Twenty four crumpled pages later and Adam tugged painfully at his greasy hair. He refused to shower until he had this sorted. Or as sorted as sending a letter to the brother you had avoided for years and had your head ducked in shame could be sorted out!
There were reports constantly flowing in about the rogue alpha, the thieving alpha, the fake alpha. How Abel had made a name for himself as ruthless, merciless and unforgiving. It was still the same brother that Adam had loved and adored since he had been old enough to know that his entire life had revolved around Abel. Soul or no, that hadn't stopped the elder from loving his brother and that was without his soul.
Murders, drug cartels and other illegal activities were stopped through means of teeth and gore. There had been entire criminal groups finding themselves strung up like dead chickens and the authorities were being upstaged by a 'pack of psychotic mutts on a power trip'. Those were bitter words if Adam had ever heard them.
'Brother,' Was a good start and Abel had figured that was the best way to begin five aborted letters ago.
I am a coward. I love you, I do, but I never wanted you to have to deal with my mistakes. You are not at fault, I didn't run from you. I ran from your kindness. I didn't deserve your devotion, I still don't. I'm trying though. Please, for me, stay safe? I don't think I can be one of your pack, face them again. I know you have a leash on the demons inside and even if the entire world says you're a monster, I never thought so. That would make me a monster for being loyal to you through all this. We can be monsters together.
I know I do not deserve your forgiveness and I cannot say enough how much I am sorry for running and being so weak.
I miss you.
Your pathetic brother,
That was it. That was the letter. Adam blinked back forming tears as he read over the words again and again. He didn't expect forgiveness because in truth, Adam could never be the brother that Abel had been. With shaking hands, Adam folded the page and hid his untidy, unpractised scrawl from sight. An envelope, cream and creased from poor packaging, hid his correspondence and Adam sniffled into his floppy sleeve. With a neat flourish, he wrote Abe in block letters. Verun would know a charm for this, to send it with magic and Adam clutched the letter tightly in his fist. Resolving to shower and call Verun for advice, Adam left the envelope on his bedside table (the entire surface held level by three encyclopaedias to make up for the missing leg).
The bathroom had poor lighting, grit on the off-white tiles and a permanent resident spider in the far corner over a bathtub that Adam never used. After many times when a rough hand would shove his head under water and keep him there, suffocating until the other had had their fun, bathtubs lost their appeal to the wolf. The shower head was a little squeaky and may stutter out a stream a few times but it was better than nothing and Adam undressed without looking in the large mirror mounted above the sink. Towels fluffy (courtesy of mother hen Verun and the kids buying him some more Elmo towels and even a Big bird) and waiting, he hang his holey trackies on the hook beside it and then the underwear and shirt.
Somehow, Verun had charmed the handles to turn on voice command and Adam detached the hands with practised jerks and dropped his arms onto the sink to leave the prosthetics there. They lay still and dead as Adam carefully slipped into the tiled shower stall. Abel would love this, a working shower running on pipes. Adam recalled the day that Abel had killed the alpha, taken the place as his own and shown his little brother the first warm shower they got in their young lives. Adam even had his own room, brick walls instead of shaky tin.
YOU ARE READING
Hands On The WheelRomance
****Sequel to It Doesn't End With Blood**** Adam has always led a life in the shadows of someone else. If not in that shadow, then in his own self-doubt. The timid male isn't the hero, nor is he the type to jump into battle. He is the runt, the vict...