“Natasha Morgan. My…my girlfriend. And…my brother. I think they are both unconscious. But please, be careful of my brother. He’s dangerous.”
“Yeah, yeah. Okay fellas! Two more inside. Are any of them armed?”
“I don’t think so.” I said and was finally pulled up by my arms to my feet and told to sit on the curb. I watched as about five more officers with guns raised entered into the house. Another policeman came up to me holding a small pad of paper and a pen.
“What’s your name?” he asked without any real interest. To them this was a routine domestic violence case. A love triangle gone wrong and perhaps they were right.
“Marty Reid.” The name meant nothing to him. Why should it? He was a working class man with a family to raise, I assumed by the ring on his left hand and the most thankless job on the planet. He didn’t know who I was and I was glad for that. It wouldn’t be long before he found out who I was, who my brother was and how much people will pay for any of the gory details.
“Mr. Reid, I’m Officer Simmons. So, you want to tell me what happened in there?”
I nodded my head and explained that I had gotten a panicked call from Natasha Morgan that I needed to check on her best friend.
“Natasha, where are you?” I asked. She had hadn’t been at work for a few days and although I spoke to her on the phone I knew something was bothering her. She wouldn’t tell me and just said she needed a couple days to sort things out. Deep down I knew it had something to do with my brother.
He had been getting worse for several weeks.
I came home about three weeks ago and found him waiting for me in the lobby of my apartment building. He was looking good, healthy and dressed nicely as if he were going out on a date or something. There were no photographers around him, no women in slinky outfits. It was just him.
“What do you want, Josh?” I asked, waving to the doorman that he didn’t need to call for the police.
“I just want to talk, big brother. That’s all.”
So I nodded my head and we went to my apartment. Once up there the normal behavior ended and I saw the stranger my brother was becoming. He mumbled all the way up the elevator and once inside my home he began to pace.
“Do you have anything to drink, Marty?”
“Would you like a beer or maybe just some water?”
“Still swigging the old man’s brand, aren’t you Marty?” He smirked at me. “The guy has been dead for how many years? You don’t need to kiss his ass anymore. Don’t you have any champagne, or vodka or something with kick?”
“I like dad’s brand of beer, Joshua. And even if I did have any of the other stuff I wouldn’t give it to you. What do you want?” I took a step toward him but he backed up. “You aren’t looking too good.”
“I’ll tell you what I want. I want you to stop seeing Natasha.”
“What?”
“You heard me. It can’t work between the two of you. You know that. She’s just your average girl from some crappy suburb and you…hell, Marty. You should be dating models or debutants or someone with a little better breeding than that one.”
“Joshua, you really lost any influence you might have had with me years ago. I don’t think you are in any position to tell me who I can or can’t date.”
“She’s just a piece of ass! What? Do you love her? Is that it?”
I stepped up to my brother and glared at him as I had done many times over the years growing up when he had overstepped his bounds.
“One more word out of you, Joshua, and you’re out of here. Things are not looking well for your future. You’ve still got time to get your act together and perhaps find another avenue for your needs. But I am through baby-ing you. Mom and Dad said we were supposed to take care of each other. As far as I can see I’ve been taking care of you and that’s about it.”
I knew my brother wasn’t listening. He was pacing around, looking in cabinets and drawers and every once in a while he’d chuckle or click his tongue shaking his head and cracking his knuckles. I hate to admit that I was uneasy. No. Uneasy wasn’t the word. I was beginning to feel very scared of my own brother.
“Joshua? Are you listening to me?”
I watched as my brother walked back and forth and finally stopped to look at me. The look in his eyes was void of all emotion. There was nothing but darkness there.
I stood waiting for him to say something more. To give me a gross and twisted interpretation of the events that he was contributing to. But he didn’t say a word. He looked around as if he didn’t even know how he had ended up in my apartment. Then, like some guy realizing he was about to miss a flight or a bus he looked around quickly and then headed toward the door slamming it shut on his way out.
I really thought that he had given up.
I suspected he had hurt Denise but I had no proof. It was obvious he was scaring Natasha but I insisted that she was safe. Then, just a few short hours ago I got a call from her.