Forty-Two Stairs
Author:© WebNovel
Chapter 1: Chapter 1
1: Admitting
It hurt Owen’s shoulders worse to lower the box and set it on the ground then it did to keep holding it. But standing in the entranceway of the five and one-half metres square that was about to serve him as living room, bedroom, dining room and anything-other-than-showering-shitting-and-cooking room wasn’t going to get the rest of the boxes and furniture out of the truck and in place. “Positive,” he told himself. “Stay positive.”
“I’m positive,” a voice growled from behind him, “that if you don’t get the fuck out of the way I will kill you.”
Owen shuffled to the side, set his load down as his brother did the same, and grinned at Dennis’s bitter expression. “Kill me? You look like you can barely stand, let alone take a swing.”
Dennis narrowed his eyes. “Could you have found an apartment a little higher up?”
“Probably.” Owen shrugged. “But it would have come with an elevator and where would the fun have been in that?”
Dennis leaned against the mattress propped alongside the far wall, the starting point of the fortress of boxes that littered the tiny space and tried to catch his breath. “Forty-two goddamn stairs. Forty-effin’-two, baby bro. Did you consider that at all before signing the lease?”
He hadn’t. Not really. The most important factor of that particular piece of paper had been the notation that stated the apartment came with a monetary expectation of only four hundred and ninety-five bucks a month, utilities included. Considering he had no job, had barely come even after the sale of the house, what with the long list of legal expenses, fines and penalties being scooped right off the top, that was a very fine number indeed. “Well, it’s certainly not an upgrade, is it?” Owen resisted the urge to flinch and tightened his jaw. A mother’s voice should not cause so much damage to one’s nerves. Regardless, he bit back the retort his tongue was working on and turned to offer her a smile. “I didn’t imagine it was going to be.” He stepped forward when she put out her arms and gave her a stiff hug. “But welcome, anyway. We’re just about halfway done. Once we get the couch and the television up here—”
“Will it even fit?” she asked, eyeing the room once before stepping away to circle the apartment. She stopped at the cracked window, dragged her finger over the sill, and curled her lip at what she took away from it. “It’s not that bad,” Owen said. “It’s plenty big enough for—”
Her sigh shut down his attempt to lighten the conversation. “I still can’t believe you had to let the house go. And poor Eli—”
“Ma,” Owen lifted a palm and held it out. “Stop. I don’t want to talk about Eli or the house. Done is done and over is over, and all I can do is go forward from here.” He shot a quick glance at Dennis, did his best silent begging to be saved, and then rolled his eyes when Dennis merely looked away. Owen couldn’t blame him. Dennis probably figured he deserved the disdain. They were disappointed. Everyone was: Eli, his now too-soon-gone-to-think-about-without-daggers-lancing-his-heart ex-partner, his mother, his sibling, and his much-diminished circle of friends. Owen’s drinking had been out of control since he’d been a teenager, and everyone had known it. But for the most part, Owen had managed to keep it from affecting his life to any major degree. Right up until the first DUI a year and half ago. He’d lost his license for three months that round. The second one though, the most recent one…well, that had included an opposing car full of innocent people who only by the grace of something much larger than himself had walked away without anything more than bumps and bruises. The lack of fatalities had done nothing to soften the judge’s consequences, however. Bye-bye license, hello termination papers. Bye-bye Eli, and hello real-estate agent. Bye-bye normal early-thirties life with forward-moving career and a little bit of savings, hello back to living like a nineteen-year-old—broke, worried and struggling.
Dennis shoved himself forward, shook his shoulders, and nodded at Owen. “So? Round fourteen on our path to an early heart attack or what?”
A flash of light caught Owen’s attention before he could respond. He frowned, stepped to the window, and slapped both palms against the wall. “Shit!” He was already running out of the apartment as he spoke over his shoulder. “Your truck!”
He wouldn’t have believed he still had the energy to race down the stairs the way he did, more so shocked that he managed to keep mumbling the “Please don’t ticket, please don’t ticket” mantra the entire way. Dennis would kill him if he ended up costing Dennis any more than he already had. And all the gods in the heavens knew he couldn’t afford to give his brother the cash to cover a parking violation, either. He hit the second platform at the same time he heard Dennis’s footsteps above him. By the time he reached the small hallway of level one, stumbled around the ridiculously placed table with the sign that said “Do not mov thes”, serving no purpose whatsoever but to get in the way, and spun into the final set of stairs, Owen’s words were peppered with curses. They were expletives that rose in volume the closer he got to the entrance. They were not, however, nearly as loud as the “Oh shit!” that was suddenly choked out mere centimetres from his face.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone