Page 15 of Vicious Butterfly
It pisses me off that Luke’s falling for it. But fine, he needs proof that I love him? I’ll do that, too. Yeah, I’m dragging my feet about it, but who skips into their prison willingly? And I have to be smart about it, calculated. Trust is for idiots. I want control. Whoever I choose has to be naïve and easily pleased. Shouldn’t be too hard to find. I’m handsome, charming when I want to be, and I have enough money to keep someone happy for a long time.
My brother looks me up and down, sighing. “Why are you making it sound like such a chore? You’ve always wanted to get married; this speeds up the timeline.”
Fake Tate has always wanted to get married. Not me. I’d rather have all my nails ripped off with a set of tweezers. Until Uncle Jasper set his trap, my grand plan was to be “unlucky in love,” so I’d never have to get married. But I hate the guilt in my brother’s eyes. Knowing Luke, he doesn’t even want the money; he wants it for me.
His love and adoration for me are unconditional, aren’t they? If I told him everything, he’d understand, wouldn’t he?
And he’d hate himself.
He’d blame himself.
He’d never take the money, and he earned that money. If nothing else, I’ll take my secrets to my grave so he’ll keep it.
“You know me, bro. I’ve been unlucky in love. Just worried I won’t find someone suitable in time. But I’m looking. Got a hot date tonight,” I lie, leaning back in my chair. And, I mean, it might not even be a lie. Icouldfind someone where I’m going. Just … probably not.
Luke moves around the kitchen, taking out ceramic mugs to pour our take-out coffee into.
“Tell me more about your first day with McKinnon,” I say.
Ceramic clangs into ceramic. Clumsy. Did his hand slip? Luke clears his throat. “What about McKinnon? Did he say something to you?”
Interesting.
“McKinnon wouldn’t dare say anything to me about you.” Sometimes, McKinnon uses the two brain cells he has floating around in his skull.
Luke places the steaming cup in front of me, and I take a careful sip. This needs alcohol.
“I suppose not. I just … my actions were inappropriate. I singled him out and made him write lines for showing up whenever the fuck he wanted.”
A laugh rumbles from my chest.
“It’s not funny.”
But it is. You’re not supposed to give lines to college students, but sounds like McKinnon did them anyway. And why could that be…? Bet he wants to fuck my brother.
Luke sits across from me, his large form, bigger than mine, something unique to Luke. Not many people are bigger than I am. Has he kept up with the boxing?
“It is. McKinnon deserves it.”
“He did. Didn’t say I was sorry. Since you asked about it again, I thought maybe you were worried I’d done something to get you in trouble.”
I laugh. “Nope. Entertained. It’s about time someone took McKinnon in hand.”
“Well, I have a plan. He won’t say a word, I promise. You have nothing to worry about. Do you want to know the plan?”
I shake my head. “Nah. I trust you, bro.”
I stand by trust being for idiots, but I’m an idiot when it comes to my brother.
4
RYAN
Mid-September
My lungs burn, and my body wants to retch, but I fight it down. The stink of puke from the benches, from teammates who’ve already tossed their cookies, doesn’t help. I wait for the whistle that never comes, a reflex leftover from what I’d come to expect from normal practices, normal coaches. Even the NHL wasn’t like this. North Point, in general, is its own caliber of Hell. North Point hockey is next-level torture.
“Do you want to continue to play hockey, Ryan?” Father said.
