Games of Deceit

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My Brother's Family
29.9k words
4.23
100.1k
73

Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 08/29/2017
Created 09/25/2013
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Author's note: Please forgive any grammer mistakes. I do not have an editor (Email me if interested) and when I proof read, my mind corrects any of my mistakes because I know what I was trying to say.

This is the first of a series. Each installment will star the main character but the stories can be read seperately. Happy Reading!

Games of Deceit

My Brothers Family:

What makes a happy ending? It's an important question to have an answer to when you are entertaining yourself with that movie, book, or television show. Is it when the guy gets the girl? How about when the protagonist defeats the evil that is plaguing the world? I suppose you could say 'yes' to both of those and live out your life saying 'damn that was a good book or movie.' But what about the guy that didn't get the girl? He wanted love just the same and fell short. What about the evil wannabe dictator who wanted to rule the world whose life ended when some person with a hero complex kills or puts them in some impossible prison with no chance of escaping until the top executives that be demand a sequel? Was it a happy ending for them? The difference is point of view. Why do I mention this you ask? Because life is the same way. Your happy ending didn't come because you didn't get that promotion at work, but for the person who did get the job, they couldn't be happier. For people who were conned out of substantial wealth, it was a nightmare, not a day of happiness. The fortune I accumulated by manipulating those people from their precious securities, well I'm happy. The difference between me and the so-called villains in entertainment is that I know I'm the antagonist and this is my life. Part of it anyway.

My life is a string of adventures. You may call them swindles but once again, that's point of view. I had several plush bank accounts, including one in Switzerland, but I didn't have a personal residence or a place of business. I had everything I needed in a duffle bag and I live in worn down motels or homeless shelters as a vagabond. I just roamed the earth in search of my next victim. It is how I made all my money. See, I told you I'm the bad guy as I'm already lying to you. I also made some of my money, $200,000 to be exact, when my parents died. Don't get me wrong, it's not one of those stories either. I wasn't the good kid and then lashed out because I lost the stability my parents gave me. I was twenty-three when that miracle happened. Nope. I was a wretch for as long as I can remember, and I have eidetic memory. And yes, I remember that balmy, humid 97-degree day when the air conditioner was broken in the daycare we shared in which I stole your lunchbox when we were two (the tuna fish sandwich had too much mayonnaise but the chocolate pudding was good).

My condition has helped me in so many ways. First, without any effort, it got me through elementary and junior high. But it was too easy and I quit caring when I landed in high school. I purposely wrote answers incorrectly because I thought they were funny. Did you know Helen Keller was the first man to climb Mt Everest? I also tested myself. I answered questions to the prior period's exam on the current one. -5(1-5x)+5(-8x-2)=-4x-8x solve for x. Instead of x=-5, I wrote the raven first signifies the dark and depressing loss of Lenore. The writer then hopes (since a raven in folklore carries souls away) that the raven will take his soul so he could once again reunite with his beloved. If the teachers would have matched up the tests, they were flawlessly answered. Good times. Later, I used my talent for more mischievous means. I clean up well. When in a suit and not dressed like a bum, I can find little old ladies and spew bible quotes at them until they hand over their entire bank account to me because they know I'll do "so much good with it." To me, it's all about the challenge. I do what I want, when I want, until boredom takes me to another place. And that's where my brother Adrian comes in.

I was born eight years ahead of my brother. I was his idol. He was my resentment. All he wanted was to be my best friend. All I saw was the difference our parents treated us. That was partly due to financials. My parents were broke when I was born, and only slightly better off when they brought my brother home. But both of their careers took off when I went into high school. They bought him everything and me nothing. By then, I was already a few years down the road of my troublesome nature and they didn't want to encourage me anymore by spoiling me. Whatever. Was I really hurting anyone? Then, I mean. No. When I was seventeen, I fled and didn't return. I didn't care. I didn't even make it to the double funeral.

