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A part of me has always been the protector out of the two of us, I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the fact I’m slightly bigger than my brother, or that I just have a goddamn death wish. I was always the one to take the brunt of the beatings, not because Jett was any less of a target, but because I didn’t want him hurt too. He was smaller, so I acted as if I were the big brother, when really there’s half an hour between us in age.
Who fuckin’ knows, but the jealousy coursing through me is gonna make me do somethin’ I might regret.
“Don’t do this,” he says, determination in his eyes.
I don’t like that, either.
“You’re just dyin’ to be rid of me, so may as well not delay the inevitable,” I snarl back at him. “Since your own flesh and blood isn’t good enough anymore.”
“I never said that. Stop bein’ a dick.”
I back off, not willing to hit my brother, but I also don’t want to be around him anymore. I know he’ll pick the MC over me. It’s been coming for a while.
The life I promised the two of us when we ran away from foster care never happened.
Life on the streets is as hard as it sounds.
“Give me a call when Cash chews you up and spits you out,” I say, walking backward.
“Where are you goin’?” He frowns. “We can talk about this.”
Except we can’t. I don’t want to join the MC and Jett does. I don’t like authority, and I won’t be shit kicking as a prospect. If my brother wishes to go down that path, then I can’t stop him. But I’ll be damned if I’m gonna sit here and take it.
“Sayonara.”
I turn and walk away, leaving him and the unconscious asshole on the sidewalk.
“Rock?” he calls after me.
I give him a two-finger salute.
Fuck him.
Fuck everyone.
I can go wherever I want. Do what I want. I’m never gonna have anyone telling me what to do. Ever.
“Rock!”
Pain hits my chest when I walk away. I’ve never done life without my brother, but I know that I have to sever the cord at some point. He’s better than this. Better than me. Maybe I knew that all along and that’s why I kept pushing him away.
Jett is destined for better things. He doesn’t harbor the past like I do.
He doesn’t hate like I do.
He’s the good twin. And though I wouldn’t consider myself the evil twin, I’m no Boy Scout.
I ignore the ache inside me that he is no longer by my side, and when I get far away enough, I turn to look back and he’s gone.
Empty space.
He left me for dust.
I guess that’s what happens when time charms the fuck out of you and you think you have nine lives. But in the end, there’s nothing left inside you except an empty shell.
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ROCK
