The table between us quivers from the slam of my fists as they land into the finished hardwood. My breath turns ragged, chest burning hot, rage dripping down my temples with beads of sweat. He’s painting a nightmare I can’t accept in my head—Austin stranded alone, vulnerable, calling out for warmth in some godforsaken forest. Surrounded by the beasts of the wilderness, waiting to gorge on his innocence with their incisors. In the middle of it all, Drew slithers into the void I let happen. My twin brother snatching the love of my life with his greasy fingers and tacky tattoos.
“You’re not going near him,” I snarl, raw enough to sharpen a razor. “I’ll tear you apart before you so much asbreathehis name again.”
Drew trots his tongue over his lower lip, catching the smear of tomato juice, pupils glued to mine, like a predator awaiting the next move. His lips transform into an infuriating smirk, making me seethe with an anger I’ve never dared to explore.
“Funny thing about tearing, baby brother,” he drawls, low and cruel. “You can only rip something apart if you get to it first. Andwe both know Austin can’t resist wondering what it feels like when I sink my teeth in. Question is—when he cries out in the dark, who’s he going to beg for? The golden boy who kisses him sweet, or the devil who makes him scream?”
Would prison really be that bad if I drove my knuckles straight through his teeth? Knock a couple to ruin his cheeky grin. It might be worth every dollar I throw at a lawyer just to watch the snake spit blood, to remind him he’s not the only one willing to fight for what his heart claws for.
Losing Austin would extinguish my flame, a million gallons of ice-cold water poured over me until I entered hypothermia, easing me into a shivering cardiac arrest.
Without him, there’d be nothing left worth living for. No reason to kick another ball, no reason to wake up in the morning. Just one singular obsession consuming my veins—murdering my twin. Hunting him down with the same relentlessness he’s used to haunt Austin. Watching the life fade from his smug grin. Because if Drew ever stole Austin from me, there’d be no redemption, no forgiveness. Only vengeance.
“Don’t worry, older brother,” I growl, fists itching at my sides. “I’m going to find him first. And if you so much as step in my way, I’ll have no choice but to—”
Drew cuts me off with a venomous laugh. “But to what, Charlie? Kick a leather ball at my face? Put a bloody bruise on me with your golden foot? You really are a stupid fool.”
He leans back in his chair, ink slithering on his arms. “You think Austin’s going to choose the man who hides behind field goals andrules? Or the one who actually knows how to fight for what he wants? Not too afraid to colour outside the lines.”
I stand up. This conversation is pointless, I’m only scratching Drew’s itch. Every word I say brings joy to his twisted core, a black heart that chills with each deceptive act he carries out and flutters happily with every maleficent fantasy he dreams of.
“Stay away from me and stay away from Austin.” I hiss, heart rushing blood through every capillary. “If I see you near him, you’ll leave me no choice.”
I storm out of the restaurant before he can mutter a word.
It appears like I’ll be skipping practice this week. I don’t give a rat’s arse if they boot me. I have enough cash to buy a villa in Ibiza. All I care about is Austin and keeping him out of evil’s reach. Finding him before the darkness consumes my bright little ray of sunshine.
Before my sunflower is transformed into Drew’s black dahlia, each petal plucked away by his slimy fingers.
Chapter 13
Drew
Charlie’stoobloodyeasyto wind up. All it takes is a bit of petrol in the can, a spark on the line, and then you pull the strings. The more you wind, the messier it gets—like a weed whacker tearing through a graveyard at full tilt. You don’t know what you’ll shred next. Maybe it’s just grass, maybe it’s plastic flowers left behind by some grieving widow, maybe you nick the edge of a gravestone and leave a scar that can’t be buffed out. A permanent reminder that somebody fucked up.
That’s the thrill of it. The anticipation. Knowing that every time I spin him tighter, I’m dragging him closer to breaking. Eventually he’ll crack, and when he does, I’ll be chewing my popcorn watching him scream in agony as Austin chooses me over him. He’ll become a ghost of himself for a bit, but then he’ll get over it. He always does.
He’ll thank me one day, even if he can’t see it now. I suppose I may as well finish my Bloody Mary before heading out. There’s only one cardinal sin I won’t commit, and that’s leaving a drink unfinished. Alcohol’s the sweet release—a second dimension where the noise in my head turns into order. Where I can plot, scheme, and enjoy the thrill of it all without the sober itch gnawing at me.
Charlie? He’s always been dramatic. What’s he going to do when he stumbles across Austin on his knees, lips stretched around my prick, finally choosing the sexier brother? Beg Austin to stop? Bloody pathetic. Sounds just about right for my baby brother—pleading while his golden world crumbles in front of him. I’ll savour every second while he realises his place once again.
Silly, silly Austin. Did he really think he could scurry away from me—his King? I saw him sneak out the side garage door, in his posh beamer, I planted a tracker on all of those vehicles last weekend in case this scenario happened. A perfect insurance policy for this instance.
Wherever he runs, I’ll find him. Hell, if it comes to it, I’ll hunt him by scent. Those pouty lips won’t get far before I’ve got them gasping around my fingers.
Stepping out of the restaurant, I pull my phone from my pocket. One glance at the screen and there he is. Oi, Lover Boy’s already past Ely. Bold move, driving that far out in the middle of the storming darkness last night. A long trek for someone who should learn a lesson. Distance doesn’t save you from me. It only stretches the string I’ll use to pull you back.
He could fly halfway across the world, vanish into some forgotten bush village in Alaska, and it wouldn’t matter. I’d still catch him within the week—maybe two, if I felt like taking the scenic route through Kenai and Denali. A holiday for me, a nightmare for him. Because it’s not about speed. It’s about inevitability.
I want him terrified. I want him to feel the weight of my shadow no matter where he runs. To realize that every mile he puts betweenus is just another mile I’ll enjoy erasing. He can lie to himself all he wants, but deep down he knows the truth: I’m everything he’s running from—and the only thing he’ll ever run to.
Maybe I ought to make a stop, pick up a few new toys at my favourite shop, Velvet Restraint. The thought makes me grin as I fire up the Rover, the engine rumbling like it knows the chase is on. My luck is endless; Velvet Restraint is right on the way toward Ely. As if the universe itself is bending to my will, clearing the path for what’s meant to be.
Call it fate. Call it destiny. Or whatever you like. Austin’s mine. Every turn of the road only proves it. He thinks he’s fleeing, but really he’s guiding me straight to him. Leading himself into my jaws like a lamb too naïve to understand why the wolf is smiling.
Soon enough, those pouty lips will learn obedience. Soon enough, my little lamb will know the wolf was never chasing—he was waiting for cold lamby to return home, for the darkness guide him back to his master.
Pulling into the strip mall parking lot, I throw the SUV in park.
