HUGE X2 (17 page)

“Sammie.” I can hear the moment she realizes it’s me
in the way her breath hitches.

“Bran?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“I didn’t think I was gonna hear from you again.”

“I didn’t think I was going to call.”

“But you did.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Are you okay?” she asks, worry changing her voice.

“Yeah,” I lie.
 
“I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Oh.”

“Were you sleeping?” I ask, getting a mental picture
of her tucked up in her big white bed, blonde hair spread over the crisp white
pillows, wearing a soft pink satin nightdress.
 
Everything sweet and warm and as far from my reality as I can imagine.

“Yeah but it doesn’t matter.
 
I’m glad you called.”

“Sammie…”
 
I
start, but I don’t know what to say.
 
I
don’t know why the fuck I called except that I wanted to hear her voice and
feel the connection again that tugs at the empty hole in my chest and makes it
feel less like a big black cave.
 

“Yeah, baby,” she says softly and my throat burns like
I might cry.
 
Fuck.
 
I haven’t cried since I was thirteen and some
eighteen-year-old kids kicked the shit out of me at school.

“What do you dream about?” I ask.
 
We used to talk about our dreams.
 
The real ones and our hopes for the
future.
 
She knew all my secrets and I
think I knew hers.

“Last night I dreamed about you,” she says quietly.
 
“It’s been a long time since you came to me
in my sleep.”

“And what did I do?” I ask, resting my empty hand
against my stomach.
 

“I kept seeing you across the street, and I’d try and
cross but there was a constant stream of traffic, and you wouldn’t look at
me.
 
You kept walking and I was shouting
and waving but you kept walking.”
 
She
sounds genuinely disturbed by the dream and I am too.
 
I don’t want her to feel like I don’t care
about her.
 

“Sammie…I…”

“It’s okay, Brandon.
 
I know it was just a dream.”

“Did you wake up sad?”

“Yeah, but not because of the dream.”

“Ah, honey.
 
I
don’t want to make you sad.”

“Bran…I just…I need…”
 
Sammie trails off and I’m impatient to know what she’s thinking and
feeling.
 

“What do you need?” I ask, the hairs prickling on my
forearms.
 
I blame it on the room’s cool
air but in my heart I know what I’m hoping she’s gonna say.

“I need you…” She says it so softly I press the phone
tight to my ear.
 

“Oh, baby,” I say.
 
How easy would it be to say I need her too?
 
Four words that feel so right in my heart but
wrong to my head.
 

“Do you regret it?” she asks.
 
“Do you regret what happened?”

I think about last night and the way I’d lost control,
that driving pulsing need I’d felt in my fingertips, lips and cock.

“We shouldn’t have…” I say.
 
“It was all the feelings, we were confused.”

“I don’t feel confused,” she says, and I blink,
shocked.
 
“I can’t stop thinking about
you and the way it felt to be with you like that.”

“Oh god,” I say as my cock twitches in my jeans. I
don’t know what I’m doing.
 

It’s wrong.
 
I
know this. But it feels anything but.
 

 
“I wanted…” She
trails off as I cup my erection, squeezing gently as everything comes to life,
feeling like I need to cover up the evidence of how much my body wants her from
the empty room, and from myself.

“What did you want?”

“I wanted you to stay…”

I sigh loudly and hear her shuffling around in the
background.
 
“I don’t know what I’m
doing,” I say, in a voice as quiet as hers.
 
I could have died tonight and thinking about never seeing her again
seems even more terrible than it had before.

“Bran…I’m here for you…whatever you need.”

“I
don’t know what I need,” I say but I don’t know if that’s true. I know I need
to get away.
 
I know I want Sammie in my
life. I know I want to live differently. I want to escape, but how can I when I
know I’ve lived a life that’s put me beyond the point of return?
 
I just have no idea how to get free without
fucking everything up in the process.

“You know…you just have to figure it out.”

“Sammie…”

“Yeah, Bran.”

“Tell me a secret.”
 
It’s a game we used to play.
 
I
never felt worried about sharing with her because she never judged.
 
Sammie made it alright for me to just be
myself.

“Mmmm…” She shuffles around again and her breathing
gets louder, as though she’s turned onto her side and pressed the phone
closer.
 
