I flinched at the stench of stale alcohol on his breath. I licked my lips, bracing myself. “Why . . . why don’t you come closer so I can give you a hug, brother,” I panted, my right hand reaching behind my back, feeling for the dropped purse. “I . . . I missed you, too,” I said, my usually nimble fingers thick with fear as I eased the strap closer and closer.
He kneeled down in front of me, a surprised but satisfied smile on his gaunt face. He kissed my forehead tenderly. “I knew you’d see it my way. We’re the only ones who can fix this,” he said, his hands caressing my cheeks and then squeezing so hard that the strands of the rope ground into my temple.
I felt a tear ease down my face . . . and I think I cried not only for myself, but maybe for him, too. He was sick. He was my brother, and at one point I’d loved him. He’s the person who’d told me my first knock-knock joke and taught me how to swim. I closed my eyes, my head running through a distant memory, one of Finn and me riding our bikes together through Turtle Creek one Saturday afternoon. I’d gotten a flat that day, and he’d given me his to ride while he trudged through hills and rocky trails to get my bike home. But that brother was long gone, and I didn’t recognize the creature that had taken his place.
Dimly, I heard a voice far away yelling my name and then a rhythmic thumping sound. Someone was coming, but it was too late. This moment had been written in stone from the time I’d seen him at the open house.
There was no turning back now.
Finn’s neck twitched to see who was coming. I reached in my bag and then whipped my arm back around to the front, pushing the knife in, watching the blood as it trickled down his throat. I remembered all the times I had bled for him. He tensed and wanted to move, but I had him by the collar, my hands tight, unwilling to release him.
“You won’t hurt me again,” I breathed out, oddly calm now. “Just a millimeter more, Finn, and you’ll die right here.”
“Nora, put it down,” a soft voice said, pulling me back to the world. I blinked over at a pale Leo who stood beside me, gazing at the knife I had pressed to Finn’s jugular.
I shook my head. “No, I made up my mind.”
Leo came closer, holding his hands up. “Look, I’m calling the police. Let them take care of him, Nora. Please.”
He reached in his jeans and pulled out his phone and dialed, and I heard him murmuring as he talked to someone, but all I could hear were Finn’s whimpers.
I turned back to Finn, watching as his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. He swallowed. “Sis, we had something special—”
“Don’t,” I muttered in a thick voice, pushing the blade in a hair more.
Leo spoke, his voice seeped in sadness. “Nora, please. If you do this, you’ll never forgive yourself. Please, I’m begging you, let him go. Come here to me. Let me hold you, Buttercup.”
And I wanted to let Leo hold me, really I did, but I was scared, frightened of when Finn would come for me next. He wasn’t fixable. He would only come back again and again, and I’d never be free. I was tired of always looking behind me, remembering what he’d done to me. I was broken because of him. Because of Mother.
If I killed him, would the pain go away? Would I have peace inside myself? Maybe. I yearned for peace, to erase what happened to me.
I wondered if I gouged the knife in as far as it would go, would there be any happy stories for me, ever? Could I live with taking a life? My own brother’s? Yes. No. I couldn’t decide.
The eerie sound of police sirens reached my ears, and I heard the knife clatter to the concrete as I let it go, the sound echoing in the silence. I pushed Finn, and he grappled away from me, getting to his feet. He reached up and wiped his dripping neck, glaring at me.
“Stupid, bitch,” he muttered, his cold eyes leveled at me.
Leo kicked the knife into the bushes and grabbed my arm, practically dragging me away from Finn and out into the brighter street. “Stay here,” he ordered, leaving me. He turned back to face Finn who’d stood nearby, a dark grin on his face. He wasn’t done. He wasn’t leaving here without me.
I took his hand. “Leo, don’t you dare go over there.”
He shook me off, seeming to not hear. He rushed at Finn and they collided, his fists targeting Finn’s face and stomach with tremendous blows. He plummeted into him over and over, the sickening crunch of bone reaching my ears. Finn cursed and fought back, hitting Leo in the jaw, making his head snap back. Leo grunted and came right back and started in again, his fists bloody.
“Stop!” I called out, fearing for Leo, afraid he’d kill Finn. I couldn’t let him go to prison for what had happened to me. I ran back over to them. They’d fallen to the concrete, both of them rolling and trying to get on top of the other. Leo was huge and muscled and making vicious, solid hits, but Finn was wiry and quick, somehow managing to avoid being pinned down by Leo.