It was January 17th. I had just taken a car dealership in an insurance fraud and I was bored. The idiot didn't see it coming. Even thanked me afterward. I was in Ridgedale, four hours away from my hometown of Hilldale. I wouldn't have even considered it on any other day, but my family's reunion is always held at my uncle's house on January 18th, the day my parents died. It's been a decade since I've even seen a family member and that was just a passing on the street in Los Angeles. My cousin didn't even recognize me nor did I say anything to him. I smell a challenge. How many members of my family would know who I am? How many thought I was dead? How many would I be able to recognize after years of age has done its toll? Definitely my type of game. Besides, free food.

I dressed in my best or worst, depending on point of view, homeless outfit. A black sweater ripped at the seam all the way to the arm, jeans that had holes on both knees and an overly used overcoat from 1974. I hadn't shaved in days and I intentionally arrived late. All I wanted was to play my game, grab a bite to eat, and leave. I entered the house and heard all the adults in the dining room talking. There were eight kids in the living room, two young teen boys playing a video game, an older teen girl with black glasses reading 'The Catcher in the Rye' sitting on the couch while a slightly younger girl was enjoying the latest teen magazine at the other end. The remaining four kids were five and under and were playing with various toys on the floor. The youngest girl just happened to look up at me and gave a blood-curdling scream at my presence. I had to hold in my smile to the fact I scared her. This trip was already worth it. The little kids and the girl with the teen magazine scampered away. The two boys stood up to face me. One was petrified. The other was smug.

"Who the hell are you and why are you in my house?" He actually looked me up and down as if he were sizing me up for a fight. The eldest girl was staring at the scene over the spine of her book. She tried to give the impression she was still reading. She was used to being a wallflower.

"Billy, watch your mouth. You and Wally get in the kitchen. Katie you should go too." My Aunt Gertrude came to investigate the cause of the scream. Billy and Wally left the room. Katie made it appear she left the room, but I saw her watching the scene through a mirror around the corner. "David!" Aunt Gertrude shouted. Her tone clearly stated something was amiss and every adult member of the house came into the foyer.

My Uncle David was in front. "Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my house?"

"I'll call the police," Aunt Joyce reached for the phone.

"You have two seconds to answer me before I beat the living shit out of you!" Uncle David was cocking his fists.

One.

Two.

"That's it you son of a bitch." Uncle David's arm went back.

"Wait Uncle David." It was Adrian. He was just as I remembered, but older. Clean cut and stocky with his eyes portraying his kind heart and his black hair parted to the right. He pushed his way through the crowd and faced me. "Patrick? Is that you?"

"Hello, dear brother. I came to finally say goodbye to mom and dad." It was the only thing I could think of to explain myself.

Adrian hugged me and started crying, "It's been too long, please come in."

To be honest, I was disappointed. My brother recognized me, I was hoping for zero and having to see if I could test my memory by answering useless family facts like how I set my now deceased Grandpa Randolph's toupee on fire when I was six. On top of that, I remembered everybody but the kids and new spouses, and only because I've never met them. But I did now and in ten more years, I would see if they recognized me when I showed up clean cut and in a limo. My brother did well for himself in the relationship department. Lillian, his wife, was a business executive for Ingenious Ingenuities, a research and development company. She was polite, conversational, and her body was attractive as well. Her brown hair seemed to cascade down to the middle of her back. I could tell she was the mother of the wallflower on the couch. The only difference was the teen was a bit more slender and awkward in appearance and she had nowhere near the confidence. I grabbed a plate and loaded it with food as I sat at the head of the table, Adrian right next to me. I told them I had very little and I had a health condition that prevented me from work but I was doing great and had no regrets. Despite no one wanting to leave because I had returned, it was getting late for a Monday and the kids had school and the adults had work in the morning. I made as if I was going to the bathroom, but I was really leaving. I was done here anyway. I was bored with idle chatter about random family crap and ready to scheme for my next adventure when Adrian stopped me at the door.

"Where you off to?"

I shrugged my shoulders.

"Listen, I want you to come live with me and my family." Adrian went on his tiptoes to put his arm around my shoulders. "At least until you get back on your feet."

"No, I'll be fine on my own. I may not look it, but I am happy." It was perhaps the only honest statement I gave that evening. "Besides, I won't impose."

