The Grim Room (chapter 5)

My thriller novel continued...

Photo by Emiliano Bar on Unsplash

CHAPTER 5

His brother was waiting when he returned. Arms crossed over his chest, Julian’s face was all scrunched up like wanted to chuck a hatchet at Chris’s head. His hair was combed straight back and the beard seemed somber. He wore a black San Francisco Giants shirt, with WORLD SERIES CHAMPIONS in white lettering, and the interlocking orange S and F letters, which reminded Chris of the F and S and P interlocked for Folsom.

Chris walked past him, dropping the keys in the ashtray. Julian grabbed the keys and shoved them into his pocket.

“What are you gonna do, huh? Run around all day looking for her?” Julian said.

Chris leaned against the wall, lit a smoke, exhaled and flicked a random hair off of his chin. He ran his fingers through his mop. “I can’t believe you’re dealing coke, bro. And selling to Silver? Didn’t you learn anything while I was away?”

Julian ignored the comment. “Look. You can’t steal my car. Ok? You can ask to borrow it. But you can’t steal it.”

Chris puffed again. Fighting his brother, he realized, was not on his agenda. The fighting between them was new. They’d fought as teens, after their parents’ car crash, but soon Chris had been in his own world, selling and swimming in a bottle. And he loved Julian, dearly. They were on the same team. Action needed to be taken: an AA meeting was #1.

“I need my Glock,” Chris sputtered.

Julian bit his lip. “It’s on the table next to your prison duffel bag. I left it there this morning.”

“Thanks for stashing it all these years, bro.”

“You’re family, Chris. What was I supposed to do, sell it?”

Chris felt another rush of resentment. Heat crept into his flushed cheeks. “Goddamn, Jules. I get out of State for slanging and you pick up the craft?”

“I—”

“Do you have any idea how hard I’ve had to think about what I did, about the life I’d been living, about changing my ways?” Chris said. “Huh? Maybe you need to come to a meeting with me, brother.”

“I’m not an addict, Chris, I’ve got it under control. I’m not like you.”

“Right. Sure. Just keep the shit away from me,” Chris said.

Julian jangled the keys in his pocket. He walked cautiously past Chris. “I’m going out to do some…errands.” Chris didn’t respond. “You need to calm down, brother. Get over this shit and figure yourself out. I love you, Christopher. I always have. But this is my apartment. It’s my car, my choices, my life. Frankly, if I want to sell drugs, I will. I know where you’ve been the last two years. And I know where I ain’t going. Don’t worry about me.”