by Tiya Rayne
“He doesn’t like when I get this way,” I say to the coward tied to the chair. His face is jaundiced, probably from what I’ve been feeding him for two hours straight. “He thinks he’s so different from me, but he isn’t. The Church took us both. They didn’t only want me, they wanted him too.”
Joshua starts to cry, and the sound grates my nerves. “Please let me go,” he blubbers. “I apologized.”
I shake my head. “Your apology isn’t worth shit to me. I’m going to make you eat every vile word you said to her last night.”
The speakers in the room begin to ring, alerting me to a phone call. I lift the remote and press talk to start the call. “This is Seth.”
“Seth,” Hawk’s panicked voice comes through the line and I’m immediately on alert.
“Everything all right, Brother?”
“I can’t find her. She’s gone. I…I…I…” The phone goes silent and when a voice comes though again, it isn’t Hawk.
“We need Lucien,” Priest demands a lot calmer than Hawk.
“Lucien isn’t here. He’s somewhere being a sour bitch.”
I pick up the meat cleaver off the table, weighing the heaviness in my hand. This would never be my preferred weapon of choice. It’s entirely too heavy, but it will work for right now.
“I don’t have time for your shit, Twin. Put your brother on the phone,” comes another order from Priest.
I walk over to Sam’s dead body sitting in the chair and lift an arm. I swing the meat cleaver, severing the appendage down to the bone. A second swing cuts it away from the body.
“As I said, I’m busy, and he isn’t here.” Heading back to my workstation, I place the arm down beside the meat grinder. The asshole behind me starts to cry profusely.
“Don’t make me do it, Seth.” Priest sighs.
My body stiffens. “Don’t you fucking dare,” I growl.
The sharp high pitch sound comes through the loud system, echoing throughout the house. I roar out my frustrations.
“Fuck you, Priest.” I slam the meat cleaver onto the table.
Within seconds, Lucien appears. “What’s going on?”
Lucien
I cross my arms over my chest as my brother leaves. He knows he’s out of line. Whenever one of our brothers needs us, we always hand over the call. This shouldn’t be an issue anymore.
“The girl is gone,” Priest huffs out. “Hawk’s losing his shit. We need you to locate her.”
“Any leads?” I ask, gazing around the room at the mess Seth left me with. As always, I have to be the one to clean up his shit. The sound of whimpering reminds me of the guy still tied to the chair.
“No, she left out of the hotel room angry and we haven’t seen her in an hour. We’re headed to your place as we speak.”
My heart goes out to my brother, Hawk. I can’t imagine the girl I love going missing. A vision of Malia pops into my head, causing a fast pulsing in my chest.
“All right, I’ll get started pulling the hotel cameras.”
“Good idea.”
Rubbing at the back of my neck, I say, “Heads up, I’m going to need a private clean up.”
Priest goes silent on the line. I know he is still there; he’s quietly turning over what I asked. “That’s what he was doing?”
“Yeah,” I reply, already knowing who the he is.
“Is it bad?”
I glance around again at all the blood and vomit. “Yeah, but there’s a survivor.”
Priest sighs through the other end of the phone. “You’re losing control with him. That shit he pulled over the phone is proof of it.”
“I know, Priest. I’m working on it.”
“Work harder. We don’t have time for bullshit. I told you, the Church is changing and shits not adding up. I can’t risk your brother doing something to put us all in jeopardy.”
I want to argue, I told them this before. I told Priest he should’ve left my brother where he was, the day he showed up at that hospital to recruit me. To unleash him on the world would be detrimental.
He promised to teach me how to be the stronger twin. Strong enough to control Seth. To manage his craziness. Yet here we are twenty-five years later and he still runs wild.
“I’ll manage,” I reply instead.
I disconnect the phone, glancing over to the man I encountered last night, I shake my head and turn away from him. There’s nothing I can do for him now.
Chapter 13
Make Me Ask
Lucien
* * *
“Can you stop touching my stuff,” I say without taking my eyes off the screen. This is why I don’t invite people into my private office and why I desire to work alone.
Priest tosses the stress ball back down on the table. Even though I’ve asked him to get his feet off my desk, they still remain there.
“For fuck’s sakes, Hawk, you’re going to wear a hole in the man’s floor. Sit your ass down.”
“I can’t. She’s out there alone, without me.” Hawk stops in his constant pacing to pull at his hair.
“Relax, she will be fine,” I say, trying to calm him down.
“How can you be so sure?” he asks.
Priest rolls his eyes. “If I haven’t killed her yet, surely whoever took her can refrain as well.”
I fight to hold back my laugh. We’ve been at this since she was taken yesterday morning and here it is eight o’clock, Sunday and we still have yet to lock down her location. I was only able to pull a partial license plate off the tag.
I’ve been running different combinations nonstop. I pull my glasses off to rub at my eyes. I can feel the start of a headache pushing through.
“How about you go grab some food,” Priest says to a distraught Hawk. “It will help you take your mind off of things.” Hawk must pick up in Priest’s tone there’s more to the suggestion than him worrying about my brother eating.
