“What are you doing here?” Mark asks. I almost stand up to see who’s there, but I realize the couch is hiding me. If it’s Brian, I don’t want him to know I’ve been up here with his brother.
“Looking for you.” Brian’s voice cuts through the night, and my heart races.
“Why?”
I hear a laugh, and I can picture Brian’s cocky smile. “I think it’s time we had a talk.”
Mark steps around the couch without looking down at me, without drawing attention to the fact that I’m here.
“About what?” Mark asks.
“You know what,” Brian mutters.
I freeze on the couch as I strain to hear what they’re saying without making a sound. I’m terrified Brian’s going to step around the couch and find me here. He can’t find out about Mark and me, not this way—especially not if I want to try to fix things between us.
“Are you drunk?” Mark asks.
There’s a beat of silence and I remember Mark telling me that Brian tends to make bad decisions when he drinks.
“Yeah. So?” There’s a short pause and some rustling, then Brian says, "Did you think I wouldn't find out?”
“Find out what?” Mark asks.
“About the two of you fucking each other behind my back.”
My heart stops as an icy fear filters through my veins.
He knows.
I consider getting up from the spot where I sit on the couch. Brian already knows about Mark and me. I might as well stop hiding now, both literally and figuratively. It’s over with Mark, anyway.
Mark doesn’t deny anything, though he doesn’t admit to it, either. Instead, he takes a chance by tossing out an accusation. “You don’t want to marry Reese.”
“No, I don’t.” Brian laughs, and it’s a snide, vicious sound I’ve never heard from him before. “But it’s worth it to see you suffer. You should’ve seen your dumb ass in the backseat of the car when I brought it up.”
No, I don’t. His words grate on my mind and reverberate through my entire being. I start to vibrate with confusion as it seeps into my pores.
“You know what’s the best part of all this?” Brian asks, slurring on the s sounds in his words.
“What’s that?”
“Your voice on replay from that night in my head. This girl’s different.” His voice goes up a few octaves and drips with sarcasm. “Tonight meant something to me. Blah-de-fucking-blah.” Brian laughs, and the sound is harsh and grating. Mean.
“Is that supposed to be me?” Mark asks.
“It’s you acting like a pussy the night you met her.”
My heart races. Mark told Brian about me?
“You remembered her?” Mark asks.
“Of course I did. You think I’m gonna forget about the girl my brother said has the potential to change the course of his life? I ran into her the next morning when she was getting off the elevator.”
“And that was it?”
“Well, no. I had to do some handiwork with the principal of her school to make sure Reese would be the one who came begging for a donation. A little research goes a long way, though, and I snagged her pretty easily after that. Throw a little cash around, and they drop right to their knees, eh?” He pauses, and his voice is nasty when he speaks again. “I learned that from my big brother.”
A wave of nausea washes over me. I feel like I might be sick right here on the couch as I listen to this garbage, as my heart fills with hatred for the man who was just talking to me about marriage a few hours ago.
“Destiny dropped her right into my lap,” Brian says, using the code word Mark and I share, “and I’m not talking about the same Destiny whose G-string I was sticking dollar bills into last weekend.”
“You went to a strip club last weekend?”
Brian grates out another harsh laugh. “Every weekend I’m out of town. It’s a business expense.”
My chest tightens and my breathing labors as tears prick behind my eyes. I shouldn’t feel spurned after cheating on him with Mark, but his words cut into my ribs with a sharpness that nauseates me.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Mark asks.
“It’s sweet. Revenge, I mean. It tastes good. Almost as good as Reese’s cunt.”
“Why’d you go after her if you knew I wanted more than one night?” Mark’s voice is broken.
“Let’s use our fucking heads here, big brother.”
It’s quiet for a beat. “Kendra,” Mark murmurs.
“Bingo.”
I hear someone blow out a breath.
“You're fucking sick,” Mark says.
I can picture Brian’s cocky smirk, but neither of them speaks for a minute.
“Why are you telling me this now?” Mark asks.
“It’s time to end the charade. With what happened to Pops, I realized life is short. I don’t want to waste time anymore, though she is a sweet fuck. I did what I needed to. I got my revenge. It’s time to move on. You can have her if you still want her.” It’s quiet for a beat, then Brian asks, “You tapped that bareback yet?”
“Fuck you,” Mark spits out.
“She rode me bare and she felt like a fucking velvet piece of heaven. You should try it sometime.”
The sound of a sack of potatoes falling to the ground greets my ears, and I can’t take it anymore. I stand up and turn around to see what’s going on.
Brian is on the ground, completely defenseless and obviously drunk as Mark straddles his waist and pummels him, punching his jaw with one fist and his nose with the other. Brian’s reflexes are slowed from the alcohol.
I’ve never seen an actual fight in person—even fights on television give me anxiety—but this isn’t much of a fight. It’s a defenseless man who’s had far too much to drink getting bashed by a man who bears a grudge.
Fresh blood glints in the moonlight on Brian’s face, and a new wave of nausea passes over me.
Mark sees me frozen in place on the other side of the couch. I should run over there, grab his arms, stop him from hurting his brother further. There will be ramifications to this—of that I’m sure. But I don’t know how to stop him, and I don’t know if I want to. From my perspective, Brian deserves worse than a few hits to the face.
Mark’s eyes are full of raw anger, but when they meet mine, they refocus and soften. He pauses in his pursuit of beating the shit out of his brother.
“This one’s for you,” Mark whispers, then he backhands his brother across the face, leading with his knuckles. Brian spits out a mouthful of blood as Mark stands, opens the door, and walks down the stairs leading back to his penthouse.