The Account Under the Bed
I could not leave Jim to spend that night alone with his fear.
It was too dangerous — a desperate man does unpredictable things, and I needed him steady and I needed him mine.
So after Julian had drifted off, satisfied and sure of himself, I slipped out of the suite and went down to find my brother.
He was where I knew he’d be, unable to sleep, sitting alone on a lounge chair near the glowing turquoise rectangle of the infinity pool, a tumbler of whiskey sweating in his hand.
He jumped when I sat down across from him, slopping a little of the drink onto his shirt.
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