Game of Revenge

Chapter 4

Michael

“Brian has been gone a long time,” Kier mutters as he bends over and aims for the eight ball. I’d forgotten how good he was at pool.

“I'll go look for him. Get us another round,” I suggest before leaving them and walking down the hall.

It's dark back here and quiet. Shayna passes me, almost bumping into my arm. She's obviously upset, and her mascara is running.

“Hey, you okay?” I ask her. Opening her mouth, she covers it with her hand and begins to sob, shaking her head.

“So much blood. I went to take the trash out… I called an ambulance. I was coming in to find you guys.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It's Brian… I think he's dead… It's all my fault. I never should have called him. Fuck, I can't go to prison. I have a kid.”

“What the fuck did you do!” I shout, grabbing her hand and pulling her back to the alley door she just walked through.

“No, Michael, please. I can't see him like that again. I loved him once. Remember? He was supposed to be my forever instead of that prick Ricky.”

Shayna rambles as I continue to drag her to the backlot.

Halting, she drops onto her knees and begs me to spare her. “Please. I'll do anything. But please, my son doesn't deserve to be an orphan. I'm sorry I called him. I was just pissed that you guys came to my bar of all places.”

“Shut the fuck up,” I roar then slap her across the cheeks and pick her up, shaking her like a rag doll.

“I'm sorry,” she whispers, and I toss her to the side.

It’s so dark out here. No lights or even stars, but I can tell that something horrible happened.

Turning on my flashlight app on my phone, my hand won't stop shaking.

I know I should turn around and tell the guys, but seeing my brother, my twin, laying there completely broken and not moving, I feel a sense of relief.

I know I'm fucked up. But if he's no longer around, maybe I'll finally get Kiernan to myself. I won't have to continue to compete with him.

It's exhausting being the other twin. The one who got shitty grades and into fights.

Growing up a twin isn't for the faint of heart. From day one it's a competition. Who can crawl first, talk, walk.

Who will be the perfect son and sleep through the night, while the other has constant ear aches and is exhausting.

From the start I was always twin number two, fighting to be seen, heard, loved.

Brian was always the one favored. The one picked first to play dodgeball. The one all the girls had a crush on.

The teachers loved him and so did the coaches.

He had it easy as I fought tooth and nail just for his leftover scraps.

But if he's gone now, I won't have to deal with that anymore.

I can hear the sirens down the road, and I know my time is running out. Brian grunts but it's weak.

Dropping to my knees, I touch his cheek. His eyes cracked open, but they are almost completely swollen shut.

“Fuck, bro,” I whisper, and he leans into my touch.

“Help,” he croaks. He looks so pitiful. I'm doing him a favor.

Glancing over my shoulder, I shine the flashlight. Shayna is still on the ground.

She might be a problem.

“Mike,” Brian gasps. The sirens are growing louder, and I can see the lights in the distance.

“Goodbye, brother.”

Covering his nose and mouth he doesn't even have the strength to fight me. Biting my lip, I close my eyes and count to ten.

Brian twitches once, and then he's still.

“What? What the hell did you do?” Shayna screeches.

Wiping the blood off of my hands on my black slacks, I climb back onto my feet and move closer to her.

Kicking gravel, she tries to get away from me. Crouching low, I grab her by the throat and pull her nose to mine.

“Keep your mouth fucking shut, or I'll do the same to you.”

Letting her go, I turn back to my flesh and blood, grip my hair tight into my fists and begin to scream for help.

And the Oscar goes to… me.

Kiernan

Even though my eyes are closed, I keep replaying last night over and over. How everything started out fine, but turned into a horror show. He’s gone. The man I have loved over and over will never open his blue eyes again.

Tears clog my throat, and I begin to shake. I have seen some fucked up things in my life, but the massacre of the one I wanted to spend my days with will haunt me until I die. He didn’t deserve this.

“Should we wake him?” someone whispers nearby, but I’m not opening my eyes. Maybe if I just lay here things will be different. That the violent images in my head were just a fucked up nightmare.

Finding Mike screaming, and the backlot behind the bar full of ambulances, was not how I imagined our night ending.

But seeing Brian there on a stretcher not moving. Covered in blood. His face an unrecognizable mess.

They bashed his head in and pounded his dick. He had to have been in unimaginable pain. What did he ever do to them? Huh?

Because he chose to live his life. Be happy. I thought queer bashing was a thing of the past.