With a nod, Hawk spins on his heels and marches out of my office, slamming the door behind him. Priest waits only a second longer before putting his feet back on the floor. He leans forward in his seat, placing his elbows on his knees.
“You want to tell me what sparked that shit downstairs yesterday?”
No, I think, but I know it won’t be that easy with Priest. Leaning back in my seat, I exhale. “I ran into a problem Saturday night. He didn’t like the way I handled it.”
There’s another beat of silence. I glance over to see those shrewd eyes, the ones that never let me get away with bullshit, narrow.
“You going to tell me everything or are you going to be a pussy about it and make me ask?”
I run my fingers through my hair. “It’s nothing.”
“He sewed their assholes shut and force fed them vomit. Apparently, if we hadn’t interrupted, he was going to feed the last guy the ground up meat of his departed friend.”
I swing my gaze over to a straight-faced Priest. “What triggered him?”
My attention drops to the keyboards in front of me. “I don’t know. He’s been unpredictable lately. Especially since Angel died.”
I won’t tell Priest about finding Malia. I know what he’s going to say. He’s going to tell me all the reasons why I can’t have her.
How the Church won’t allow it. How they will take her away from me. He’ll even tell me Seth won’t let me keep her.
How it isn’t safe to have her while my brother is so unstable. So, I don’t tell him about her, or that I found the only girl my brother ever wanted. The girl I refuse to share with him.
Priest rubs at his chin, studying me with those cold eyes. My face remains neutral. I can thank the Church for years of teaching me how to control my facial expressions. Finally, Priest huffs, leans back in his chair, and shrugs.
“I won’t twist your balls about it. Just know, I’m not going to be there to clean up his shit when he gets out of hand. That’s on you.”
“I can handle it.”
There’s another long pause from Priest
before he nods and stands.
“Put all your energy in finding the painter. The faster I can get her ass back to Hawk, the faster I can get back to my own shit.” With those final words, he walks out of the room.
Turning back to my computer, I go to one of my other monitors, and type in the passcode. The screen comes to life and MP Books and More appears. The camera of the coffee shop across the street is angled right at the bookstore. I tapped into it the first night after we met.
Malia comes on screen, she’s writing the special for the day on her little chalk board outside. I don’t even register the smile on my face until I happen to glance up into one of the blank computer screens and catch the grin on my lips.
I pull out my phone and call her. The screen shows Malia pulling her phone out of her pocket, I zoom in in time to see a smile spread over her face.
“Good morning.” Her voice carries through the phone, relaxing my tensed shoulders. “How was your night?”
I briefly texted Malia last night to let her know I was working late.
“Nonstop. I’ve yet to get any sleep.”
On the camera she frowns, I’m assuming not liking my response.
“Then you shouldn’t be on the phone with me. You should be getting some rest.”
“I still have a few hours left on this job. I only wanted to hear your voice.” Another smile graces her lips. “I also wanted to know if you thought anymore about our second date.”
Her light laughter comes through the phone. “Second date? We haven’t been on the first. No dating, remember?”
“You can’t fault a guy for trying.”
A brief laugh breaks from her lips before silence greets me.
“Hypothetically speaking,” she says hesitantly. “Where would our second date be?”
I chuckle and it completely lightens the mood from my conversation earlier.
“How about a tour of the Metropolitan Museum of Art? I used to love that place when I was a kid.”
“Are you serious? Me too.” God it feels good to have someone who I can relate to.
“Well, then it’s set. You and me, at the MET this Saturday and maybe afterwards we can have some dinner.”
A few moments of hesitation and I wonder if I’ve overstepped with the dinner invite. I wasn’t lying when I said I could be persistent. As soon as I open my mouth to back out of the offer, she replies.
“This Saturday sounds fine.”
“I’ll see you then?”
“Goodbye, Lucien.”
“Bye, Malia.”
Her phone clicks, letting me know the call has been disconnected. I place my phone down on the desk.
I have a lot of reasons to let Malia go. Hell, my brother alone is enough to convince me to back away. Yet, I can’t let her go. Not after finding her after all this time.
The pinging of my computer screen reminds me what I’m doing here in the first place. My door slams open and Hawk rushes in.
“What did you find out?” he asks.
Scanning over the screen, I reply, “It seems your girlfriend is in jail.”
Chapter 14
Cookie
Malia
* * *
“Cookie.” The little voice comes from behind me.
I turn around to find the cutest little boy. His round cheeks are rosy from the brisk fall air. Dark brown and blonde curls fall to his forehead. His dark olive skin tone gives away his biracial ethnicity. I look up to tell his parent or guardian how cute he is, but no one is there.
“Cookie,” he says again with his gaze fixed to the floor.
The kid can’t be older than five or six, he shouldn’t be alone.
“Hey, buddy, where is your mom?”
He looks up past my shoulder to the wall behind me. It’s then I notice his big forest green eyes. He brings his hand up near his face and flicks his thumb against his pointer finger a few times. He then looks back down to the display case and points at a chocolate chip cookie.
“Cookie,” he repeats.
