Don Vidal

30 - Not brotherly love

Marnie

After saying goodbye to my man, and him promising he won’t be late home tonight, Tony drops me home. I shower and change into fresh clothes, baggy pants, and a T-shirt because I’m feeling a little uncomfortable at the moment, just in time for Brooke to pick me up. She called me half an hour ago to tell me she’d pick me up. Her husband doesn’t demand she have a driver. I envy her sometimes.

We spent a couple of hours shopping and talking about my wedding dress. It will be simple, elegant, ivory, floor-length, silk, strapless, and beautiful. We shop for baby things because we can’t seem to find the right dress for my sister yet. So, I buy stuff for her little one and mine, not forgetting Gabriel. Brooke is a little annoyed that I spent so much on her children. I just laugh and tell her to enjoy it, it’s Draven’s money. That makes her laugh.

She drops me home, kisses my cheek, and waits for me to close the door before driving away. It makes me smile when she does that. I’m the elder sister, yet Brooke is the one looking out for me.

I’ve only put my shopping bags on the floor by the couch when the door knocks. I look through the peephole to see who it could be because Draven doesn’t like me answering the door to just anybody. He also doesn’t want people in the house when he’s not here. Not unless it’s a family member who comes by to visit.

It’s strange, really, because no one other than family should be able to get through the gates in order to knock on the door, never mind getting past the guard. So, naturally, my heart sinks when I see who it is. My big brother. Peter. I don’t want to see him, but I open the door in case he has news for me. News I’ve been waiting months for.

Maybe he’s taking me to see them?

I suddenly get a flutter in my heart. God, it’s been so long since I saw them.

“Marnie,” His tone is clipped, and the second he’s over the threshold, I know he’s not here to talk about what I hoped he’d come to talk about.

“How did you find me?”

I hadn’t called my brother to tell him where I was. I figured that, as he hadn’t taken me to see them in a while and wouldn’t be seeing them until their birthday in a couple of days, I had time to call him. Hell, I was actually going to call him the day before their birthday. He’s my only link to them now.

“Easy. Paul told me you were knocked up by another fuckin’ dago, and which one. I don’t need to ask where you met him. At that monkey-loving little sluts wedding, no doubt. Jumping into bed with the first man who showed you a little attention. You and Brooke really are two of a kind.” The sneer in his voice makes my stomach turn. I wish he wouldn’t refer to Hawk as a monkey. It is so vile!

If what he’s saying is true, he must have seen Paul, and Draven will hit the roof to know he’s still around and somehow managing to avoid us.

“Didn’t take me long to figure out where it lived.”

It?

Did he really just refer to Draven as it?

“Get your fuckin’ stuff, I’m taking you home to your husband.”

I won’t let him do this to me. I won’t let him drag me away from Draven. He’d fuckin.g find me in minutes, seconds if I wasn’t here when he got home. There’s no way on this earth Draven would just give up. He’d find me and kill everyone around me to bring me back here.

And the guard who clearly wasn’t doing his job to prevent anyone from getting close to me?

Well, I pity him when Draven finds out.

“No,” I fold my arms around myself in defiance. I am not the woman Peter remembers. Yes, I am scared because my brother is unpredictable. But I won’t bow down to him. “I’m divorcing Paul. I’m marrying Draven.”

“Like hell you are!”

“Yes! I am. I don’t want to be with Paul anymore.”

He takes a step toward me, and I swallow hard. “You’re really willing to risk those little ones for a filthy Italian prick?”

I swallow back another lump. “You know who Draven Vidal is, Peter. You know what he’ll do if he knows you’ve been here like this.”

Peter laughs maniacally, and it takes less than a second for me to know nothing good will come of this. I cannot fight a man as big as my brother, and I will not risk harming my baby. So, I turn and run up the stairs. This won’t end well, but there’s no way he's taking me anywhere.

My heart sinks when he yells, while chasing me, how he’ll never take me to see them again. How they’ll forget all about me, because if I don’t go with him, I really will never see them again, and is that what I really want? To lose them for good?

He knows how to play on my emotions and love for them.

What the hell do I do?

I can’t lose them for good. I can’t not see them when I’m supposed to. I made them a promise that we’d be together soon, that I’d bring them home with me, and that nobody would ever take them away from me again.

I should have told Draven the truth before I ever even agreed to this relationship. But I was so afraid that Paul would find out, or Draven would tell me I had to forget about them. I was a coward, and I will never forgive myself for that.

I had hoped I’d make it to my room to press the panic button on the wall, the one Draven told me, should I ever press, would have someone with me in seconds. I hoped I could push it; someone would be here, and they’d force my brother to tell them where they were so they could finally be here with me.

You can’t think about anything else but getting out of this right now, Marnie!

I hoped that my bodyguard would have noticed something was wrong, that he’d hear me yelling at Peter to get out and come and save me. But he clearly didn’t, and I wonder where the hell he is.

Funny the things you think about when you’re scared.

I don’t make it. Peter grabs hold of my hair, pulling me back. My hands shoot to his, trying to make him let go. He’s screaming at me, telling me he’s going to kick my unborn baby out of me, and how Paul will take me back, all I have to do is say sorry.

Peter needs me to return to Paul because my mother and brothers are about to lose the farm. I won’t go back! I can’t go back, not now. I scream it at him... Then everything goes... black.

* * *

I’ve been sitting beside my bed, my back against it, my legs flat in front of me, for the past hour, crying without making a sound. Tears streaming down my face. I’m a little in shock at what happened here, shocked that my brother did what he did, shocked that he obviously ran when I thought he would have carried me out of here. I don’t understand why he left me here when he was adamant that I had to return to Paul. But then, I guess he believed he’d killed me.

I don’t remember what happened as such; everything is so fuzzy in my brain. I’m shocked that Tom still hasn’t been in to check on me, though; it’s his job, after all.

I guess he’s not out there, or if he is, he thinks I’m fine and is just checking the house’s parameters and grounds to ensure everything is as it should be.

What if Peter hurt Tom on the way inside?

What if Tom is out there in as much pain as I am not able to call for help?

Nothing else makes sense as to how in the world Peter managed to get to me.

For an hour, I’ve been here in a world of my own, unable to do anything because I have no strength.

What the hell actually happened here?

I remember the knock at the door. I remember opening it to Peter. I remember him trying to force me to go back to Paul. Oh God, Peter wanted to kill my child and make me go back to my white husband.

I refused.

He got angry.

I remember…

Then it went dark for a couple seconds, my vision blurred, my head hurt. I heard voices in the background from where I was lying on the floor.

I’m not sure when my brother left, and I’m not sure just when my senses came back to me, or even if they have fully, but I’m shaking horribly. I’m feeling a little cold right now, even though it’s warm inside the house. I think all of my bones are banging together.

Yeah, I think I’m in shock.

My cell is ringing, and I’m aware that Draven will be home soon. I hope it’s soon because I’m scared of what’s happening to my head, it hurts so badly. I lift my shaking hand to my forehead and press down, wincing at the sting from the open wound just above my eye. I must have hit my head hard.

I look at the blood on my fingertips. I can’t focus enough to see anything other than colored shadows. I swallow and press my hands into the thick carpet beneath them, trying to push myself up.

But what’s the point when I can’t even feel my arms?

Maybe if I just rest my head back against the bed and close my eyes for a second, I’ll be okay.

Yeah, that’s what I’ll do.