Page 148 of String Boys

“He’s still in danger from the police. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but every year, Carlton Durant puts that police sketch all over the local news, makes Castor a celebrity cold case and all this shit. I can’t call him. Even if….” He trailed off. There was no if. There never had been.

Matty nodded, looking troubled. “Yeah.” He sighed. “Yeah.” He leaned his head back against the bed. “Doyouthink he did it?”

“I don’t care,” Kelly said, adamant. He’d had eight years to think about this. “I used to think that made me a bad person, but now I don’t care about that either. Did you see him before he left for Bridgford?”

“No,” Matty said, his expression dark and faraway. “Or if I did, I was too high to care.”

“I did. He’d been beat the fuck up. He had choke marks around his throat, same as me. His eye was brick red, his face swollen. Whatever happened that night, it didn’t come easy. He didn’t walk up to Castor Durant and shoot him in the back. I mean… I love him. I love him more than anyone on the planet, but I helped him get his passport. I know hestillcan’t plan far enough to plan a murder. If he did it, it was self-defense. If he didn’t, someone did the world a favor.” Kelly hadn’t forgotten his brother’s broken confession of being dragged into addiction, into pain. “I’m just sorry it didn’t happen sooner.”

Matty let out a fractured laugh. “Me too. Hey, could you lend me your laptop? It’s connected to the printer, right?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“And lend me Agnes too.”

Kelly couldn’t help the hurt. “I finally don’t hate you, and you’re kicking me out of the room?”

To his surprise, Matty’s eyes darkened with more pain. “You don’t know what that means,” he rasped. “That you don’t hate me right now. This is me, paying you back. Trust me, little brother. I’ve got some shit to sort.”

Kelly stood, and found himself leaning over the bed to kiss Matty on the forehead. “Sleep soon,” he murmured, knowing Matty was in constant pain, every moment of every day.

“I’ll be sleeping forever soon enough,” he said. “Sleep is overrated.”

Well, he hadn’t been missing Seth like Kelly had. Sleep was Kelly’s only refuge these days.

“In that case, don’t sleep yet,” Kelly told him. “Let me not hate you for a week. That would be fucking awesome.”

Matty smiled, and some peace stole across his battered features. “I won’t die until you send for him. That’s the deal, Kelly. I gotta make that shit right.”

“I’ll think about it,” Kelly said. In his heart he knew—he had to. God. Seth deserved to not hate Matty too.

“Good. Now send Agnes in, okay?”

Kelly left, taking over dinner and childcare. Linda came up, Craig at her heels, both of them with groceries, which meant fresh salad for dinner and ice cream for dessert, and Kelly felt a measure of contentment steal into his soul.

Craig put away groceries while Kelly’s mom went into the front room and started talking to Chloe and playing with Xavier. Kelly looked at Craig, his chest swelling with the memory of the day Seth had left.

Kelly had been downstairs, sitting on Craig’s worn and broken denim couch, not even pretending not to cry. Seth’s father had walked in, surprising him. So soon? Seth was gone so soon? Kelly scrambled off the couch, wiping his face with his arm.

“Sorry. Sorry. Habit. You probably don’t even want to see me anymore. Just, you know, this was my safe place for so long and—”

“Kelly—Kelly, wait.” Craig closed the door behind him and held out his arms. “Kelly, what makes you think that’s how love works?”

They’d cried together.

And now, seeing Seth’s father looking tired, a little sad, Kelly felt like… what? Like it was time? His brother said it was time, so it just—

Who was he kidding.

“Is he coming back for the holidays?” Kelly asked, voice squeaking on the first two words.

“Christmas—the week before,” Craig said, giving him an overcasual look. “Why?”

Kelly took a deep breath. “How’s… how’s he doing?”

“Shitty.”

Kelly let out a bark of laughter. “He sounds okay when he calls.” Of course, Kelly fled the room—hell, fled the apartment—when that happened.