Hank

He'd Google searched his step brother on impulse and found out he worked in a very successful firm as the Managing Director. Hank hurried into the building and went straight to the receptionist.

If anyone asked, he'd have said it didn't come as a surprise to him. When he had been hostile and aggressive from his childhood trauma, Jamal had been level headed and ambitious.

He asked the lady receptionist for the floor to EA Investment, he was passed a visitor's badge then directed to the seventh floor. Hank adjusted his newly acquired tie and tried not to stare at his reflection on the gleaming walls of the elevator. He stared at the indicator showing the floors passed and sighed when it showed the number seven.

Here we go.

Hank got off and noticed a fancy sign written in italics near the elevator stating the company's name. He really didn't need the affirmation that he was on the right floor, but then again it was obvious the sign wasn't for him.

Hank looked around the open office space, there were neatly arranged desks and chairs with people hustling and bustling around. He looked to his left when he heard a soft voice.

"Hello, how may I help you?" A lady asked with a genuine smile.

Hank strode towards her, she talked into an earpiece but still somehow kept her warm smile.

"I'm here to see Jamal?"

"Do you have an appointment with Mr. Jamal, Sir?"

"No." He frowned.

"That's fine. Just fill this form and I'll let his PA know he has a visitor." She handed him a pen along with the form and he smiled in appreciation.

Hank started writing with his left hand then remembered he didn't need to disguise. He was prepared to live a civilian life but his military training was hard to detach from his persona. Even now, he was wearing all black like he had to hide in plain sight.

As he filled the visitor's form, he remembered to use his biological name and not the nickname bestowed on him by his troops. If he wrote Hank, Jamal wouldn't have a clue as to who he was.

He was motioned to the waiting area after handing the form back. The receptionist was nice enough to show him the several vending machines available and he went for soda as she went about her business. As he pressed the button for soda, a question popped up asking for the circumference of a circle. Hank grimaced and violently punched in the answer.

Why did everything at the corporate world have to be such a chore?

Even the crisp, clean air he was breathing in felt different. He was afraid he was going to be charged for it when he walked out of the building. Not from his cards though, since he had no money left in his account. They would have to find other options.

The soda dropped and he picked the chilled can and smiled. When he went back to the padded chair, he realized he hadn't paid for the drink. Maybe, the corporate world wasn't so bad after all.

He knew he had to have a better attitude towards it since he was hoping to get a job from his step brother. For Jamal's sake, he hoped he wouldn't have to resort to threats. No managing director wanted his crack head father being discussed at the board meeting.

Hank wasn't ruthless, he excelled at it but it never came naturally to him. He had killed only when he had to, he had hated interrogating thugs and hunting for criminals. His mates in the army liked to sometimes brag about their body counts. It was easy for them, the general ideology was to either kill or be killed. Hank had even partook in preaching that to new recruits. But, when the lights went out and sleep refused to come, he was left with his conscience.

As he drank his soda, he took note of the cameras, whoever installed them wasn't trying to hide the lenses. He was fairly certain, Jamal could see him from one of those.

It had been years. Would he remember who he was? They had hated each other as kids. Jamal believed his dad's drug problem got worse when he married Hank's mother. Hank had made it apparent that Jamal's dad gave his mother money to fund her addiction.

Looking back now, he knew they were both wrong. Their parents were two consenting adults that wanted to get high. They were bad for each other because neither was ready to hold the other accountable, instead they indulged and self destruct.

Time tickled by as the few minutes promised by the receptionist became hours of waiting. She would sometimes look at him as the elevator opened and he would smile. She was beautiful, her hair was in a neat ponytail and her earrings were small, barely noticeable studs. He had noticed her nice racks as she showed him to the waiting area opposite her table. If he hadn't jerked off that morning, he would probably have found a way to get her number.

If there was one thing Hank had, it was patience. He was born impatient, he jittered whenever he had to wait for long but the Army had changed that. His commanding officer used to put him in charge of staking out people of interest and he dared not miss a detail. If Jamal was trying to make him wait then he would wait.

Hank's leg vibrated and he dug into his pocket for his phone. His mother was calling again. He'd sent all the money he had in the world to her when she'd called crying that she was dying. He'd been so devastated by the news that he had not bothered to find out if she was lying or not.

He picked the phone and sighed into it. "Mom?"

She immediately started bawling and he could picture the fat tears falling off her face. "Kiki?"

He ground his teeth and answered. "There's no amount of pet names you can call me that'll make me forgive you. This is a new low even for you."