I walk from around the counter, still searching the bookstore for whoever he’s with. I squat down near him, not close enough to crowd his space.
“You like cookies?”
He nods, without turning away from the display case.
“How about this? You help me find who you came with and I’ll give you a cookie.”
He turns to me, pursing his lips in thought. He stares at my feet for a moment as if he’s weighing his options. Finally, he nods.
“Okay,” I say with a relieved smile.
I stand up straight and he reaches out a hand to me. I take his hand in mine and he turns toward the door. We don’t even get halfway there before a woman rushes in looking frazzled.
Her light brown skin is blotchy red, her eyes have the wild look of someone who’s close to going crazy. She scans my bookstore and when her eyes land on the little boy beside me, relief sags her shoulders and tears fill her eyes. She runs to us dropping to her knees, then wraps her arms around the little boy, giving him a tight hug.
My heart goes out to the woman. I can only imagine the minutes of utter fear she must have felt when she couldn’t find her son. She lets him go and leans back as she wipes tears from her eyes.
She’s a gorgeous girl. She has a tawny skin tone and her brown upturned eyes are still pretty, despite the bags and exhaustion that seem to weigh them down. Long thin box braids hang to her hips and are tipped a light brown.
“Gabe, give me your eyes,” she says. He lifts his gaze to her. Then she continues. “You can’t do that. You scared me shitless.”
He silently stares back at her. It’s then she realizes he’s still holding my hand. She straightens, standing a few inches shorter than me.
“Hi, I’m Summer. I’m Gabe’s mom.” She holds out her hand for me to shake and I use my free hand to shake hers. For some reason, Gabe isn’t letting my hand go.
“Malia,” I say as an introduction. “I was just about to have this handsome little man lead me to you.” I look down at Gabe and he’s staring at our clutched hands with a big smile.
“I’m sorry about all of this. He sometimes has a one-track mind. We were next door at the apothecary shop and he must have smelled your cookies.” She looks down at her son lovingly.
“It’s no problem. I have a daughter around his age. Six, right?”
“No, actually, he recently turned four.”
Surprised, I look down at the kid. He is tall for his age. She must read my thoughts because she laughs and replies, “His dad was tall.”
“Well, if you don’t mind, I made him a promise that if we found you, I’d give him a cookie. Is that okay?”
“Cookie,” Gabe says again.
His mother and I both laugh at his one-track mind.
“Do you have anything Gluten free by chance?”
I smile proudly.
“Actually, we do. The chocolate chip one he keeps pointing to is Gluten free.”
“He’ll take that one,” she says.
I attempt to tug my hand from Gabe’s, but his grip tightens. I decide to let him come with me. It isn’t until I get back to the display case that he let’s go of me. I wash my hands and go to get him two cookies.
“He likes you,” Summer says, smiling down at her son. “He usually doesn’t let new people close to him. Let alone hold his hand.”
I look up in time to see her shaking her head as if in disbelief before I return back to my task.
“Well, good, I like him too.” I use the tongs to get two cookies out and place them in a bag for him. “But probably not as much as he likes cookies.”
We both laugh as I hand Gabe his cookies. All the trouble is worth it when he looks up over my shoulder once more and gives me the cutest chubby cheeked smile I’ve ever seen.
“Thanks again,” Summer says, taking her son’s hand.
“No problem. Come back and visit me, Gabe.” I wave at them before they turn and leave. I watch as mother and so
n head out of the store hand and hand.
I go back to my work, checking over the list of things to do today when the bell over the door chimes, letting me know someone came in. I turn around to spot John, our mailman, delivering the mail for the day.
“Here you go, Malia,” he greets with a smile.
“Hey, John. How’s the kids?” I grab him his favorite snickerdoodle cookies out of the display case, wrapping them in a napkin.
“Being rambunctious boys like always.” I hand him over the cookie and he slips me the mail.
Right away I notice I have another envelope from my secret admirer. I’m so distracted by it, I don’t realize John is gone until the bell rings again. This time two men walk in, both tall with wide shoulders. One has dark brown scraggily hair and the other has a low cut with a nose that looks as if it’s been broken quite a few times.
Both men look over to me before taking a seat near the window. I don’t really think much of them, but the way they seem to watch me is a bit unnerving. The guy with the shaggy hair winks at me and smiles before turning to his friend.
I shake off the unsettling feeling and go back to my envelope. Sliding my finger under the seal, I open the letter, that familiar scent greeting me. Pulling out the contents, I look over the card catalogues. “Beastly,” by Alex Flinn, “The Fall of Five,” by Pittacus Lore, and “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban,” by JK Rowling. Three more random books that don’t tie in together in anyway.
I sigh before stuffing the cards back in the envelope.
“Hello.”
I jump, nearly leaping out of my skin at the sudden greeting. I look up to find the guy with the shaggy hair standing over me. His blue eyes crinkle around the edges with his laugh.
“Sorry to scare you. You were so caught up in your letter, I didn’t have any other way of getting your attention.”
Placing a hand over my racing heart, I smile. “My apologies. What can I get for you?”
