Defined By Deceit

Leslie was quiet on their way home, and Llew dreaded having this conversation with him, but it had to be done. His brother was losing his accounts all over town because of him. If they continued like this, the business would go under. He was going to have to stop working for him. They quietly retrieved their lunch containers and thermoses from the truck, and tiredly dragged themselves up their driveway.

His brother threw up his hand in greeting to his seventy-year-old neighbor Mr. Healy, but the gesture was not returned. “Old geezer,” his brother grumbled, dropping his bag just inside the front door.

Llew sat down at the kitchen table, picking at the dirt under his nails. “Les. We need to talk.”

With his brow scrunched in concentration, his brother rifled through the bills as he sat across from him. “About what?”

“Look. I know what’s going on with the accounts, Leslie. You can’t hide it, and the guys are talking. Actually, more like bitching, about it.”

“Speaking of accounts. Here you go.” His brother interrupted; a wide grin on his face. “It’s payday.”

Llew took the folded envelope his brother pulled from his pocket and laid it flat on the table. “Keep it.”

“What?”

“Keep it.” Llew slid it back across the table to him. “For the accounts you lost because of me.”

“I didn’t lose any—”

“Don’t lie. I’m quitting, Les.”

“The hell you are. You can’t quit a business you own.”

“The business is yours. I’m gonna apply for some construction jobs I saw in the paper last week.”

“No, Llew!”

“I’m sorry, Les. I won’t let you, or the guys who depend on working for you, suffer because of me. They have families to take care of. I’ll find something.”

His brother put his hand over the envelope and slid it back to him. “Let’s not make any rash decisions right now. I have a date tonight, I’m going to go and unwind from a very long workweek. I’ll be staying over at her place tonight. Maybe you should ummm… go to that new club over in Petersburg.”

“I’m good,” Llew said, getting up to avoid a very uncomfortable conversation. His brother trying to send him off to a gay bar to get laid was not even a little okay.

“Llew, don’t walk away.” Leslie got up to follow him.

“I’m not about to talk about this with you, dude.”

“Why not? We’re brothers, man.”

“Exactly.”

“Llew.”

Leslie came and sat next to him in the living room. He tried not to make eye contact, as he repeatedly clicked the remote to find a distraction. His brother’s eyes bored into the side of his head.

“It’s been two weeks, Llewellyn. Don’t you want to have a little fun? You know… make love to someone? Or is… is there… m-maybe someone you miss from—”

Llew bolted up off the couch, his eyes blazing with anger. “For fuck’s sake, Leslie. No! I didn’t fall in love while I was in prison with a bunch of other criminals. I didn’t even—” Llew threw the remote back on the couch and left the room. He heard his brother’s quick footsteps behind him, then a light tapping on the door.

“Llew that was stupid of me. I’m sorry. I’m gonna head out after I shower. She lives in Gloucester, so I’ll be back about noon tomorrow, okay? Okay, Llew? I’m sorry.”

Llew stood silently as he stared out his small bedroom window overlooking a vacant lot. It’s how he felt inside. Vacant, desolate, like no one had time to be bothered with him. He was sitting on his bed in the dark, his eyes still focused on nothing, when he heard the front door open and close. Falling back on the bed with a resigned exhalation, he thought about what his brother said. Make love to someone. God, yes he did want that. He’d love nothing more. To just hold someone close to his chest, feel a man’s hot skin against his. His strong muscles; and hard thighs around him. Someone to simply whisper something… anything sexy in his ear. He brought his watch up to his face. It was a little after seven. He could be showered, changed, and in Petersburg in a couple hours. No, this is crazy. Who’d want to get in bed with a rapist? Hmm. Petersburg. No one would recognize me there. In a gay bar, almost an hour from town. I wouldn’t run into anyone I know, and it’s just one night.

Chapter Eleven

He’d been sitting in his brother’s truck outside The Brickhouse Run for almost an hour. The bright red brick building sat off Cockade Alley, and Llew had actually chuckled when the GPS announced the street. Typical, he’d thought. The surrounding area looked fine, not much else located around this part. He’d watched the party goers enter and exit the large building, too unsure to go in himself. He figured he was dressed okay judging by what others were wearing. He’d stopped at the outlets on his way there and bought a couple pieces, so he wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb in clothes that didn’t fit. His charcoal V-neck sweater clung nicely to his broad chest, the saleswoman saying it brought out the mysterious darkness in his eyes. The black jeans had also been suggested by her. He’d closely shaved his cheeks, trimmed his goatee, and left a nice bit of length on his beard. He fingered the course hair as he watched another couple of guys walk into the dimly lit club. Okay, I look like a fuckin’ creep sitting out here.