31. Colson
THIRTY-ONE
COLSON
If it weren’t for the kid on the treadmill across the way and Llewellyn’s niece Kelsie at the front counter, I’d have Gulliver’s to myself. The entire floor and the silence that comes with it. I’m kind of wishing it were the case because my headphones are dead, and Treadmill Kid has been playing some weird angsty boxing playlist from his phone. I think he thinks it isn’t that loud, but the volume is high enough that it’s getting under my skin.
I need fucking silence.
To go at the bag without worrying about it punching back. That, and it’s been a week since Tommy has had a fight for me. Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve, and I need something to hang onto other than my own reality and the fact that I’ll be entering an entirely new year without Mom alive.
Not to mention, Finn keeps showing his face at the house.
Three nights ago, he was waiting on the porch when I came home. I ignored him. Pretended he was nothing more than a giant piece of garbage wasting space before unlocking the door and slamming it behind me.
Two nights ago, he was there again. With a cigarette pinched between his lips, he leaned against the dirty siding and nodded at me when I climbed the front steps. I stopped for half a second, watched him blow smoke from his mouth and did a repeat of the night before.
Ignore.
Unlock door.
Slam door.
Go about my business.
Easy peasy, right?
Yeah, not so much. Even though I had nothing to say to him, he has managed to get in my head. I’ve lost sleep over him trying to push himself into my life. I don’t know why he’s trying.
I lay in bed at night thinking what life would have been like if I had a brother. I guess in a sense I did. I had Sebastian, but it’s different. Sebastian’s upbringing was so distinctly opposite from mine that it would have been nice to have someone to understand what I was going through. Who could relate to having a fucked-up family life with a parent who only cared about themselves.
Then I recall the last few months. The way Finn treated me. The way he abused my love for Mom and threatened us if we didn’t pay back her debt.
I don’t trust him.
I can’t trust him.
Which only makes it worse that he’s brought Violet into this shit. Bringing her into Coco’s Chocolates was a mistake, and I’m just waiting for it to catch up to us.
Treadmill Kid’s music changes. It’s some angsty teenage bullshit song. I pound my fists into my bag harder, ignoring the sweat that drips down the side of my face. My arms ache in protest with each hit, my muscles sore from the continuous strain I’ve put on them with little upkeep on my part. My sleep has been crap. My nutrition, too. I’m not taking care of myself, but at least my head isn’t hurting anymore.
A crumb of a blessing in a dumpster of baked goods.
I finish my combo and drop to the bench near the bags. The front door chimes, but I don’t pay much attention to it. People come and go all the time. A blur of black enters the corner of my sight and sits next to me.
“Think they’ll mind if I get in a few jabs?” Treadmill Kid’s music fades out, my half brother’s voice turning into the only sound I hear.
“Leave,” I snap.
“Well, that’s rude.”
“I don’t give a fuck. You’re not welcome here.”
“Says who?” Finn looks around. “You?”
“Obviously.”
He smirks and pushes his hair back. My eyes drop to the fresh ink on the side of his neck. Shame the needle didn’t go just a little deeper. “How the hell is this place still running when there’s only two of you in here?”
“There’s three of us.” It’s pointless to mention, but for some reason I don’t want to exclude Kelsie. Maybe the sympathetic part of me feels bad for ignoring her most of the time. I glance in her direction. She has her hair in an updo and is rocking a Gulliver’s Gym & Ring polo, except hers is a different shade of gray than mine.
“Ah, yeah.” Finn’s gaze follows mine, and it doesn’t take a genius to see the way he checks her out. I suddenly wish she wasn’t there at all. Her copper red hair only makes it worse. I’d be lying if I said she wasn’t pretty. She has a softness to her, similar to Violet, that I can’t help but notice. She’s shy, usually quiet aside from greeting whoever comes and goes. And she has this blinding smile with perfect straight teeth that tattle on her for having braces growing up.
“Pretty little redhead, isn’t she?” Finn observes.
I don’t answer him.
“I had a major thing for redheads when I was a teenager.” I don’t know why he’s telling me this. I grab the bottle of water from my bag and start chugging. “Jessica Chastain. Emma Stone.” He nods at her then glances over. “You get in that yet?”
I give him a hard-pressed, “No.”
Why the hell would he ask me that when he knows I was with Violet?
“Why the fuck not? Ah.” He grins. “Holding out for Violet again, aren’t you? Hoping she’ll eventually see past this toddler tantrum you’re having and take you back?”
“Fuck off, Finn.”
“Now we both know you don’t want that.”
I cap my water bottle. “It’s exactly what I want.”
“You mean to tell me that you haven’t liked seeing my handsome mug at your house at all hours of the night?”
Sinking my bottle in the side pocket of my bag, I grab my gloves and shove them in the open pocket. I zip it up then toss the strap over my shoulder. No point in hanging around when one of my biggest stressors is three feet away from me.
He follows, and my irritation over him being near escalates like that carnival game where you whack the hammer against the big red button and the little thingy flies skyward. Kelsie gives us a timid wave and soft smile as we push through the doors and make it outside.
I don’t bother waving back.
“Come on,” he draws out. “Forgetting we’re brothers?”
“No,” I say to him. “We’re not.”
“Pretty sure we are, so you’re gonna have to get used to it, Moore.”
I twist on my heel, damn near ready to shove him up against the old siding of the building. The only reason I don’t is because I respect Llewellyn too much to cause a scene in front of his establishment. Hell, if he knew Finn was poking his snout around, he’d have a fit about that alone.
My blood morphs into smoldering hot lava as I stand in front of him and growl out, “I don’t have to get used to shit. You need to stay away from me. We’re nothing alike and whatever game you’re playing at, I’m not interested.”
I take a step closer. He holds his ground because he’s Finn. I’m not stupid enough to think that he’d cower to me. The smirk playing on his face does drop, though. I consider it a bigger win than making his knees buckle.
“Remember when I told you I was done with you in the back of your car on the strip? I wasn’t fucking around, and I’m not now, either. We’re not brothers. We weren’t three months ago. We’re not now. We never will be.”
“You keep forgetting that it was kept from me, too. I’m not saying we have to be best friends. Fuck, I don’t entirely know what the hell I’m doing but…”
I don’t know why I do it, but I ask. “But what?”
He grits his teeth. “He always preaches that blood is permanent and how it’s the one thing you never cross. You fuck with family, and you pay the consequences.”
I stare at him for a long second and then the sound barrels up my chest and pours out of my mouth. I wouldn’t stop it even if I wanted to. I laugh. It’s sudden and deep and hearty. He stares at me, but I can’t help it. He actually thinks he can take back everything he did?
I don’t fucking think so.
His audacity is truly admirable.
“I don’t know what’s so goddamn funny,” he mutters.
“You,” I tell him. “You are. You think you can come around, share some bullshit sob story about how you were raised by the same man who bailed on me and enabled my mom’s drug habit and think that,” I snap my finger, “it’s enough to wipe the slate clean? That it’s enough to erase the fuckery you’ve caused and kickstart some kind of brotherly bond you’re suddenly searching for?” I pause for effect. “Well, I hate to break it to you, Brother , but you’re shit out of luck on this one. Your guilty conscience is on you this time, not me.”