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Big Man Next Door

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Ian stills, his eyes moving back and forth over mine. Licking his lips, he starts to speak. “I—”

“What the fuck is going on?” A voice booms in from behind us.

Ian's head jerks up, his eyes growing large. Tilting my head back, my heart freezes in my chest.

Fuck, this doesn't look good.

12

Ian

Quickly jumping off Heather, I pull my pants up. “Grey, what the hell are you doing here?” Buckling the belt, I move toward my brother.

From the corner of my eye, I see Heather yank her shirt down, and grab the throw blanket off the couch to wrap herself in.

Grey's eyes veer as he looks back and forth between us. “What the fuck, Ian! Are you kidding me! Are you fucking kidding me!” He grabs an empty bucket and tosses it across the room. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Look, Grey, I get it—”

Cutting the air with his hand, he yells, “No! No, you don't fucking get it!” He holds out his arms, and spins in the room. “You broke our promise, you're smearing our mother's name by doing this shit! And her!” he yells, pointing directly at me. “What the hell, bro! You're just lying all over the place, breaking promise after promise.”

“Don't, don't you dare make it out like I'm doing anything wrong. This place is falling apart, Heather was robbed! For Christ’s sake, she could have been killed!”

“Stop, just fucking stop. This place is supposed to crumble, it's supposed to turn to dust. That's what we said we'd do, that's the promise we both made.” Slamming his finger into my chest, his lips fold into an angry scowl. “You destroyed it. All this shit goes against everything we stand for. Her included.” He slams the new door, and it bounces back open.

“You're being a stubborn asshole, Grey. Stop and listen to yourself.”

“Fuck you, Ian, I can't even look at you right now.” Storming past me, he lets his shoulder bounce off of mine as he walks out the door.

“Grey, come on. Are you really going to just walk away right now?”

“Yup!” he yells from the hall.

“Fine, fuck you then! You're acting like a child!” I scream out the door at him.

I catch a glimpse of the top of his head as he stomps down the stairs, his middle finger held high so I can see it. The front doors swing open loudly and crash shut. Turning around, I stroke my jaw as set the other hand on my hip.

“Fuck,” I say loudly to myself, pacing in a small circle.

“Are you okay?” Heather asks, sitting down on the couch.

“I don't know why he has to act like this. I know what we said, but that was years ago, things change.” Stopping short, I flick my eyes up. “Right? Things are never really set in stone?”

“Of course,” she answers, getting up and coming over to me. Taking my hand in hers, she smiles. “People change. I'm not the same person I was five years ago, two years ago—shit, I'm not the same person I was a day ago. Things change, people change, that's just human nature. I'm sure he'll come around.”

“I don't know. Grey is stubborn. He always has been.”

Heather doesn't know Grey like I do. He's set in his way and has been since we were kids. I know him, he doesn't forget easily. He takes things to heart, feeling them so intensely that the littlest thing can still be burned into his memory.

“He's your brother, that's what you need to make him remember. It's not what you do, or what you say, or what you think. Family is family, blood doesn't change.”

“We are all each other has, but it feels like I'm the only who sees that.” I feign a smile, exhaling a heavy breath. “Don't worry, I'll figure it out. For now I'm going to finish up the door, and then tomorrow I'll come back and sand and paint the areas on the ceiling.”

Flipping into work mode, I move on autopilot. Fixing the door, I hand her the keys. “I'm going to go home, shower, maybe take a nap. Are you good for right now?”

“Yeah, I'm good. I want to tune my new guitar.” Grinning, she bounces her brows.

Forcing a smile, I say, “I'm really glad you like it.” Standing in the doorway, I hold the doorknob in my hand. “I'll text you later.”

Heather leaves me alone for the rest of the day. I hear her tune her guitar, singing softly in her apartment. I can't focus on anything. Lying in bed, I toss and turn, unable to even get a few minutes of sleep.

Napping isn't in the cards right now.

I know exactly what I can do to get my mind off my brother. I can fix some shit around here.

Working with my hands has always been a godsend. It relaxes me, it helps me clear my head. Gathering some stuff from the basement and my truck, I fix a few broken light fixtures in the hall, re-secure the handrails, and stabilize the stairs.



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