Pan's Salvation (Dueling Devils 5)

“Hartley, you have to know that’s not my intent. I just don’t want you to end up like Dad.

Your drinking has never been this out of control. If I don’t say anything and you keep on the path, you’re traveling what then, huh?”

His words were salt in Pan’s open wounds. There was truth there, but he wouldn’t admit it.

“Funny I’ve been doing just fine. Great actually, until you showed up.”

“What, now you don’t want to see me?”

“I want you to just be my brother.”

“I am, you stupid fuck!” Monster roared.

“Hartley?” A voice cried.

“Fuck, look at what you did,” Pan hissed.

“Who is that?” Monster asked.

He wanted to be juvenile and

tell him none of your business. “That’s Lark, someone I met during my run for Demon.”

“And she’s here with you, why?” Monster asked.

“Pan?”

He turned and found Lark at the end of the hall. His shirt hung around her knees.

She looked from him to Monster and back. “Am I dreaming? Is this some David Lynch style musing?”

Monster snickered and Pan followed. “No babe, this is my twin brother, Monster.”

“Oh,” she whispered. “I—I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Are you okay?” Pan asked.

“Yeah, just a—bad dream. I’ll let you get back to it.” She turned and walked back to the room.

“What the fuck was that?”

Pan turned back to him. “You think you’re the only one allowed to find happiness?”

“I didn’t say that. I’ve never seen you like that with a female.

“You didn’t have to,” Pan said.

“Nothing I do or say is okay with you. I’m not the one with the problem…you are. I told you I didn’t’ hold anything against you. You need to hash that shit out with yourself.”

He opened his mouth to deliver a sharp come back and stopped. How could he sit here and bicker with his blood when she’d lost hers. “I hear you Hayes. I’m working on it, okay? My life’s been flipped upside down. It’s always been you and me and now it’s not. I held that secret in a long damn time. It’s an ugly puss-filled gash in my soul I need to air out. You have to let me do that. You found your happiness and I don’t fault you for that. But I need to learn to feel worthy of my own joy.”

“Hartley. That’s not you talking. That’s our old man. He was a mean fuck toward the end who put a lot of shit in our heads. If what I saw is correct. You might be sitting on your own gold mine, don’t fuck that up. I came by to see you were okay and I see that now. I’m going back home and I’ll see you Monday?”

“Yeah,” Pan muttered. He walked him out, turning his brother’s words over in his mind. The thought of being anything like his father frightened him.

Could I do to Lark, what he did to Mom?

His stomach soured. A headache threatened. He rubbed his temples. The thought of fucking up what could potentially be the best thing he’d ever stumbled upon. The burden rested heavily on his shoulders. He locked the door behind Monster and walked into the kitchen to deal the best way he knew how. Opening the fridge, he pulled out the familiar brown bottle and popped the top. The liquid ran down his throat. He closed his eyes and savored the flavor. Before he knew it, one turned to three and he was buzzing. This was the first time he’d gone to beer for escape in almost a month. Humiliation stung his pride. He was more like his father than he cared to admit.