“It’s been a long time. I have
lots of secrets now.”

“Tell me one.
 
Help me forget what’s going on right now.”

“Well, how about this?
 
After you left I used to sleep with a photo of you on my pillow.”

I exhale loudly.
 
I didn’t take a picture of Sammie with me.
 
I knew it would have made things harder for
me but for years I would think of her just before I feel asleep.
 

“Why did you stop?”

“Who says I did?” She laughs softly, keeping her voice
low and mellow.
 
“I guess I stopped when
I realized that you wouldn’t look like the picture anymore. When the boys in my
school that were your age started to look like men I couldn’t imagine you
accurately anymore.”

“And now you can.”

“Now I can.” She sighs.
 
“Bran, we’re not gonna end up strangers again
are we?”

“I don’t want that, Sammie, but I just don’t know…”

“When we were together it was like…I felt more in
those few seconds than I ever have with anyone before.”

I groan, remembering the frantic feelings that had
surged inside me and the terrible stillness I forced onto myself.
 
The hand that’s on my cock squeezes
again.
 
“I know.”

“Tell me a secret, Bran,” she says, seeming to
understand my discomfort.

I have too many to count and so many I could never
share with my upstanding stepsister.
 
“I…” I falter, wanting to tell her something so she understands how much
she means to me because I might not get another chance.
 
“I never loved anyone the way I love you,” I
say, and then, “I’ve got to go, Sammie, okay?”

“Don’t,” she whispers.

“I have to…” I hang up before either of us can say
anything else.
 
I hold my phone against
my chest and imagine her settling back down into her bed, hoping that she’ll
get back to sleep and not lie awake thinking too much. After a few minutes I
get up and take a shower, putting my boxers back on after and flopping into bed
myself.
 

Some days are just too fucked up to fathom.
 
It wasn’t my day to die but it’s closer than
I’ve ever come before. I remember a quote from a book I read as a kid…Alice in
Wonderland, I think it was.
 
Alice asks
the rabbit ‘how long is forever,’ and he replies, ‘sometimes just a
second.’
 
Tonight, that could have been
my reality and now time seems more precious than it ever did before.
 
I need to find a way to make whatever time I
have left count but I won’t put Sammie at risk, no matter how much I might want
her.

Chapter 9

Samantha

I
hardly slept after Brandon cut our call short.
 
When I did my dreams were surreal and they left me feeling strange the
next day.
  
I was up and out of my
apartment quickly, wanting to get to the office so I could arrange more
surveillance on Brandon.
 
There was
something very wrong about last night.
 
He sounded bad.
 
He’d been too in
need of company or comfort when only hours earlier he’d been so determined that
we weren’t going to be in contact. I wonder what happened to him to make him
break his conviction.
 
What changed his
mind?

Maybe it was just a one-time thing.

I hope it wasn’t with a fierceness that makes me tremble.

John, the P.I., is busy with another case but he has a
friend called Dirk who takes the job.
 
I
arrange three days of surveillance with a review at 7pm each day so we can
decide what to do next.
 
If they can
identify Brandon’s known associates I might be able to cross check their
records for criminal convictions and get an idea of what’s really going
on.
 
I feel better too, knowing someone
will have eyes on Brandon.
 
It’s like a
layer of protection and makes me feel less helpless about his situation.

I have a full workload but by lunchtime I’m feeling
lightheaded and in need of a break.
 
I
take the elevator down to my favorite deli and sit at the counter sipping an
iced tea while I wait for them to prepare my sandwich.
 
The TV is on in the corner and something
about an earthquake overseas comes on.
 
I’m straining to see the details when a man takes a seat on my
right.
 

“Terrible isn’t it,” he says, reaching across to get
the packets of sugar that are in front of me.

I look over at him.
 
He’s in his forties, dressed a little casual for this part of town, but
he smiles widely with friendly eyes that crinkle at the side.

“Yeah, where is that?” I ask.

“Nepal,” he says.
 
“Those poor countries always seem to suffer the worst luck.”

“Yeah,” I say and reach to stir my drink
absentmindedly with the straw.
 
I go back
to watching the TV, seeing the estimated casualties and sighing at the terrible
loss.
 
