more evil than a couple druggies could offer. I shut off my car and stomped up to the appropriate door as if I owned the place. After rapping out three hard knocks, I braced myself for what would be on the other side. The last time I had seen Calvin, he had been red-faced and crying at his mother's funeral. Losing a parent was no easy burden and one couldn't blame a child for trying to escape the pain. But one would have to blame an adult for their actions. He was not that sobbing kid anymore.

The puffy cheeks would be replaced with slurred speech and the inability to move his body as if it were truly his own. He could be moody and volatile, or sleepy and disengaged. Would he be a shell of the man he was supposed to be?

The door creaked open. My shoulders rolled back; a copy of the blurry letter clenched in one hand.

Clear brown eyes stared back at me, widening in surprise.

I had to blink a few times before I was able to trust my eyes.

This was Calvin. This was Calvin? The whole speech I had planned out died on my lips. All of the accusations and condemning facts dried up in the back of my throat because this no longer made sense. At least, it didn't make sense in the way I expected.

"London?" Calvin said, while I stood there mutely.

It jarred me back into reality, back to the doorstep where I stood. "Hi."

"Uh, what are you doing here?"

Well, I had been coming to accuse him of a dozen things, but seeing filled out shoulders, a full set of teeth, and clear eyes, I suddenly wasn't so sure.

"Can I come in?" This couldn't be a dead end. There was no way. I would find something damning. Even the cleanest, most buttoned up people could succumb to the powers of drugs and addiction. Just because he looked half decent didn't mean that he was walking away from this.

"Uh, sure." He gave his head a little shake. "I mean, yes. Sorry, I'm a little surprised to see you here is all."

I gave him a smile I hoped looked genuine and squeezed my way past him. He had verbally invited me in, so it didn't technically matter for legal reasons that he was using his body to keep me out. Before he could even get a word in, I kicked off my shoes and began prowling through the home that an optimistic realtor would call "quaint and convenient."

"Uh, is Dexter with you? Should we wait for him?" Calvin hinted.

"No, I came alone," I stated. I felt like I was blatantly examining the room now, not even trying to be discrete. Nothing convicting on the limited counter space. No little baggies on the damaged kitchen table. The living room was too sparse to hide anything.

"Oh, alright. Is everything okay?"

I finally turned to face him and I watched as his eyes locked onto my hand. Yes, I got him. "Looking for something?" I taunted. Of course, he was. He saw the paper in my grip and he knew, he knew he was done for. How could he possibly think that he was going to get away with doing this to his own brother?