I guess this little town hasn't gotten the memo. But they will. I will make sure that Brian's death wasn't in vain.

He was filled with light, and now all that resides inside of me is darkness.

“No, let him sleep. Better to be in a state of delusion than here in reality,” Mike grunts.

Tray sighs, then I don't hear anything else as the door shuts.

Rolling over, I grab Brian's pillow and bring it to my chest, holding it. I wish it smelled like him, but he hasn't been home in a long time.

I know I need to get up. Start making calls and plans, but right now…

Im going to lay here and visualize what I'll do to those fuckers if I ever find out who killed my guy.

I must drift off again because Mike climbing into bed, wrapping me into his arms, wakes me.

“What time is it?” I croak. My throat aches from crying, and I need a drink.

“Almost midnight. I made you a sandwich if you're up for eating. It's on the side table.”

Rolling over to face him, I look into his eyes. Aside from them being a little red, he's fine.

“How are you not dying inside?”

Sighing, he flips onto his back. “I am, I’m just better at holding things in.”

Michael is the other half of Brian. They were brothers, twins even, yet he appears to be functioning fine.

Where’s the secret pill to forget, to stop feeling as if I’m lit on fire?

“That's not healthy, but I'm not in the right mind to push,” I mumble, then gasp as the pain hits again.

This hurts so bad. All I want is to be able to hug Brian again. I should have walked with him. I didn’t see the dangers that were hidden in the bar. I wish it were me.

“Shhh, it's okay, baby. I've got you. Everything will be fine. You're mine.”

“You need to eat something, Mom,” Mike pleads with Brianna. Sitting at the kitchen table, there is a cold pizza opened in front of me.

Just the thought of eating makes me want to throw up. I can only imagine how Brian's mom feels.

“Mike, maybe we should just give her a little space,” Tray mumbles, and I look up at him for the first time in over a day.

He's been so strong, but I know inside he's breaking apart too. Trying to hold on for us as we fall apart.

“Let's get out of here. Go for a walk,” Tray suggests, and I nod. Though I'd rather stick knives in my chest.

The pain wouldn't compare to how I feel right now.

Pushing my chair back, I stand. The room spins. I have to grab onto the table for a moment as the lightheadedness and nausea passes.

I'll eat something later. Right now Tray needs me to go for a walk.

Taking his hand, we shuffle over to the living room.

Our bags still rest there, waiting to be brought upstairs to the bedroom.

Mike sits on the couch.

“You’re not coming?” I ask him, and he shakes his head.

I know the moment we leave, he's going to lose it. I'd offer him comfort, but at the moment I don't think I could handle it.

Tray grabs two hoodies from the closet by the door, and I slip one on. There's a huge bulldog on it, and it's super soft.

Opening the door, I walk outside into the night. It's close to nine and the small streets are desolate.

It's almost peaceful and that's just wrong. I need chaos and destruction. I need…

Taking my phone out of the basketball shorts pocket, I dial a number that I should have called from the beginning.

I don't know why I haven't. Maybe it's because I'm still hoping to wake up and all this has been a bloody nightmare.

“Kier? Are you okay? Hello?” Carrie shouts into the phone, but it hurts to breathe, let alone talk.

Closing my mouth, I take a deep breath, then croak out, “I need you, Carebear.”

“Tell me where you are and I’m on my way.” I can hear her telling one of her guys to pack their bags and load up the kids.

No hesitation. No delay. She’s always there for me and the massive amount of how much she loves me and I love her, sets me off again.

“I don’t know what’s going on, Kiernan, but I love you and will always be there for you. Just text me the address. I’ll see you soon.”

She ends the call, and I send her my location, then toss my phone into my pocket and pull the hood of the sweatshirt over my head.

I don’t want to exist right now, but knowing that she’s coming helps a little bit.

“What all needs to be done for the funeral?” I ask Tray as we slowly walk up and down the street where Brian and Michael grew up.

It's a nice neighborhood and I can picture raising a family here. If only it wasn't in this shit town.

“Mike took care of a lot of it, but we still need to choose music and flowers.”

“Magnolias.” They were his favorite. I'd surprise him randomly with them. Brian loved all living things, but he could never keep plants alive.

It drove him crazy.

“This just doesn't feel real. How is it that last week we were bowling and having a group date? Taking a break from the construction, and now…”

Stopping, I pull his hand so he will look at me.