"You're family and I want you to. How is that imposing?"

"All the more reason for me to say no." I put my hand on the doorknob, "You feel obligated."

"How about this?" I could sense the urgency in his tone. "It's not imposing if I hire you, is it?"

"I told you I can't work. I don't need your pity."

"It's not pity." I almost laughed watching Adrian beg. "I head back to New York tomorrow to complete a case. I'll be gone for a couple of months at least and it would do me good to know someone will be there to protect my girls. I'll pay you a salary, you can stay rent-free, and you can even drive my car while I'm gone so you can come and go as you please."

I thought about it. Where's my adventure in this scenario? It would make Adrian happy for me to be stealing from him. That had possibilities. The thought of his reaction ten years from now after I up and disappeared while he was still in New York. That had merit. Maybe I could get a foothold into Ingenious Ingenuities and either ruin them financially or steal secrets or both. Now that had my attention. I just needed to come up with small challenges until the opportunity to meet these possible goals came to fruition.

"Are you sure this will be okay?" I did my best to make myself sound hopeful instead of conniving. I've had a lot practice in that.

"Absolutely," Adrian's smile was ear to ear.

Adrian's car was a black BMW. I expected nothing less from a lawyer. I was in the backseat with Katie as we drove home. Adrian was in high spirits that I was coming to live with him and couldn't shut up about new landmarks in the city and old memories that I didn't care about. Lillian was disgruntled. Her arms were crossed and she let out a series of noises to show her displeasure. She obviously didn't want a stranger in her house especially with Adrian leaving, brother or not. Katie continued to pretend to read her book, using the light from her cell phone to illuminate the page she wasn't reading. Her eyes were focused on me. She was curious.

We pulled into the driveway of a large white Victorian manor. It was huge and I had no idea what three people could with so much space. A place this spacious, I wonder if they would notice anything missing. I was shown to a room on the upstairs and I had to lie to my brother to finally get him to fucking leave. Okay, it wasn't a lie, I really was tired but it wasn't of exhaustion, it was from his mouth.

The next morning, he came to say goodbye at five in the morning and I feigned sleep. Not that I had a problem with getting up that early, some of the best suckers I meet are on morning runs before they go to work but if I 'woke up', I'm sure he might not have left for New York. The only reason he exited my room at all was a car horn sounded announcing the cabs arrival.

I got up and took a shower. I wanted to give the impression I was grateful to Lillian and lay on some charm. She was going to be my first challenge. Can I get her to not only accept me staying here but like me enough to give any type of access to her work?

I came downstairs and followed the smell of coffee into the kitchen. Lillian was going a mile a minute, constantly going back and forth, already dressed for work in a red and black power business suit.

"Do you need any help?"

"No," Lillian's response was harsh.

I walked over to the toaster where her bagel popped up and I saw the cream cheese that was set out. "How much cream cheese do you like?"

"I said I have it," Lillian grabbed the butter knife from my hands and pushed me aside.

"I understand that you don't want me here, sharing a house with someone you don't know, and if you want me to leave, I will, no questions asked," I wanted to lay it on thick. "If not, please let me help. I feel emasculated enough as it is and all I want is to feel significant. Certainly a woman of your stature can understand that."

Lillian's stern expression dwindled and she let out a sigh, "Sorry. I'm not used to help in the morning and, yes, I definitely didn't like the idea of you living with us. I was even more upset that my husband didn't even discuss this with me before making a decision."

"That's understandable, a husband should always consult his wife," I nodded. "So do you mind if I put the cream cheese on your bagel," I smiled.

She set down the butter knife and gave a slight snicker, "I suppose."

Success. People are so easy to manipulate. Discover what they want to hear and feed it to them. In this case, it was Lillian's pride. That was an easy challenge.

Lillian was soon gone and was replaced in the kitchen by Katie. She was a polar opposite to her mother. She wore a frumpy brown turtleneck and loose jeans. She grabbed everything needed for cereal and sat at the far end of the dining table.

I walked over to the table. "Good morning."

"Morning," Katie mumbled.

