After having some breakfast, they were about to leave the place. Brandon already had one foot on the patio when he suddenly stilled in the doorway, his back facing the puzzled countenance of Cherry. She couldn't even probe him about it as he twisted expeditiously on his feet. A perfunctory smile transforming his expression. The sudden change startled Cherry- her body taking a retreating step back.
She arched her brow. Trying it again, she stretched her head to the side to steal a glance over Brandon's shoulder, but he moved along with her inquisitive gaze, shielding them from whatever he didn't want her to see.
"On a different thought," He spouted with an unusual high-pitched voice. "How about moving our date to next week?"
"Huh? Why? Weren't you the one who pushed for this date to happen today?" Her eyes flitted to the world hidden behind her husband, only to be blocked by him as he sidestepped once again. Her vision narrowed to a pinprick as she glowered. "Seriously, what's going on-"
"Why haven't you both moved from this spot?" A familiar, jovial voice inserted itself into the conversation.
Shades that reflected Cherry's astonishment came in her view together with a nauseated inducing smile. Cherry unknowingly stepped closer to Brandon when she recognized Dean, her fingers clawing at his shirt for anchor.
Her heart spiked, and the frustration kicked in when she remembered the words he had spat to her back at the hospital. Hiding the frown on her face was impossible, but her husband shared the same expression as he gave the middle-aged man a baleful glare.
"Why are you here?" Brandon barked as he turned to face the middle-aged man, but made sure spread an arm to the side that functioned as a protective barrier between Dean and Cherry.
Brandon's hostile attitude only enhanced the grin on Dean's face. "Well, since you didn't want to come to the party, I decided to bring the party to you- a.k.a. me! Isn't it exciting?"
Shadow passed over Brandon's expression and he had to swallow back the bile of curses. He couldn't lash out here and risk saying something that Cherry shouldn't hear. He wiped the grimace from his face and put on the smile that he always reserves for his wife.
"Well, that's revolting," Dean muttered, his face twisting into a scowl as he recoiled from the unsettlingly succulent smile. Brandon ignored the comment and focused his attention back on his wife.
"Could you wait in the car, princess? I'll be back as soon as I'm done talking to him."
"Um… Are you sure? I could at least prepare some tea while you both talk," Cherry offered whilst gingerly glaring at Dean.
Something in her felt uncomfortable with the thought of leaving her husband with this man. She rather share the burden of being a victim of that insufferable man than risk having Brandon going in jail for beating an elder man. Because one thing is for sure, those root like veins growing on her husband's neck told her he wouldn't have any problem of shattering those shades off the old man's face.
"Oh!"
The exclaimed voice of the middle-aged man gave Cherry a start as he clapped his hands together. "That would be exquisite! I now understand why Brandon-"
"Ah!"
Cherry yelped as Brandon, without warning, slung her over his shoulder like a sack potato. "No, there's no need for you to do that. I'll be back before you know." He sauntered towards the car and lowered Cherry into the passenger seat. Before closing the door, he gave her a reassuring smile. "Please stay here no matter what happens."
Cherry's lips twisted in a wry grin. "You make it sound as if something bad is about to happen."
Brandon chuckles, closing the door. Turning his head to the house, smile now gone, he grunted under his breath, "I'll be lucky if the house doesn't blow up after this."
Watching Brandon disappear into the house, Cherry noticed a van parked in front of her with two men sitting in the front. Both of them wore black shades and suits, and when they made eye contact with Cherry, offered a nod which she returned it back, albeit awkwardly.
They gave the impression that they didn't belong in the normal workforce. They made Cherry feel like they wouldn't show a shred of emotion to her pleads as they shoot her, but she was quick to shake that thought out of her mind. There's no way that Brandon would be associated with that world.
Seriously, what's going on?
...
The scent of cinnamon tea guided him to the living room to see Dean sitting on the couch, taking a sip from his tea. Hearing the heavy, thudding footsteps behind him coming closer, the lines surrounding Dean's mouth deepened as he broke out in a smile. "I made myself comfortable while you decided to be a caveman. Hope you didn't mind."
Brandon inwardly rolled his eyes at Dean. He sure as hell did mind, but not like the old fool would care.
"It took you a while to find us." Stated Brandon as he sat opposite of Dean, mirroring the old man's action by crossing his legs.
"That's because I gave you a tad bit more time to be alone with your wife."
"Why couldn't you have stayed away longer then?" Brandon let out a frustrated sigh, feeling exasperated. It's like this old man got antennas in his head, warning him every time Brandon gets close to grasping the happiness he once lost.
"And miss all the fun? No way! Besides," He lowered his cup down, giving him room to speak. "I wouldn't have been here in the first place if someone had done his job as he was supposed to." The drop in Dean's voice was palpable, conveying his profound disappointment.
Brandon just silently regarded him. Reading his body language, from the way he leaned back into the soft couch cushions to the way his right hand absentmindedly kneaded the scar on his earlobe, told an emotion.
He's pissed. Brandon thought.
"It seems I have been too lax with you for you to start cutting corners. Just because I have raised you doesn't mean that I can't kill you."
"I know."
"Do you?" Dean wondered as he chortled against the rim of the teacup, before taking another sip.
"Yes, that's why I know you will be overjoyed once you see the present that I have left for you in my basement." Brandon mirrored Dean's icy business like smile.
"Oh? So you didn't just go off killing our clients mindlessly. How thoughtful, but are the organs still fresh?"