“I know they say we should remember the ones we lost, but I'm not ready yet. It hurts too much,” Tray whispers as his eyes fill with tears.

“It only just happened. We are allowed to live in a state of delusion. Brian would understand.”

“Mike is the most delusional. This morning I heard him humming while brushing his teeth. He hasn't broken down once, and I'm worried about him.”

I've barely left the room in two days so I haven't noticed anything being off. “People process things differently. Just keep an eye on him and when he breaks, love and support him like you're doing to me.”

“Look, Tray, I appreciate you trying to distract me, but I just want to go back to bed.”

Continuing down the street, I turn as we reach a stop sign. There is a small park and I can hear the men laughing and clinking beer bottles.

Tray stops and looks behind us. “Yeah, let's turn around,” he mutters, and I sigh. My shoulder loses some of the tension in them.

“Hey, if it isn't those sissy boys. The ones fucking Brian. God rest his faggot soul,” a man shouts, and I turn to see who is speaking.

Instantly I remember him from the other night.

“What did you say?” I roar, taking a step closer as my fists clench.

He laughs, shaking his dark hair. “You heard me. He's right where he belongs and you better take your filth and leave my town before you join him.”

“Craig, stop. Look man, he's drunk. His wife just left him for a woman so his opinion is skewed. I'm sorry about Brian. He was a great guy,” a tall blond says, grabbing his about to be dead friend and pulling him back to the picnic table where some of the other guys are watching this all go down.

“Kier, let's just go,” Tray mumbles. His body is stiff as he keeps an eye on everyone.

Some of the men are scowling at us, the others look like they couldn't give a fuck.

Do they have something to do with Brian's death…

If they are the ones they better watch out because I will massacre them all. They don't call my best friend the Doctor for nothing.

Michael

Kiernan and Tray walk out the door, and I wait a few minutes before getting up and going back into the kitchen.

I know I should feel some form of guilt or maybe remorse for what I did, but I didn't really kill my brother.

He was already practically dead. I just gave him a push so he wouldn't be in pain anymore.

That's all.

Humming to myself, I move around the kitchen, preparing something to eat. My mother watches me, but she's not really seeing me. But that's okay.

Soon she won't even remember I was a twin. I will be the only light in her life. Her one and only baby boy.

Hiding my smile from her. I keep my back to her as I whisk the broth. This is going to be good and just the thing to make everyone better.

I know it's only been a few days, but the constant weeping for Brian is getting old.

Time to let the past lie and start our future.

Dishing out some broth into a bowl, I walk back to the table and place it in front of my mom.

She glances at it and sighs, but she never picks up the spoon.

No, that just won't do.

“Mom, please eat something,” I coax, pushing the chicken soup closer to her. It's her recipe. The one she always made for me and Brian when we were sick or upset.

The pizza Tray ordered from lunch still sits there uneaten and cold. I know he was just trying to help, but we don't need the carbs.

“Thank you, baby, but no. Maybe later. I just want to go to sleep.”

Standing, she grabs the bottle of vodka from the counter, then leaves, going to her room.

Silence. It's too quiet. This house has always been loud and hectic. Brian laughing or yelling at a football game.

My mom on the phone with my aunt discussing the gossip at the hospital. She's been a nurse there for thirty years.

I bet she never expected to get a call about an ambulance coming into the bay and finding out it was her unresponsive son.

Finding him with his face bashed in, broken and bloody will be an image that stays with me forever.

I did the right thing. He would have suffered otherwise.

Right?

No, Mike, now's not the time to second guess. You wanted him gone and God looked down on you and answered your prayers.

Fuck, I need to get out of here. Kiernan and Tray are out for a walk. I should have gone with them.

Putting the soup in the fridge, I grab a bottle of water and go to my room. I haven't been back here in a long time and it looks like my mom didn't change a thing.

Laying on my bed, I stare up at the tattered rock star posters on my ceiling, remembering the nights I would fuck my hand to them.

I've always been gay and proud of it. But this town doesn't accept people like me and the guys.

After we lay my brother to rest we need to get the fuck out of here before things escalate even more.

Rolling over, I dig into my side table. I doubt I have any left, but I could use something to help me sleep.

Last time I went on a bender, Brian, tossed my room apart looking for drugs. He was always sticking his nose where it didn't belong.

The perfect son. The one who could do no wrong. Excellent grades, played sports without trying, and had the favor of our mother.

But he's gone and now it's my time to shine.