Unforgotten (Forgiven)

his whole life so I wouldn’t fuck mine up, and I’d fucked it up anyway.
“Hey.” Gus was beside me. Somehow I’d missed his large frame crossing the kitchen. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Just that he works too hard and doesn’t listen to me when I tell him to take time off. I was thinking maybe you could tell him too...or make him an offer he can’t refuse.”
“You want me to proposition my own brother? Told you Grindr was messed-up.”
Another Gus laugh warmed the kitchen. “I was thinking more ask him to spend some time with you. Do some stuff together. It’s been a while, right?”
It had been longer than that. The closest we’d come to an extended period of time together had been when Luke had visited me in the hospital after I’d smashed my shoulder. I’d been high as hell and told him to go fuck himself. He’d stayed a little while anyway. After that, we’d talked on the phone, frequently during the trial, but it had died off when we’d run out of shit to say about other people, and never come back. I was dreading him checking up on me, let alone what I’d do if he morphed into someone else and wanted to spend actual time with me.
Nerves and guilt threatened the home Gus’s beef sandwich had made in my stomach. People thought I was bad at controlling my emotions, but it was the opposite. I was a dab hand at convincing myself I didn’t care, about myself or anyone else. But something had switched in me since my brother had been run down by a speeding car and left for dead. Whether I wanted to or not, I did care. A lot.
Just not enough to spend time with him.
I got up and took Gus’s place at the kettle. “I have a better solution. You can do Luke’s job, and I’ll do yours.”
“Huh?”
“You heard.” I opened a random cupboard and fortuitously discovered the coffee. “I haven’t worked on the roofs since I was a teenager, but I don’t remember it being that hard. Tell Luke to take his fucking holiday, yeah?”
Gus said nothing for so long I wondered if I’d made the proposition in my imagination. Then he sighed in a way that kept my gaze on the mugs of coffee I’d made while he’d stared down the side of my head. “You’re kind of missing the point, but I guess that’s better than nothing. If I can persuade him, can you start in the morning?”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yeah. I leave at seven. That too early for you?”
“No.”
“Sure about that? You were out like a light when I left this morning.”
“How do you know that?”
Gus reached for one of the coffee mugs. “You left the door open, and I’m a creeper, remember?”
“Your words, not mine.”
“Uh-huh. See you in the morning.”
“You’re not coming home tonight?”
“Wasn’t planning on it unless you need me for something?”
I didn’t need him for anything, but somehow, the thought of him leaving and not coming back until morning made me feel sick. I shook my head and found my phone for something to do.
Gus left the room. A moment later, the front door opened and shut. Trepidation filled me, melding with the nausea in the pit of my stomach. I got up and treaded to the hallway. Gus had gone. His coffee cup rested on the windowsill, and the crumpled five pound note was still on the floor.

Gus
Luke: don’t let him steal anything
Gus: have a little faith
Luke didn’t reply. I was hoping because he’d gone back to bed, but if I knew him at all, I’d have bet my house that he was on his way to the gym, which left me sat in his van, waiting for his brother to emerge from said house.
I checked the time—06:59—and pondered breakfast. It had still been dark when I’d skulked out of a hotel room ten miles away, leaving a semi-regular fuck buddy in a blissed-out coma. Lucky him. I’d barely slept a wink, and now I was so wired only the thought of a double bacon roll was keeping me in my seat.
The passenger door opened. Billy slid in beside me, clad in his jeans, boots, and a hoodie. It wasn’t exactly company uniform, but it’d do.
It’d do even better if he looked at me.
“Morning,” I tried. “Sleep okay?”
Billy dumped his feet on the dashboard. “Nope. You?”
“Not really.”
“Bad date?”
He still wasn’t looking at me. I shifted in my seat, wishing I’d taken a longer shower. “Nah. Just restless. Hungry?”
“Nope.”
“Well, I am, so I’m going to swing by the bakery. Let me know if you change your mind.”
He didn’t. I bought him a sandwich anyway, but he left it on the seat between us, leaving me torn between eating it myself and studying his profile every moment we were caught in traffic. He hadn’t shaved, and his shaggy hair was perfectly mussed. Even the smudges beneath his eyes suited him.
My gaze drifted to his hands. His knuckles were battered and scarred, and I already knew his palms were as rough and calloused as mine. Work hardened, which boded well for the week we had ahead. Despite his bravado the day before, roofing was a tough gig.
We pulled up at the flat-roofed house we were resurfacing. I turned to Billy and nudged him until he glanced up from his phone. “When did you last climb a ladder?”
“In general? Or to fix a house instead of burgle it?”
“All of it.”
“I don’t rob houses anymore unless someone annoys me enough to deserve it, and I last worked for my uncle six years ago until he sacked me and gave you my job.”
“I didn’t take your job, man. You’d been AWOL for months.”
Billy grunted. “My point is, I’m not as useless as you think. And whatever Luke tells you, I’m capable of doing as I’m told.”
“He never said—okay, maybe he did. But I never said you were useless. Don’t make things up for us to argue about.”
“Who’s arguing?”
“Not me,