Charade

Ashley

I greeted Benny with a hug and a punch in the arm.

"Why the fuck would you run into a burning building?! Are you trying to kill me?!"

Benny smiled with tired eyes and his right arm in a sling.

"How bad?" I asked, looking at the bandages.

"Second degree burns. Should be good in a month or so." He said.

We walked across the car park, the clouds grey overhead.

"Get in," I said when we got to the car. "We have a lot of drinking to catch up on."

***

I poured myself a drink as Benny lied down on the couch, flipping through the channels, with a glass of scotch in one hand and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

"So why'd you really run into a burning building?" I asked as the sun sunk below the horizon.

"Boredom," he replied, reading through the TV guide.

"No, seriously, why'd you do it? Did you think Vic was in there or something?"

"No, something else. Don't worry about it."

"You could've died," I said.

"Are you mad at me or something? Because you know I would do the same thing if it was you up there, burning alive."

"No, I'm not... I'm not mad at you,"

"Good, because I really don't want to fight with you right now. What's done is done."

I sighed. I was so tired of fighting with my brother, and most of our fights were about the same thing. See, it takes a long, long time for me to love someone enough to trust them with anything, but with Benny, the first act of kindness was always enough. What Benny never understood was that even serial killers can walk old ladies across the street.

I walked over and ruffled his hair, then kissed his head.

"I'm sorry, Benny."

He looked up at me, upside down.

"Me, too." He said. "Love you."

"You too, shit head. Now I'm going to bed. No setting the house on fire."

"Very funny," he said sarcastically.

"Too soon?"

He lifted his bandaged arm.

"Just because you hurt your arm, doesn't mean your sense of humour has to die."

"Go fuck yourself."

"Goodnight." I smiled.

I stepped into my room and fell onto the bed, face first, my nose squished against the pillow. Fatigue set in, making my eyes droop and my brain run at snail speed. I groaned.

I dragged my body to the wardrobe, feeling the prickle of goose-bumps rise over my arms and legs. Everything was quiet, dark, and filled with cool night air – the highlights of staying in the suburbs. But then that all changed.

I flicked on the yellow-tinted light and it filled the wardrobe instantly. This was my girlfriend's wardrobe, but she'd allocated me my own space for the time in which I was staying there. I pulled open a drawer and grabbed a daggy shirt, then turned around to slip out of my jeans and tank and into the holey, stained cloth.

I turned around and spotted saw the yellow light illuminating a pair of narrowed blue eyes, watching me from under the bed.

And then chaos.

A piercing scream filled the room and made it burst at the seams. The man, nothing but blackness and eyes, scurried out from under the bed and ran at me. I stepped back into the wardrobe, trapped, and one strong hand grabbed me and yanked me out.

The door burst open and Benny stood in the light, panic filling his scared, childlike eyes. He was screaming my name. He locked eyes with the man and fell silent. For the longest moment, the two stared at each other. Then the man smiled and grabbed me, holding me against him. I heard the unmistakable cock of a gun and then felt the cool round barrel against my temple.

"You think you're invincible, don't you Benji?" He snarled, his breath brushing my ear. "You think that when you take things that don't belong to you, nobody will catch you. Nobody will hold you accountable. But I will."

"Who are you?" Benny cried. "What are you talking about?"

The man tightened his grip around my throat and I was left choking for air.

"Liars!" He shouted. "I hate liars, Benji."

"Please," he begged. "I'll do whatever you want. Just stop."

My head was burning, heat rising in my cheeks, searing the tips of my ears. Then came a rumble. Low at first, then it grew. Deep and menacing, a deep-belly laugh, rising up the throat of the man, and then his grip slightly loosened so I could breathe.

"Did you stop?" He asked. "When you saw that you killed her?"

"Killed who? What the fuck are you talking about?!"

"You know who!" He roared.

Benji stood in the doorway, petrified and helpless and so very confused. Then, his eyes widened ever so slightly.

"Dana," he whispered. "Is that who you're talking about? The name you wrote on Vic's wall?"

His grip tightened again, anger shooting through his veins. I could feel the heat radiating off him.

"You took something from me, Benjamin Forrester. You and your partner in crime. So now, I won't stop until I see you both broken, in pieces, with nothing left to live for."

Benny gulped, eyes wide. Then, in my last moment of consciousness, I locked eyes with my brother. Utter, indescribable fear closed in on me, like the darkness of nightfall on a tiny powerless village. It pierced deep into my body and penetrated my bones, telling me that this was the end. But then there was something else, something much more powerful.

Love.

And then I blinked, and it was all over.

© A.G. Travers 2015