“Haven’t fucking seen you in years. Even then, you couldn’t bother to give me the time of day. Too busy bouncing on Gordon’s dick to notice your little brother.”
I took the brunt of his words, shoving the pain that followed down as quickly as I could, keeping my face neutral. “You know where my money is, Marcus,” I said calmly. “You withdrew over twenty grand from my account two days ago.”
He scoffed, rolling his eyes and raising the whiskey to his cracked hips. “You don’t know fucking shit.”
My eyes dropped to the bottle, noting how it was the cleanest object on this property. “You buy that fancy bottle with my money, Marcus?”
The bottle fell away from his face lazily and a cocky smirk formed. “Damn right I fucking did. It’s been a minute since I’ve had the taste of quality on my tongue.” His eyes did a quick scan of me again. “Looks like you’ve known that taste for a long time, haven’t you, sis?” he sneered.
“I’m only going to ask you this once, and if you don’t answer, I’m going to the cops: Where is my money?”
He shook his head, unbothered, before taking a second swig, his Adam’s apple bobbing. I bit down, grinding my teeth as my nails dug into my palms. Any longer, and I was sure to draw blood. “You aren’t going to go to the cops. We both know you don’t have the balls,” he murmured, laughing again. “Jesus, if Dad could see you know, he’d be so disappointed.”
“Because I’m not a drugged-up failure like you?” I quipped.
“What did you just say to me?”
“I didn’t stutter.”
He stepped out onto the porch, pointing at me with the mouth of the bottle. “Watch your tone, bitch,” he threatened.
I kept my feet planted, staring at him while trying to remind myself that his condition, the way his life turned out, was not my fault in the slightest. I did what I could as a child—as an older sister—but there was nothing more for me to do. He wasn’t my responsibility, and truthfully, never had been. I just loved him too much to let him go, but now, I realized that I should’ve let him go a long time ago.
“Marcus, please,” I pushed, my voice still level. “Answer the question.”
He snapped then, slamming the bottle onto the porch between us, his eyes like flames. Shards of glass and whiskey hit my Docs, but I didn’t falter, unyielding as he lost his mind. “You told me I could have that money whenever I fucking needed it! Well, I fucking need it, and now you’re wanting it back?”
“That’s not what my letter said to you, Marcus.”
His hands shot up, going into this thin hair, gripping the remaining strands as he screamed at me. “I needed the money! Can’t you just get more from whatever fancy-ass pedestal you climbed down from?”
“That money was for my final semester of school,” I said evenly, my throat burning. “You had no right.”
“I had every fucking right,” he seethed, lunging forward. I toggled back, stumbling down the steps. “You’re my family!”
I shook my head. “No,” I whispered. “We stopped being family the second chose the needle over me.”
Marcus stomped down the steps, charging for me, teeth bared. “You want your money back, then you need to go get it from the person I owed it to.”
I went numb then. “Owed it to?” I repeated.
He threw his arms out, as if that summed everything up. “Your brother was in a bind, and you came through. Be proud of that.”
My upper lip curled, my stomach in knots as tears formed against my will. I was at my breaking point, and he got proof of that when I wailed, “Where is my money, Marcus?”
His hand shot out before I could deflect, the back of it connecting with my face, the force of his hit taking me to the ground. I fell back into a pile of trash, empty oil cans, and milk jugs. I covered my cheek, the sting radiating through my temple and jaw as I glared up at him. His chest was heaving, but it was the look in his eyes that scared me the most.
It was the same look our father used to have when he needed to use me as a punching bag.
“Hey!” my driver called. “Back the fuck away from her!”
From behind me, I heard the car door slam, but I couldn’t look away from the monster standing above me.
“You want your money, take your whore ass over to Gordon’s, hop back on his dick, and work for it. My account with him is all caught up, and his fucking boys are finally off my fucking back,” he explained, his breath choppy. “Thought my big sister would understand that, have some fucking compassion for me.”
I’d been wrong.
My world hadn’t fallen apart this afternoon.