Brandon leaned forward to place his hand on the small coffee table before sliding something towards Dean. Lifting his hand revealed a crumbled piece of paper. On it numbers written hastily could be found. "Stop insulting yourself, Dean. How could I make such a mistake when you trained me yourself? I assume I won't have to guide you to the room."
"You're lucky that you're so cute." The old man laughed with his eyes closed and Brandon knew he was in the clear.
"Now go on, have fun with the lady. I promise not to denote your faulty build house." He brandished Brandon whilst taking the last few sips from his cup- not sparing the young man a glance and neither did Brandon as he stood with haste and left the tavern, face now stone cold as he couldn't be bothered to keep up the facade. He could only think about how he wanted to escape the dark pit of coldness and be cradled by the warmth that he could only feel whenever he was with his wife.
...
From her peripheral view, Cherry noticed Brandon leaving the building along with her nerves. She didn't even know that she was holding her breath until she heard her own mouth exhale. She raised a hand, shyly waving, her smile increasing in width when Brandon waved back. But she soon froze as the two large men lumbered away from their post; the sound of the van door closing felt personal- smacking her own hand away.
Her heart froze and her stomach turned icy, watching them move each step closer to the place she was supposed to call home. They momentarily exchanged looks with Brandon and Cherry hoped that he would stop them, instead with an impassive gaze, he gave them a curt nod and proceed to walk to the car.
While the warmth returned to her husband's face when his gaze fell on her, her own drained to a white pasty color. "Sorry, did you wait long?" He chirped as he put on his seatbelt.
The shine in her deep down brown eyes faded as they broaden, alternating between her husband and the strangers disappearing through the front door of the wooden cottage. "Why-Why are they going into our house? Where's Dean?" Cherry asked alarmed.
Our house. Brandon repeated Cherry's words in his head like a broken record, liking how Cherry was accepting their relationship more with each passing day. The giddiness got transferred to his words, adding a bounce to them as he explained, "Oh, they were here to pick something up. It's not something that an old man can carry on his own. They will be out of the house before you know it."
This made Cherry pause for a second. "You're letting people who you don't like alone in our house?" She questioned, incredulity.
Perspiring fingers interlaced with hers and she witnessed how the excitement which, for whatever reason, danced in Brandon's eyes lost their passion. A different emotion caused an earthquake in those sandy globes and now his other hand clasped around her hand. Brandon's hands were now working in tandem to bring even a friction of heat back under her skin.
"What's wrong?"
"What's wrong!?" she countered, yanking her hand free and using it to point at their house. "You somehow thought that it was a good idea to let a group of strangers wander around in our house. It's not a public park!"
"You know that they aren't strangers. They are my work colleagues. They aren't going to steal something, just trust-"
"Would you be able to leave me alone in a room with Dean-"
"Over my damn dead body." Brandon was quick to grit out.
His eyes narrowed in to a glare that made Cherry internally shrink away, but with a brave front she pushed through. "So you want me to trust you when you can't even trust me with that man?"
"Colleagues and friends are two different things, love. You could trust them with your work, but that's it. We keep our work and personal life separated. We have never even hung out outside work. How could I leave you alone with someone like that?"
"And does our home not count as something personal? Our safe abode?"
"Don't get smart with me. Would you leave me alone with your colleague?"
"Well…" She blinked copiously, wondering why this was even a question. "- yes, because I don't find it necessary to shield my husband away from them like they are some serial killers. You were ready to pounce on that man if he dared to look at me wrong," She pointed out. "That exact same man must be whistling as he's skipping through the house right now."
"Skipping?" He arched his brow at her and she could have sworn to see the corner of his mouth curl up.
Cherry shrugged. "He seemed like the type of person to do that."
He chuckled hollow in thought as he whispered under his breath: "He does, doesn't he?"
"What?"
With a heavy sigh, he wiped the smirk off his face with his hand, letting it rest on his forehead, contemplating everything that he said and done until now. "I get your point, but can we just drop this? We don't have time for this. We have places to visit."
Each minute that they stayed here only increased the chance that Cherry will witness a body being dragged out of the house. The thought alone had the palms holding the steer sweating.
Cherry's tapered eyebrows rose to her hairline, her eyes wide and questioning a silent 'Really?' as she crossed her arms.
"If you are not going to see what they are doing in there, then I will," she spoke with her hand already on the door handle. She began to open it, but a sudden force yanked her away.
"Don't!"
Brandon gripped her shoulders, eliciting a yelp from her as he pulled her closer to him. Piercing her with a gaze filled with desperation. He opened his mouth to say something, but Cherry soon learned whatever was about to escape that mouth shouldn't be perceived by her ears as Brandon snarled his mouth shut. He fought with whatever turmoil in him to the point of his teeth gnawing down on his lower lip and drawing out blood.
Her eyes grew wide with bewilderment at her husband's unprecedented behavior. It took her a moment to get out of her stupor, muttering absentmindedly, "It hurts."
Dread must have etched her subdued voice, cause the next split second Brandon retracted his hold on her briskly as if he was holding a torrid coal, ushering a quick, "Sorry." Not being able to meet her gaze, he again said,
"Sorry. But can we just leave?" He practically begged. He didn't even wait to hear Cherry's response, neither did he search for her expression. He just… drove off.
It hurts. She thought once more, but not from the sizzling pain in her shoulders.
Yeah, that was going to leave a mark tomorrow.
But from her heart, that shuddered with defeat. It sunk when she realized Brandon was withholding something from her, it bereaved when the man who has been treating her like a porcelain vase could grapple her with such a vice strength, but it truly sundered when she understood that the only reason why she felt like this was because she liked Brandon a lot more than she thought.
In fact, she…
I love him.