Chapter 2 Painfull

Brendan sat stiffly on the sofa. In front of him Lyla and Wyland sat side by side, while David and Sheryn sat on the other side of the sofa.

They both looked confused, while Lyla and Wyland looked scared and nervous, and Brendan looked cold and stiff.

"What happened?" Sheryn asked breaking the silence. Her voice trembled.

David squeezed his hand to calm his wife and himself. His instincts told him that soon he might be throwing his hand at one of the people in the room, apart from Sheryn of course.

Brendan turned and looked at Sheryn with a smile. "Looks like you should ask both of them, Mom," Brendan pointed at Lyla and Wyland. "Someone's going to have a big surprise for you and David."

"Brendan? Please ..." Lyla whispered pitifully.

She moved closer and took Brendan's hand but he slapped Lyla's hand away with a face that was clearly disgusted.

"Why are you begging me like that, Lail? Did you also use that tone when asking Wyland to fuck you?"

Wyland clenched his fists while Lyla started crying and Sheryn gasped.

"Hey, Bren, watch your words," Wyland snapped.

Brendan looked at Wyland with hatred in his eyes. He smiled sarcastically. "I have to watch my words? Don't you feel ashamed of your own words? At least what I say won't get a woman pregnant! You should take better care of your dick!"

David slowly turned his gaze to Lyla. "Lyla, are you pregnant?" asked David in an even tone.

Lyla nodded while crying.

"That baby ... Wyland's?" whispered Sheryn in a choked voice.

Lyla nodded again and her nod made Sheryn moan long while cupping her hands over her face. "Oh God, oh God." Sherym whispered in desperately tone.

Wyland gasped as David's hand grabbed his shirt and a hard smack hit his chin. For a moment Wyland felt something like a boulder hit his head, then he felt his body float and a few seconds later his body slid across the floor until it hit the wall behind him. Wyland squaked jn paint.

Lyla and Sheryn screamed in unison while Brendan didn't move at all. He just stared blankly at Wyland who was now being rocked by Lyla.

Sheryn dispelled David who seemed to be rushing towards Wyland again. "Dave, stop. You could kill Wyland," Sheryn shouted.

"I don't care," David snapped. "How could he do such a thing to his own brother's fiancé. He must have lost his mind!"

"It's not Wyland's fault, Mister Forbeen, it's my fault for not being able to take care of myself," Lyla groaned as she hugged Wyland.

Brendan got up from the couch. He walked over to Wyland and Lyla. Brendan turned and looked at David and Sheryn coldly and sharply.

"Mom, do you remember, I ever opposed you having a relationship with David? At that time I felt that our family might not get along with them. In fact, I never really got along with them. And you, Mr David Forbeen, even though I agreed in the end to call you Daddy, it's only because I'm tired of hearing my mother whine for me to call you that. As for Wyland, I never really thought of him as an older brother. He was greedy in my eyes and always tried to get what I had."

Brendan turned and looked at Lyla then turned to Wyland. He smiled coldly. "It's like this, seeing two garbage bags collected together. You guys deserve each other."

Brendan spat on the floor at Wyland's feet then staggered to the second floor. His bedroom door closed with a low sound and then the silence made the house feel like a graveyard. Only Lyla's sobs could be heard softly.

Sheryn plopped down on the sofa. "Why would you do something like that Lyla? You should have just refused when Brendan asked you to be engaged to him. Why should you hurt my son like this?" Sheryn muttered holding back tears.

Lyla shook her head. "No, Mrs Forbeen, I really love Brendan and I was so happy when he gave me the ring. What happened to Wyland I never planned to happen, madam. I'm sorry, really, I'm sorry," Lyla cried pitifully. Wyland grabbed Lyla's hand. "Don't be like that, Lail, I'm the one at fault here. I shouldn't have teased you then."

Sheryn looked at the pair of people who had broken her son's heart then looked at David who was sitting by her side.

Sheryn stood up and patted her husband's shoulder lightly. "I'm tired."

Sheryn walked away from the living room to the bedroom and closed the door. David heard the key turning and he took a deep breath. He stood up and pointed at Wyland. "Get out of here for a while. Don't you dare approach Brendan or Sheryn for a while. You've injured them deeply and I'm afraid this mess won't end here."

David left and a moment later the sound of his car leaving the yard. Wyland and Lyla hugged each other on the living room floor.

Meanwhile in his room, Brendan lay straight on the bed. He made his arms like pillows and looked up at the ceiling.

His tears were still flowing continuously and he was tired of wiping them.

He was still trying to digest what had happened and still couldn't figure out why Lyla and Wyland had hurt him in such a brutal way. He would forgive them if he could find just one fatal mistake he had done to them and would consider him even with his current situation. But nothing.

Brendan grabbed the phone and wiped his tears. "Jake, I need to talk to you and Arshan. Can we meet tonight as well, while Arshan hasn't left yet?"

" .... "

"I'll tell you later. I'll be waiting for you at Uncle Kay's club. While waiting, can you call your friend Harry? I'm selling that Harley Davidson he really wants tomorrow. Have him prepare his best offer."

Brendan came out of the room slowly and grabbed his car keys on the nightstand. He looked into the empty living room and smiled contentedly, then quietly walked towards the room at the end of the second-floor corridor.

Wyland's room was unlocked. He entered the room and moved quickly. He knew where Wyland had kept his safe and knew the combination number was the date of his mother's death.

Brendan opened the safe with ease and smiled with satisfaction at seeing Wyland's two motorized vehicle registration certificates. Harry would definitely be overjoyed with those beautiful Harley Davidson motorcycles soon to be his.

***