Page 22 of Requiem

“That’s where you’re wrong, Jeremy,” I correct him calmly. “We are done. And I’m not just talking about this conversation. You and I … We. Are. Done.”

“You don’t mean that,” he dismisses me with his tone and his expression.

“I do,” I insist coolly. “There’s no coming back for you and me. I’ll never forgive you for letting Dad die.”

“Oh, please,” he scoffs, batting away my words with a flick of his wrist. “Dramatic much, Brett? He had a heart attack. Plain and simple.”

Mother. Fucker.

I take a step closer to him, a subtle reminder that I am still bigger and stronger than he is. That I could – and certainly would – kick his ass from here to Grand Rapids if necessary.

“Listen to me, little brother, and listen good. If you’re smart, you’ll make things work here in Detroit. You’ve got a great gig, and a nice life for yourself. There is absolutely no reason you can’t be happy here. As happy as you’re capable of being, anyway.”

He seems more amused by me than threatened. Time to change that dynamic. One more step and our chests are touching. My voice drops to a low, menacing rumble that comes from somewhere deep within my chest.

“Stay away from me. Stay away from Maggie. Stay away from Mom.”

“Or what?” he challenges, the corners of his mouth now curling up into a hideous grin.

“Believe me, Jeremy, you don’t want to find out. If you underestimate me, you’ll regret it.”

He shrugs with disinterest. “Whatever, Brett. Maybe I will stay away from you. Watching you isn’t nearly as interesting as, say, watching my son.”

I feel my heart jump right to my throat. To hear him utter those last two words is more jarring than anything else he could have possibly said. And he knows it.

“He’s getting big, isn’t he?” Jeremy continues, knowing full well that he’s struck a nerve. “Too bad he’s going to look like his Plain Jane mother. But who knows, maybe as he gets older …”

I grab my brother by the collar of his shirt and slam him against the brick wall of the building. Nobody seems to notice or care that there’s an altercation occurring right on the street. Just another Saturday night in Detroit.

“You like to think that you know me better than I know myself, right, Jeremy? If that’s true, then you will believe me when I tell you that your life won’t be worth shit if you get anywhere near that kid,” I warn, biting off each word and spitting it in his face. “You know I’ll do it, Jeremy.”

He smiles at me, but I can see the briefest flash in his eyes that tells me he does know. I let him drop to the ground and turn around, starting the walk back to the hotel. This time, he doesn’t try to stop me.