The man at my side orders an
espresso and sips it carefully.

Adriano, the owner of the deli, hands me my sandwich and
I take a bite.
 
It’s delicious and I eat
it slowly, still feeling light headed from rushing about.
 
The man at my side keeps talking, telling me
about the places he’s visited in Southeast Asia and how beautiful they
are.
 
It’s interesting because I’ve never
been to that part of the world and would love to travel more.
 

When I’m getting to the end of my sandwich I start to
feel strange. It’s weird because I really love the taste of mozzarella and
tomato with a basil dressing but the last few bits seem off, almost
metallic.
 
I place it down on my plate
and take a big drink of iced tea, trying to wash my mouth clean.
 
I glance back at the TV but I can’t seem to
focus on the screen and I’m suddenly really hot.

I don’t feel good.
 
I must say it out loud because the man next to me puts his arm around my
shoulder protectively and says I must need some fresh air.
 
He offers to help me back to my office.
 
I feel an arm putting pressure on my
back.
 
Then I’m on my feet and walking
toward the door.
 
The air outside is
muggy.
 
I feel like I’m underwater.
 
The man has his arm tightly around me
now.
 

“It’s okay.
 
I’ll take care of you,” he says.
 
That sounds good because I don’t know where I am…I can’t seem to figure
out how to take care of myself.

A car horn hoots but it sounds muffled.

My feet feel like they’re dragging.

The traffic next to us blurs.
 

Chapter 10

Brandon

I
leave the hotel wearing my dirty clothes from the day before and go straight to
Adam’s place.
 
It’s early and he’s still
in his night shorts with bed hair and a sleep-creased cheek. I’m surprised he
hasn’t got a woman with him.
 
His
appetites don’t seem to wane with age.

“You’re early,” he says holding the door open and
looking over my shoulder to check there are no unwanted followers outside.
 
His gun is in his hand just in case.

“I need to borrow some clothes,” I say.
 

Adam looks me over. “You haven’t been home yet?”

“Nah, I stayed at Red’s last night.”

“That place is a shithole,” he grunts.

I nod.
 

His house isn’t anything impressive.
 
He likes to stay low-key which is, I suppose,
how he’s managed to evade police interest for so long.
 
His off-shore accounts must be pretty healthy
because he’s still riding his old Harley and I don’t see him splashing the cash
around, other than on pretty clothes for whatever woman he has hanging
around.
 

Adam goes into his bedroom which is at the back of the
house and I walk into the kitchen, noting how clean and tidy it is.
 
For a lifetime bachelor, Adam knows how to
look after himself.
 
I take a carton of
juice from the fridge and poor myself a glass.
 
He has some protein bars in the cupboard and I take two, wolfing them
down.
 
Adam returns with a black t-shirt
and some clean boxers and socks.
 
It all
feels very domesticated, and I get a flash of our first few days together, and
his basic attempts to care for me as a twelve-year-old.

I go to the bathroom and change, chucking my dirty
clothes into his washing basket. He pays Jared’s mom to come in once a week to
sort out the big jobs.
 

When I get back to the kitchen Adam’s sipping from a
mug of coffee, leaning against the counter.

“Tell me exactly what happened,” he says, so I
do.
 
Every little detail I can
remember.
 
He says nothing and when I’m
done, he nods.

“It was definitely those fuckers from the north,” he
says.
 
“They’re operating up there but
they obviously think it’s time to expand.
 
Fuckers think they can come in and piss all over me,” he growls.

“So what are you going to do?” I ask.

“We need to do the deal with Leon today. He’s spooked
so I’ve arranged a different point for exchange.” I nod.
 
“And then we’re gonna take these sons of
bitches down a peg or two.”

“I should fucking hope so.
 
When’s the drop?” I ask.

“Connor has the details.
 
Go and pick him up, then drive around a
bit.
 
Go get a coffee or something.
 
The drop is in four hours.”

“Okay,” I say.
 
It’s the same bullshit, just a different day, except it doesn’t feel
that way.
 
I don’t feel so flippant about
letting time slip through my fingers.
 
I’ve got to find a way out of this, before my future ends up nothing but
a second.