"He made me do it. He said we were going to buy a space ship and fly away."

"You said you were dying. You told me they wanted you out of the hospital and that you couldn't buy the expensive drugs."

"Baby, I know. I swear he made me do it."

His mom had recently gotten another crack head boyfriend and this one took the cake of all her disturbing relationships. He was bad news, plain and simple.

"Where is he now?"

"I don't know. My love has left me." She hadn't stopped crying since he picked the call but her cry went an octave higher now.

It was as if the money wasn't the problem, the goddamn idiot leaving her was what mattered most to her. He had sent her all his savings because she had kept calling him with more bad news about her fake diagnosis. He should have known better.

All those times she'd told him that she was doing better and at a rehab had turned out to be a lie. His mother was sick mentally and she wasn't going to take his help. He had tried tough love then talked to her like a kid. He had even promised her the world although he couldn't afford it. Nothing ever worked with her. Here he was again trying to make her less upset instead of yelling at her.

"Baby?"

"I'm here, mom."

"You're not going to talk to your mother?"

"Mom, I'm literally talking to you."

"You're angry. Tell me you forgive me."

"I forgive you, mom. I love you. It's me and you against the world, just me and you as always." It was the same shitty speech she was always interested in hearing.

"Yes, baby."

He saw the receptionist coming towards him and quickly spoke into the phone, "Mom, I need to go." He ended the call before she could protest.

Hank smiled and stood. "Ready for me?" he asked in his most flirtatious tone.

"Yes, sir," she smiled. "Mr. Jamal is ready to see you."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. Go straight and turn left. Your visitor's badge will allow you in."

Hank walked away and followed the direction. He got to a door and noticed a scanner scanning his badge, the door opened and he went in. A middle aged lady looked up from her computer and pointed towards another door. Hank entered and saw Jamal sitting at a C-shaped table.

"So?" Jamal said as he noticed him.

Hank literally cackled. "Straight to the point, I see. Well, I missed you too, brother."

"Step brother."

"Ah. How could I forget? Can I sit?"

"If I said no, would you disappear to where you appeared from?"

"Not likely."

"Sit then."

Hank sat as gracefully as he could. "You look good. I thought you were going to grow up ugly."

His joke didn't work on Jamal since he remained tense. He could see the fear in his step brother's eyes. What was it about him that scared people? Jamal was almost as tall as he was yet he stayed behind his desk and didn't even try to hug him.

"What do you want?"

"I need a job."

Jamal relaxed considerably. "Just that?"

"Yes. I'm not looking for a hand out, just a job." Hank understood how contradicting it sounded but continued, "I left the Army few months ago and I'm running low on cash."

"You joined the Army?"

"Yea. Either that or end up in prison."

"You were always wired differently than the rest of us."

"If you say so."

"I can't help you with a job right now."

"Are you kidding? You run this place, can't you find a vacant position somewhere?" Hank knew he sounded entitled but he was also desperate.

"We have outsourcing companies for that, I'm sorry. I can help you with cash though."

"I need a job. I lost my whole team in one day last year and things have been so hard on me. I had to quit because I was finding it difficult working with a new team. If I don't get a job soon I might just go crazy."

"Whew."

Hank watched as the wheels turned in Jamal's head. "How's your dad?"

"He died some years ago."

"Lucky you."

"Yes, lucky me. How's your mom?"

"Alive and well."

Hank gave nothing more. He could see the curiosity on Jamal's face, but it wasn't necessary to tell him his mom was still as addicted to drugs as ever.

"You stole my toys when you left."

"That wasn't the only thing stolen that night." They both laughed and Hank was relieved. "I missed you."

"You used to call me weird."

"I didn't mean it. We were just kids and that was my coping mechanism. Also, she married all sorts of weirdos and I saw real weirdness."

"Can you drive?"

"Armor tanks?"

"My God, no. My wife could use a driver."

Hank could vividly remember Jamal being adamant about never getting married.

"Things changed," Jamal said reading his mind. "Her dad owns this company anyways."

"I'm sure it was love at first sight," Hank responded sarcastically.

Jamal ignored his comment and leaned forward."You're just someone I hired to drive her around, she doesn't need to know we were step brothers."

"That won't be a problem. Thanks." Hank stood.

"Drop your details with the receptionist, she'll send you an email."

"You should get a better vending machine," Hank said as he got close to the door.

"You should get better at maths, Okiki," Jamal replied to his retreating back.

"It's Hank now," he corrected.