Maybe it was the wind, I think to myself, waiting for a few minutes, still not hearing anything. Slowly opening my bedroom door, I listen for another sound. I’ve never met any of them personally, but I highly doubt they look like my brother’s friends. I’ll stick to my Warcraft guilds and gamebattle friends. I don’t know crap about motorcycle gangs, but what I do know, I want no part of. As much as it pisses me off that he expects me to call if I am coming home early, I did after that because I don’t have the urge to run into his friends ever again. It was left to both of us by our grandma, but he hadn’t lived here for years. I had to call before I came home to my own house? This house is equally ours. Dusty pulled me aside and scolded me for coming home early and interrupting him in whatever it was he was doing.
The feelings they gave me made my blood run cold. I came home early one night to find him and three other men in the living room, and after that, I’m not taking any chances. No, I am scared of who he hangs around with. I’ve been keeping it in the drawer since my brother moved back home. I open the bedside drawer and pull out my grandfather’s revolver. I wait another second, just to be sure I’m not freaking out, but then I hear another sound. I left it in the living room along with my laptop. I reach for my phone on the night stand and come up empty. Pulling the covers back on the bed, I start to crawl under when I hear a noise coming from the front of the house. He put our grandma, who raised us, through hell until she took her last breath. I don’t even know what he does for a living, but he always appears to have a ton of cash just as quickly as he seems to be broke. We’re twins, but while I went to college, made perfect grades, and wanted nothing to do with sex, parties, and drugs, that’s all Dusty seems to do. How we both shared a womb at one time, I have no idea.
My brother and I couldn’t be more different. I spend my days working and my nights with my nose stuck in a book. He has a way of falling into it, and I know for a fact he’s mixed up with a motorcycle gang now. No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to keep my brother out of trouble. That takes things out of my hands, and I don’t have to decide if I’m willing to fork over the money to bail him out.
He won’t be out until he sees the judge, and there’s nothing I can do for him until that point. Sadly, I was actually relieved when I got the call from the police department to tell me my brother was in jail.
Maybe I can finally catch up on some sleep. At least I have the next few days off from the clinic. Even after my shower, I still feel the day coating me. S itting on the end of the bed in the dark, I rub my eyes, trying to relieve a little bit of the tension.
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