“You got away. What happened to the guy who was waiting?”
“He didn't come out of it so well.”
Alex looked at him. He could feel himself not wanting to understand the implications of that last sentence. But he couldn't force the realization away. “You… you killed someone, at our house?” he managed.
“There's nothing there anymore, if that's what you're worried about.”
“Well… yes, that is what I'm worried about.”
“Great. Then you can stop worrying.”
“But… shit, Ben, if this was self-defense, and I'm sure it was, we could have called the police! They would have believed us. There would have been… you know, there would have been a body. They would have taken us seriously, they would have to.”
“Alex, self-defense is just that-a defense. I'm not going to get charged with murder and then hope a good lawyer will convince a jury my defense is valid. You're dreaming.”
“Goddamn it, Ben, you just blew our best chance!”
Ben stood up from the bed. “I blew it? I drop three people in two days who are trying to kill you, and that's blowing it? You're not happy with my performance, is that it, Alex? You want me to, what, go to prison for you? Tell me, what the fuck do you want?”
They stood staring at each other. Sarah said, “Look, the question is, what do we do now?”
Alex only half heard her. He was so pissed he didn't know what to do. His cocky, know-it-all brother, doing whatever the hell he wanted to, never consulting anyone, never mind the consequences.
“I have a way of finding out more about the guy Alex is so upset about,” Ben said. “That is, if Alex approves.”
Alex felt about a second away from telling him, Fuck you, just fuck you, then walking away and taking his chances with whatever happened after. Anything but more help from this prick he wished had never been born.
Sarah said, “I'm going to go next door so you guys can talk.” She went back to her room and closed the common door behind her.
Alex looked at Ben. “Why do you have to be such a dick?”
Ben shook his head disgustedly. “You're unbelievable.”
Alex stalked over to the wall. Why couldn't he get through to him? Why wouldn't he ever just listen?
He looked down at the pile of clothes on the floor. There was something funny about the shirt. He couldn't place what.
He leaned down a little. The buttons, that's what was funny. They were all gone.
What the hell? Why would the buttons on Ben's shirt…
Understanding flooded through him.
The robes. The weird feeling when Sarah had walked in. The way she'd been quiet. The way she and Ben had dropped all the rancor.
He looked at the bed. There was no depression in the pillow. The sheets weren't creased. The covers had been thrown back, that's all, thrown back by someone in a hurry, someone trying to create the quick and superficial appearance that he had slept there.
That he had slept alone.
He looked at Ben. “You… you didn't,” he heard himself say.
Ben held his gaze for a moment, then looked away.
“Oh, my God. You did.”
Ben licked his lips. “Look, after I got ambushed at your house-”
“What the hell does that have to do with it?”
“It's a post-combat thing, you get crazy.”
“What are you going to tell me-after you killed someone, you had to have sex with Sarah? You didn't have a choice? Which-don't say it-it's some soldier thing I couldn't understand. Is that it? Have I got it right?”
Ben sighed. “Alex, I'm sorry.”
And hearing those empty words, suddenly Alex hated him. Hated him more than ever. Hated him for everything he'd caused, for making Alex need him, for using the opportunity to…
“You're not sorry!” Alex bellowed, jabbing a finger at him. “You're never sorry. No matter what you do, no matter what you cause, you're never sorry!”
“What are you talking about? I just told you I was sorry.”
“Oh, bullshit.”
“Then what do you want from me, Alex? Tell me, right now, what the fuck do you want?”
“Nothing. There's nothing I want from you.”
“Yeah, well, that's good. Because I don't owe you anything. And you've never been grateful for it anyway. All you know how to do is complain, assuming you even notice what I do for you in the first place.”
“What you do for me? Jesus Christ, how can anyone be this blind?”
“Blind?” Ben said. “I'm blind? All I do is save your ass when you get in over your head. It's just like school, only now the people who are after you aren't just going to beat you up, they're going to kill you, and you think you have some kind of right to my protection, so much of a right it doesn't even occur to you to say thank you for it. Well, I'm sick of it. It's the same old shit and I'm sick of it.”
“You want me to be grateful to you because you fended off a few high school bullies, Ben? You killed Katie. You killed her. Why don't you just-”
Ben moved in so fast Alex didn't have time to react. He hit Alex in the chest with both hands and Alex flew backward into the wall behind him. His head ricocheted against the plaster and he saw stars. Ben grabbed him by the fabric of the shirt and shoved him against the wall, his knuckles digging into his throat. Alex grabbed Ben's wrists and tried to tear them away, but it was useless. He couldn't speak. He couldn't breathe. Ben was roaring something incoherent, his breath hot on Alex's face, his teeth bared. Alex drew his arm back to punch him but the wall was right behind him and he couldn't get any leverage. He hit Ben in the jaw but it did nothing. He felt his lungs spasming for air and thought, Oh God, he's trying to kill me, he's really going to kill me, and he panicked. He brought a knee up but Ben's hips were turned, his groin out of reach. He clawed at Ben's hands, then at his face. The force of the knuckles grinding into his throat worsened.
A distant part of his mind whispered, Gun. Gun. Gun.
He groped blindly for the gun in his pocket. The contours of the room seemed to be receding behind Ben's face, clots of gray creeping in at the edges of everything.
Gun. Gun. Gun…
Ben shot a knee into his balls. There was an explosion of pain in his abdomen, a burst of light behind his eyes. Ben stepped away from him and he fell to the floor, choking and retching.
Ben squatted down and pulled the gun out of Alex's pocket, then stepped away from him.
“What are you going to do, Alex, you going to shoot me? Is that what you want to do?”
Alex managed to get to his knees. He clutched his throat and his stomach and sucked in a single sickening gasp of air.
“You want to shoot me?” Ben said again. “You think I killed Katie? And Dad? And Mom? You think it's all my fault? Well, here's your chance to avenge them. Go ahead.”
There was a solid thunk on the carpet next to him. He glanced over and saw the gun Ben had taken from him.
He wheezed and fought the urge to vomit. I'll kill you, he thought.
“Come on, tough guy,” Ben said. “Don't have the courage of your convictions?”
Alex picked up the gun and pointed it at Ben's face. He imagined squeezing the trigger, imagined Ben flying backward from the force of the bullet hitting him.
“That's it,” Ben said. “That's the way. Go ahead, Alex. I'm the guy who killed our whole family, right? I did it all, it's all my fault. Go ahead.”
Just pull the trigger. Pull the trigger. Wipe that smirk off his face for good.
Ben shook his head disgustedly. “I'm not going to wait forever, asshole. This is your chance. If you want to take the shot, take it.”
Alex pulled himself to his feet, still sucking wind. He hated that Ben wasn't even afraid. More than anything,
