Neville sat alone on the front steps, well mostly alone. Bruiser, the alpha of the pack lounged beside him, his massive head in Neville's lap. In the two weeks since he'd moved in the big bull mastiff/Rottweiler mix had become his near constant companion around the house. Tyler said they were kindred spirits. "Misunderstood and too big for your own good the both of you." He took to sleeping in his room almost immediately, which lead very quickly to Neville's bed. Tyler apologized profusely at first but Neville assured him he didn't mind. In truth he was elated. He'd never been allowed a pet in his childhood and once he was on his own, Neville's lifestyle didn't permit him time to properly care for an animal. Now he sat with his new best bud, slowly sipping a beer and watching the sun move slowly beneath the horizon.
It had been a near perfect day. The guys and Paris had thrown him a sort of welcome home barbeque, invited all the friends he didn't know he still had and some new ones from work. Not many of his family came, mostly because Neville begged Paris to invite none but the cherished few and even some of them didn't show. He got a few calls beforehand but that didn't matter, those who showed filled him with enough love for the rest. All in all about 30 people came to help celebrate his release, and coming out as Gianni kept reminding him. The most surprising guest was his great-aunt who told him of an uncle he never knew he had, her brother, who killed himself in his twenties for being "the same kind of different," as she put it. "Ain't nothing wrong with loving who you want to love as long as they can say they love you back." Wise words from a woman who'd lived almost a hundred years, Neville figured if she could get over it then so should everyone else in his old life.
He sipped his beer and contemplated what might have perfected the almost impeccable day. Paris had offered to call him up until she left her house that morning but Neville wouldn't have it. It had been years since they'd spoken, even before his incarceration. Before Neville lost his scholarship and made his brief venture into a life of crime. It had been about a girl, or so Neville tried to convince himself at the time. Over the years of separation he'd given up that notion but it wasn't until he sat down to write the letter to Paris that he admitted the truth. Neville had been in love with his oldest friend.
Neville Sinclair met Brion MacIntosh before either boy could remember. Their fathers were buddies and wanted their sons to share the bond so before they could even walk the boys played together. They shared everything from the start. There was video of Brion trying to give a crying Neville the pacifier from his own mouth when they were a little less than a year old. Neville gave him the nickname that had stuck with them until adulthood, "Breeze" because he couldn't quite say Brion. They were on every team together organized or otherwise. All the kids at school knew they were a package deal, if you picked Neville you picked Brion by default which wasn't a bad deal since they were both athletically adept at an early age. It just so happened that Neville had always been the bigger of the two but what he lacked in stature Brion made up for with speed and heart. By the time they made it to high school the boys bond was almost brotherly. Almost because by then, Neville had begun to have some very different feelings about Breeze. Feelings that only intensified when they left for college but by then Neville had already recognized them for what they were and did a pretty good job of hiding the possessiveness that came with them. Even when Breeze began to question why Neville always found fault in the girls he dated, he kept up the act.
It was their sophomore year when Breeze introduced Neville to Soleil Dallier, a filthy little southern belle so charming that Neville almost believed her when she told him that they'd be the best of friends too. Hedging her bets was what she was doing, figuring that if she strung them both along then she could cash in with whomever landed in the better station. Neville's biggest mistake was not telling Brion immediately after she tried to kiss him. Well, she did kiss him but nothing happened, absolutely nothing. She was a beautiful girl, 5'10 with an ass that belonged on a women with twice her waist circumference and full supple breast only a twenty year old with no responsibilities could have. Her skin was honey toned as were her eyes and hair, she looked like her name and she knew it. So when there was not even the hint of a stir in Neville's package she put two and two together. She tried to use it as leverage to keep him from selling her out but when he couldn't promise not to say anything Soleil threw him under the bus. Well partially, she didn't say that he might be in love with Brion only that he'd made a pass at her. That could have been forgiven if Neville didn't so adamantly deny it but was unwilling to risk his world with the truth. He gambled on his friendship instead and lost.
"Big as you is you still a fucking coward," was the last thing Brion MacIntosh said to his once best friend Neville Sinclair. He never heard Neville agree.
That was the beginning of his end. Stopped going to class and started partying. It wasn't long before he found that his steady hand and quick reflexes translated behind the wheel of a car. He raced and won most of that summer, then the weekend before he was to report to preseason a sore loser flipped his '99 Accord. Despite a broken leg, the loss of his scholarship and subsequent withdrawal from school the worse part of the whole ordeal was the knowledge that he would probably never see Brion again. They had already stop speaking but Neville could steal glances at him around campus, unfortunately he was usually with her but all good drugs have side effects.
"Hey man," came from behind him and Neville turned to see Gianni smiling down at him. His cheeks rosy and skin glistening from the heat, he came to lean on the railing beside Neville. "Some of the guys want to go boozing. Interested?"
"Naw bud, I'm all partied out," was Neville's response, trying unsuccessfully to hide the loneliness in tone. Gianni heard it and frowned but he didn't press, instead patted his shoulder.
"Ball tomorrow?"
That made Neville smile. "Of course." It had become a routine of theirs, a quick game of horse before Gianni went to man his truck at night. They'd talk about everything and nothing. Neville was certain he wasn't the only one in the house who needed a friend.
The house empty Neville set about keeping himself busy to keep his mind off the hole in his heart. Bruiser followed him around as he picked up the remnants of his own party. He didn't mind, he would have done anything to occupy himself at the moment. Something mindless so he didn't have to think about the number Paris texted him before she left.
She said he was divorced now and without children as if that might have meant something. Neville laughed thinking of it as he had when she said it. He ran an athletic training facility for underprivileged children whose families couldn't afford the dues of travel teams. It seemed to Neville that Brion had done well enough in his life without him so what were the chances he'd want to reconnect with him. "If for nothing more than a tentative friendship, you should call him bruh," Artemis, Paris' husband, told him. "I mean, what's the worse he can do...hang up." He shrugged his shoulders to that as he changed into his basketball shorts and tank top. After grabbing another beer and letting the dogs out, Neville flopped down on the sofa in the loft to watch some sports news.
He must have fallen asleep, the dogs barking outside woke him with a start. How long it had been he didn't know but judging by the intensity of the howls, the pack was ready to settle for the night. Neville thought it odd they be at the front door but didn't think much of it until he opened it and saw them standing guard. There was a bat by the door and he grabbed the handle before he unlatched the deadbolt, ready for whatever the dogs might be holding back.
"Wassup fellas," he said to them as he came out onto the porch. Bruiser came up the stairs and sat at his feet. Neville followed his line of sight to a suv parked just outside the gate. It was too dark for him to recognize make or model but when he turned to go back inside, the driver tooted the horn and flipped the headlights. A bark from Bruiser sent his adopted brother and sister inside, though Venus and Mars stayed at the door. "Shall we investigate?" A short yelp and a nudge was his answer. Neville laughed and made his way down to the ground with Bruiser right beside him. He got halfway to the gate when the driver got out of the car.
A man, about six feet and pretty well built was all Neville could make out with the headlights blinding him. He adjusted his grip on the bat as he slowed his pace. "Easy," he said in answer to Bruiser's low growl.