"Would like anything else for breakfast? I make a damn good piece of toast."

Katie chuckled, which is what I was hoping for. A comfortable person is a talkative person. A talkative person let's out secrets. And what better person to give secrets of the house than a person who has been living here all her life? I sat next to her and began talking about the inconsequential. She wasn't a conversationalist like her mother either. If I read her right, all I have to do is smother her with attention. Soon she was gone and I wandered the empty house. I spent the day familiarizing myself with the home. All the computers were password protected, which sucked. I gave a thorough search of Adrian and Lillian's room. The only non-clothing I found in the drawers was a vibrator in Lillian's night side table. These people were typical and boring. I had a new challenge for myself, liven this place up.

The next few weeks I planted seeds. I cleaned myself up. Good hygiene, daily grooming, and I wore casual outfits, polo shirts with khaki's or jeans. Every morning I got up before Lillian and made her coffee and cream cheesed a bagel. I let Katie keep her independence as far as getting her breakfast, but I talked to her at the table constantly. At night, Lillian didn't get home until late so Katie and I would prepare dinner together. She even started talking back, even if it was about the mundane. That was one lonely, starved for attention girl. She was closer to her father but that really wasn't saying much because he was hardly around but she was daddy's little girl when he was home. When Lillian did arrive, I stayed up with her and we indulged in a glass of wine each, her gossiping about her day and me being the good listener. She worked a lot. Two different people, two different approaches. I went around to all the neighbors and introduced myself to let them know who I was. I even got in good with a hot blonde trophy wife, Eileen, who lived across the street. She was desperate for some male attention and I happily obliged. I loved the gullibility of this rich neighborhood.

I also went to the sordid side of town, known as the 'Lost District of Hilldale.' I dressed in buttoned down shirts left open with a t-shirt and jeans for these visits. I went to all the customary places, bars, sex shops, and strip clubs. I ingratiated myself to some hookers and even made conversation with a pair of drug dealers. I sent them my new friends, rich clients to them and they owed me for that.

It was a Thursday; I just came home from visiting the Russell's, a retired couple that lives two doors down. George Russell and I like to get in political debates and I playfully flirt with his wife, Edith. After a couple of weeks, they loved me and when I'm ready to blow town, they'll be one of my first stops. That safe behind a picture in which I witnessed good ole George carelessly put in his combination in front of me was full of goodies.

It was the early afternoon and I headed up to my room to change for a visit to the 'Lost District' when I heard crying. I followed the sound to Katie's bedroom to find her lying with her face in the pillow. I saw my niece as my next challenge. I was going to transform her from sweet and innocent to a certified whore. I can't wait to see Lillian's reaction. A problem daughter will certainly liven this place up. I sat in her computer chair and waited for her to notice me. We had never got into any deep conversations yet, but I felt confident she would open up to me. I sat patiently for a few minutes before Katie lifted her head up.

"This is so stupid Katie. Get your act together," she spoke to herself, wiped away the remnants of tears, and then turned. She jumped when she saw me. "What are you doing in here? Get out!"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you, but I did knock first." I lied as I stood up. "I just thought you needed some advice from an old man who has experienced quite a few pitfalls." I turned away from her and smiled. I took two steps.

"Uncle Patrick. Please stay." I knew she would say that.

"I don't think you should call me Uncle. I've never been one to you before. Just call me Patrick. I mean I would like to think of us as friends." I retook my seat. "Now what could possibly be troubling such a beautiful woman?"

My words had the desired effect; Katie stared at me for a moment and then shook her head briefly. "Okay Patrick. I'm having a problem with a couple girls in my class. Mainly a girl named Alana Hamilton. They keep harassing me."

"That I can give advice on, but I first want to go back to you shaking your head. Why did you do that?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do. I even know why you did. It was a reaction to me calling you a beautiful woman." Katie shied away. "See, you did it again. Why?"

"I don't know why. Can we please not talk about that and get back to my problem?"

"They are one in the same."

"What?" Katie was completely lost.

"Okay, you're having a problem at school with the other students harassing you. Why do they do that?"

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