- DEX -
Pulling into Lawson’s parking garage brings the overwhelming anger that I have for him back to the surface, because everything about this apartnt building screams my brother with his arrogance and conceit. Not that there’s anything wrong with living in a nice place, but there is definitely sothing very wrong with my brother.
I pull up in an empty spot next to his stupid Jaguar. The spot I’m in is reserved for another tenant, but my guess is that they are at work. I shouldn’t be here long enough for it to be an issue.
"Hey Charlie," I say, slapping the doorman’s shoulder as I walk in.
"Hey Dex," he chuckles. "How’ve you been? It’s been a long ti."
"It sure has. You’re still here I see."
"Still here. Still working. Soone has to look after your brother," he chuckles again.
"Well, I’m glad it’s you."
"Lawson already left for the day," he adds, informing since it’s part of his job.
"Yeah, he left sothing and asked to grab it for him. I’m back at the company now. Did he ntion it?"
"That’s right. I heard your father is sick. I’m sorry."
"Thanks. It’s a hard ti right now," I say, raking a hand down my face. "But we’ll get through it. That’s what family is all about, right?"
"That’s right," he nods.
Charlie is a family man to his core. That’s one thing I know about him. He is loyal. He is good at his job, and above all, he is here to help provide for his family. That’s why he stands at this door with a polite, friendly smile on his face every single day—rain or shine—regardless of what’s going on in his own personal life. Charlie’s job is to offer a sense of security to the residents here, and that is what he does without fail. I have a great amount of respect for him.
"I’ll see you later, Charlie," I smile, preparing to walk past him. I’ve always been welcod here in the past, and that gives the confidence that I can enter without trouble. It would be considered offensive if he stopped .
"See you later, Dex."
I’m relieved when my confidence pays off. From here, it should be no problem getting a spare key. But when I arrive at the front desk, there’s soone new who I don’t recognize, and it’s possible my luck is about to run out.
The young man greets with a very polite smile.
"Hi, I don’t think we’ve t." I offer my hand. "I’m Alexander Mobius, Lawson’s brother."
"Hello Mr. Mobius," he says, shaking my hand. "Lawson has left for the day. What can I do for you?"
"He sent to get sothing from his apartnt, but I don’t have a key."
The young man’s smile turns serious. "Okay, we will just have to confirm with him. It shouldn’t be a problem. Would you mind waiting while I call?"
"Of course," I say, maintaining my sa deanor, but now I’m aware that this errand is not going to be successful.
I really want to get those journals back. It’s like an itch under my skin that won’t go away knowing that they’re still in Lawson’s possession even if he may not be here to pour over them anymore. They don’t belong anywhere else but with Raya, and the fact that he took them is such a fucking violation of her that it makes crazy to even allow myself to think about it.
"Hello, Mr. Mobius. I’m sorry to bother you," the desk man says, and internally I’m rocked by the fact that soone picked up my brother’s phone. "Your brother Alexander is here, and he says there is sothing he needs from your apartnt. Do I have permission to give him a key?"
Several seconds pass when my interest in what is being said on the other line is piqued so high it’s difficult not to show it. But this guy’s professionalism is exquisite. His expression gives nothing away.
"I will do that. Thank you. Have a great day," he says and hangs up the phone. Then he reaches for sothing under the counter and passes the key over. "I am supposed to tell you that you have his sincerest apologies, and he promises to make it up to you."
Now my expression breaks, because I feel the genuine surprise and confusion furrowing my brow. But I take the key and nod my thanks, making my way to the elevator. Once the doors close, I’m left staring at my reflection in the tal that is polished to a flawless shine, and I can’t help but chuckle to myself.
"Your sincerest apologies," I say quietly. "I bet you’re sorry now. It’s a little late, though." I toss the key in the air and catch it just as the doors open.
Inside Lawson’s apartnt, it’s flawless. He is very particular about keeping everything orderly, and I have a childish urge to trash the place for when he returns. If I can’t find the journals, that’s exactly what I’m going to do, too. But hopefully I won’t have to. If I know my brother, they will be in a very convenient and obvious place. The fury I have suppressed all weekend rolls off of —free to fully reveal itself—as I stalk down the hallway toward his bedroom.
Lawson’s bed is made, and the two identical journals are lying on top of the charcoal comforter as if he had just finished looking at them again before leaving this morning. I recognize them imdiately, and they are literally the only thing out of place in the room. Everything else is tucked neatly away in closets or drawers.
It’s a good thing he isn’t here right now, because I swear I would kill him. He read them before leaving for work—imagining seeing Raya today, I’m sure. I wonder what corner of the building he was hoping to trap her in.
After taking a few breaths to try calming the storm of this anger that’s flowing out of , I grab them and tuck them under my arm. It’s tempting to break every fucking thing is this apartnt on the way out, but I remind myself of where Lawson is right now.
Vengeance is already mine, and leaving without touching another thing proves sothing important. I’m not sure exactly what that is, but it feels good. It feels right. And after my family is done with him, Lawson will never be able to sleep soundly in his impeccably made bed again. I’m going to make sure of it.
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