Shot in the dark

chapter 7

Middle child

“Where have you been? It never takes this long for a simple mission!” My father demanded. I had Preston on my shoulder and slid the paper over to my father. 

“I got The names, dates, and places. He was and is still being tortured. Preston had a hard time with it” I explained walking into the estate.

“You left him with someone else?” He asked astounded in the worst way.

I laughed at his remark and shook my head.

“No. He’s by himself. Let’s hope for his sake the batteries suck.” I said. My father didn’t question me after that.

 I felt Preston shift so I lay him on the sofa we were by. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

“For what?” I ask, kneeling on his knees. He sat up and looked at me.

“I’m sorry for making you feel like that.” 

“What do you mean?” He sighed in a shaky breath,

“You saw the thing under my bed right? I’m the one you love?” I couldn’t move at all. It’s like I've been stunned by a cone snail. I can only wait for him to blow the final punch.

“It wasn’t meant to be seen by anyone. I hold it there for my father.” 

“You're still hiding behind daddy.” I say with my head hung low. He grabs my chin pulling me to him.

“Point being, I don’t want to kill you.” He stated with his breath fanning my lips. I yank my head out of his grip and stand.

“When did you figure it out?” I asked.

“On our first night together.” that soon? God he is smart.

“How?” I ask demanding answers.

“You were more drunk than I was. You said it over and over again. Before we fucked, while we fucked and you passed out and said it. And in your sleep you muttered it.” He said in a low unstable voice.

I scoff and walk out the door. No one is in sight so I bolt outside. Only the grass to hear my sobs. I really shouldn’t be crying as much as I have been. Sometimes the sinking feeling is too much for me to hold inside. The cigarette is lit and hanging off my lip. I puff out smoke and pick at the grass. My head is laying on a rock and 

I watch the clouds form together. A drop lands on my forehead. Then on my cheek. The sky is crying my troubles away for me. Aren’t I so lucky? If someone were to ask what's wrong, what will I say? I’m not mad. I’m not mad at him to be more precise. I’m mad at myself? Yeah. That's more accurate. It’s not like I blabbed out my biggest secret to the one it was about. It’s not like I spent years dreaming about how to tell him. I guess it was enough to drink the entire shelf of alcohol. I hear someone lay beside me. I look over and it’s my brother. 

“What happened with preston?” He asked. He knew. He knew the entire time and he was the one who listened to my troubles with him and watched me be in love with him for years. 

“Nothing.” I barely got that word out.

“Then why is he squealing in your bed like a little girl?” I could imagine that. It’s cute.

“What do you mean?” He turned to look at me and I turned to him too, throwing my cigarette out on the sidewalk.

“I came in to ask you something and saw him rolling on your bed while hugging your pillow. He said he made improvements but I have no idea what he’s talking about so I asked you.” I sighed heavily before I told him.