Polyamorous.

I haven't seen my brother in years.

It's literally been since I was fourteen that I've seen Callen. Given the situation that we come from, I don't blame him for getting out of here the first chance he got. But I really didn't think that he'd leave and never call me.

Sure, he has Quenton and probably a nice little house and possibly even a great job, but I'm still his little brother. Callen was the only thing keeping me sane and I believed that one day, whenever he escaped from this hell, he'd take me with him. But then again, I was nothing after all. So who could blame him for leaving me behind?

So when the doorbell rings, and my yells at me to move your faggot ass and go answer the door, the last thing I expect to see is that familiar mop of brown hair and brown eyes that mirror our mother's.

I nearly slam the door in his face, but my father calls out loudly. "Anaias, who the fuck is it?"

Callen's eyes flit to me, a look of guilt behind those dark irises and I shake my head, signaling his pity is not needed here. "Well are you gonna come in or what?"

He just nods, stepping through the door. I close the door behind him and lead him into the living room. My father looks like he's going to yell more profanities at me, but as soon as his eyes land on Callen, tht evil smirk that makes me sick to my stomach appears on his lips. His cigarette burns away in his left hand as he leans back in his chair and looks at us together.

"Well, look what the cat drug in. Long time, no fuck, my boy."

I cringe and mentally prepare myself for the fight that's surely going to happen. I don't know why Callen's here, but I swear, if he says anything remotely stupid that gets me a worse beating than normal tonight, I will find him and kill him my damn self.

"Still the same pig as I always, I see. Still preying on your own sons like the bastard that you are," My brother retaliates and I'm shocked. Even as kids, Callen never actually stood up to my father in such a way. And while I'm grateful that he's grown some balls, I also want to strangle him for attempting to smart mouth our dad when he's not the one who has to pay for it.

"What I choose to do with your brother is none of your business. He's mine. You left him here, so you must not have cared for the little shit too much. Besides, I recall a time when you were warming my bed as well," My father spits, throwing an awful, vomit-inducing wink towards my brother.

I watch as Callen cringes and looks to me with caring eyes, willing me to know that he cared about me all this time, still cares about me. I only shrug, internally battling with myself. I know that being in this house reminds him of all the horrible things we've been through, both together and alone. And the way my father is so casual about his sick, twisted ways doesn't help.

"Look, I didn't come here for you throw around what you've done to us like it's the trend of the year," Callen scolds, anger showing in his tone and posture.

And of course, being the curious little shit that I am, I have to open my big mouth and ask with an attitude, "Well, what the fuck did you show up for? Fucking three years since I've seen you and you come here and try to get ballsy with him?" I point at our dad. "Trust me, I don't need you. Don't need you to come here and cause me any more problems. I can do bad all by myself."

My brother looks at me, hurt obviously showing in those deep brown irises. But I couldn't care less. I really don't need him here. I could piss my dad off by myself. I don't need him to rile our father up more. My father claps, ever-lasting smirk covering his thin lips.

Callen takes a deep breath, shaking his head. "I didn't come here with the intention of causing trouble for you, Anaias. I came here with a proposition for dad. One that could either go very well for everyone, or sour for everyone. But either way, the choice is his to make."

My dad motions with his hand for me to walk towards him, and I don't hesitate to obey because I know that if I don't there will be hell to pay. When I reach the front of his seat, he orders me to kneel and I do, back towards him and front facing Callen. When I'm settled, dad leans forward, hands gripping my shoulders and lips ghosting over my ear and neck. I want to cower away, but my body knows better and I stay still, waiting for whatever is going to happen next. Callen, however, just watches with a red face as he grits his teeth.

"Now what kind of proposition could you have for me, son? Surely it doesn't involve me giving up this sweet and tender thing, now does it?" The words roll after my father's tongue so easily that if I wasn't in the position I am, I would have surely thrown up.

"Actually, it does," my brother says and my eyes widen.

"Well, this should be interesting," my fathers finger pull a the collar to my t-shirt, lips pressing a kiss to the skin of my shoulder before he bites down harshly, causing me to hiss out in pain. "What could possibly make me want to give up such a lovely thing? Just look at him. So yielding, so responsive," his fingers tangle in my hair and pull roughly and I can feel the tears coming but I only allow a whimper to come out. "I mean, do you hear that? He's so much more, how do I say, compliant than you ever were. Surely you don't think I'd ever willingly let you take him away."

"Listen here, fuck face," Callen grits, eyes wide and furious. "I don't care if you want to give him up or not. I've spent three years preparing for this and I'm only giving you two choices. Either you can keep him here, and I will march my ass right to the police station and make sure everyone in this godforsaken town finds out about how fucking sick in the head you are and you'll never see the fucking light of day again. Or, you can make it easy for everyone and let him go, we'll pack his stuff, and he comes with me. You'll never see or hear from us again and you get to keep your job and your life."

If my eyes weren't wide before, they surely are now. I mean, did he really just say all that? And to our dad? What the fuck is wrong with him? He waits three years for this? Three years of suffering alone and now this? I want to be grateful but I can feel the anger bubbling inside me. My father has still yet to answer, and I'm holding my breath, so scared of what his choice might be.

"So tell me, father, which one is it going to be?" Callen asks.

My father huffs, pushing me to the ground. I manage to think quickly and catch myself with one arm, feeling the carpet scratch against my palms. "You have one hour. One hour to pack his shit and get the fuck out of here before I change my mind. Because I swear, if I come back, and he's still here, I will have no mercy for him or you."

And with that, my father walks out. A few seconds later, the door slams and I can hear him starting up the engine to his old GTO. I look up at Callen and he offers me a weak smile, helping me to my feet. I return the smile reluctantly, turning my eyes back to the floor.

"I know you have questions and later I will make sure to answer whatever you throw at me. But we don't have much time and I don't want to have to kill him if he returns before we're finished. So let's go pack your shit and get the fuck out of dodge."

All I can do is nod and lead him upstairs.