Page 5

Cody

Rafael hadn’t left his room since he arrived that afternoon. After he disappeared, I sat with Mom and Hank on the patio for a while. Hank looked rough. Mom fixed him a cocktail, and he downed it; then, he promptly took every bottle of liquor we had and locked it in the shed. I could tell he was questioning whether this was a good idea. It wasn’t. I wanted to say that, but I kept my mouth shut.

Our house was small despite Hank’s wealth. They both wanted to live modestly. It was a fascinating house that hadn’t been gutted, stripped of personality, and painted a clinical grey like most homes on the block. It still had the crown molding and grand woodwork standard in Beaux-Arts homes of its day. Yeah, I developed a thing for architecture as a kid. I guess that’s the byproduct of growing up in a basement. Mom loved the character, but the bedrooms were tiny, so Hank remodeled the attic into a master bedroom with an en suite bathroom. I had free rein over the second floor. Until now.

Everything had happened so quickly that Mom didn’t have enough time to prepare a “welcome dinner” for Rafael. Like he deserved one.

She asked me to run out and get Chinese from this swanky place that didn’t do delivery. I asked her why we couldn’t get pizza or whatever, and she just gave me that glare that told me she’d lose it if I didn’t get the damn food.

Whatever. As I was making my way to my bedroom, I could hear Rafael talking to someone on the phone. Good. I didn’t want to have to deal with him. I went to my room, grabbed a pair of shoes, slipped on a grey hoodie, and was about to go downstairs when Rafael’s door flung open.

He looked shocked to see me. The impulse to tell him that I’ve lived here for years and he was the unusual variable in this scenario was palpable . He sneered at me and let out this condescending little snort.

“What?” I asked him.

“I didn’t say anything.”

Don’t let him get to you. I tried to walk past him, but his arm shot out and stopped me from descending the stairs.

“Where ya going, Golden Boy?”

Golden Boy? Who does this asshole think he is? “I’m getting food.”

He raised a brow. “Whatcha gettin’?”

“Chinese.”

“Oh, yummy.” His tongue swiped along the seam of his lips. A move that made my heart rate speed up. Was he trying to taunt me? It was like he was playing the role of a cartoon wolf seeking its prey. “You taking the car?” he asked.

I was very obviously holding a set of car keys in my hand, so I dangled them and said, “Yup,” making sure to pop the ‘p’ sound.

“Perfect. Hold on a sec.” He turned around and closed the door behind him. When he re-emerged, he had his cap back on. “Let’s go, Goldilocks.”

He brushed past me and started walking down the stairs. What? Please, God, I can’t be in a car alone with him. “You don’t have to. I can go.”

He stopped and turned around, that creepy-ass smile back on his face. “Nonsense. Brotherly bonding time. I’ll help carry the shit.”

With that, he continued down the stairs and into the living room. I followed him, and we were met by Mom fussing in the dining room and Hank sitting on the sofa, reading.

Rafael approached them and said. “I’ll help Cody with the food. It’s the least I can do.” He said it as if it were the most generous act ever done in all of history. I rolled my eyes so hard it almost hurt my head.

“How sweet! I think it’s good for you two to get some quality time,” Mom replied.

I want this as much as I want someone to staple my head to the carpet. “Yeah. We’ll be back soon,” I replied through clenched teeth.

I made my way to the front door, the tension in my shoulders tightening as I braced myself for a car ride with my psycho stepbrother. A gasp stopped me in my tracks, and I turned to see Rafael standing in the middle of the living room, frozen. His typical shit-eating, douchey demeanor had vanished; he stood stiff as a board.

I slowly approached to see his usually tanned skin looking pale, and his eyes were locked on something. I followed his gaze to the picture on the mantle of him, Hank, and Mattie.

I don’t know why I did it. Perhaps a small part of me still wanted the boy in that picture to be my friend. Whatever the reason, I placed my hand on his shoulder.

Hank must have noticed because he stood up and said, “Raf. I know it’s—”

Rafael snapped out of it, shaking my hand away, and making a beeline for the door. “Let’s go, Cody.”

I looked at Hank and Mom for guidance. Should I go? Hank, do you want to go? I wanted Hank to go more than anything in the world. Rafael didn’t need me at that moment; he needed his Dad. But I heard him holler for me from outside, so I just ran out the door and followed.

With each step he took to the car, his body became increasingly tense. His fists clenched at his sides, and his shoulders rose and fell from his heavy breathing. He got in the passenger’s side and slammed the door. My hand felt clammy as I gripped the door handle and slunk into the driver’s seat.

As I started the car and pulled out of the driveway, Rafael typed on his phone. His breathing was ragged, and his leg bounced up and down as he tapped his foot on the floor. “Make a right on Allard Avenue.”

Allard Avenue? That would take us in the complete opposite direction from the restaurant. “That’s not the way to—”

“Do what I fucking told you, Cody!”

My heart nearly shattered my chest. I swallowed hard and turned onto Allard Avenue.

“Good. A left on Sickle.”

I didn’t ask any questions. Rafael looked unhinged, so I just followed him as he barked out directions. I didn’t know where he was taking us, but the look on his face told me just to do it. We turned down Quaker Ridge, and he said, “There it is. Pull over.”

A fucking liquor store. “Rafael, I’m not going in—”

“If you don’t pull over right now, I will snap your fucking neck and throw your body in a dumpster. Then, I’ll grab my booze, steal this car, get wasted and drive off a fucking bridge. Is that what you want?”

I won’t lie; at that moment, I was onboard with the bridge part of his scenario.

I pulled into the parking lot, and Rafael was out the door before I’d even come to a complete stop. He bolted into the shop, and I just sat there. The neon lights of the Wine and Spirits sign cast a red hue across the hood of the white Aston Martin Hank bought me. I couldn’t believe this. He hadn’t been here a whole day, and it was already happening. I bit my lower lip. Fuck. My. Life.

Rafael strode out of the shop and got into the car. He pulled the half pint of Smirnoff out of the brown bag, twisted the cap off, and started chugging.

“The fuck, dude! You can’t just drink like that in a car! That’s illegal,” I bellowed.

He coughed into his arm, then rolled his eyes. “Fuck off, Golden Boy.”

“How’d you even get that?” I questioned.

He took another sip, grimacing and wiping the booze from his lips. “I have a fake, dumbshit.”

I gripped the wheel hard as I bit the side of my mouth. This dude was asking for it. I was three seconds away from kicking his ass out and making him walk back home. That’s what I should have done. He was breaking the law! You couldn’t just drink in a fucking car like that. If we got pulled over, I’d be in deep shit too. Maybe he didn’t give a flying fuck about his life, but I was pretty fond of mine. “So, what? You’re just going to get wasted while I drive around? My Mom is already freaking out about all of this. She feels like shit that she didn’t have a dinner ready for you, when we didn’t even know you would be living with us until six hours ago, and you’re just going to get totaled and destroy her whole night?”

He snatched my hoodie by the chest and pulled me into him. His icy blue eyes bore into mine as his jaw muscles clenched. “This,” he raised the bottle to eyeline, “will be the only reason I don’t ruin dinner tonight. Would Jill be happy if I stuck a knife in Hank’s throat? You think that would ruin her precious dinner?”

I wasn’t listening anymore. The smell of vodka burned my nose, and Rafael’s blue eyes flashed with emotion. Everything else just disappeared.

Rafael pushed me away and took another sip. He hissed at the taste. “This is going to ensure I don’t care. If I walk in there sober, something will happen. I promise you that much. Let me do this, and everything will be fine.”

I looked down at his leg, which was bouncing up and down again. It was as if something was trapped in his body, trying to pound its way out. I licked my lips. I didn’t know how to ask the next question. Maybe it wasn’t a question. Perhaps he just needed to know someone kind of got it. Whatever my rationale, I said it. “Look. It must be hard. Seeing Mattie’s—”

His hand gripped my neck faster than lightning, and he pushed me against the door, my head slamming into the window.

“His name doesn’t leave your lips. You hear?” His voice was a full octave lower. It was haunting—detached—like it wasn’t even him. Even his face changed. There wasn’t rage, malice, or hate. He just looked empty.

The skin on my neck prickled as his hand gripped my throat, and a tingling sensation began to travel down my back. I clenched my fists, preparing myself to fight.

“Get your hand off my neck or you’ll regret it,” I said.

Life came back into his eyes like someone flipped a switch. He looked shocked for a moment. Then, he sneered at me. “Oh yeah? What’ll you do to me, Golden Boy?”

My jaw clenched, and I could hear my molars grinding against each other. “You don’t get to do this,” I warned. “You don’t get to put your hands on me.”

He cocked his head. “Hmm, is that a fact? What are you going to do about it?”

I snapped my arms forward, my fists gripping his shirt, and slammed him against the window. The impact made him cough, and he stared at me, eyes flashing with excitement. His mouth twisted into a macabre smile. “Fuck, Cody. You like it rough?”

I blinked with confusion. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Rafael released a fast jab to my ribs, knocking the wind out of me. He pulled me into a headlock then hissed in my ears, “If you want to fight me, all you have to do is say the words. I’ll drag your ass out of this car and beat you to a pulp in the parking lot. How do you think your mommy would react to that?”

My hands gripped his arm, and I struggled to free myself. I gasped for breath as I kicked against the door, but I couldn’t get free.

“You want me to stop?” He asked.

I pushed my feet against the car door harder, trying to use the force to shove his body against the door on his side. My hands grasped for his face, but all I could grab were fistfuls of his black hair.

“Mmm, I love it when you pull my hair like that, Golden Boy.”

The lights started to fade, and my thrashing slowed. “Say please,” he demanded.

It killed me to do it, but I rasped out a breathy ‘please,’ and he let go. I heaved as air finally filled my lungs again.

“Good boy,” he said. “Now drive to this fucking restaurant. I’m famished.”