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SadicSis: We need to talk about Eva.
I grit my teeth, my jaw ticking as I type back: No, we don’t.
SadicSis: I’m asking you as a favor. She’s my best friend. Besides, you already scared the shit out of her. She got the point.
Me: And I’m only getting started.
SadicSis: I won’t let you destroy her life.
I scoff to myself. If this were anyone else, I would ask her what she was going to do about it, because there’s nothing anyone can do to stop a Heathen King on a mission. We’re the lords of the weapons and pharma industries, and we run some of the most dangerous paramilitaries in the world. I also run the Flaming Skulls for some local fun, the leather jacket with the crowned skull in flames on my back marking me as their leader. When I say “jump”, they ask how high.
And then there’s the demons I wrestle with every day.
Sometimes I wish that piece of shit Romano had had his way, and that he had managed to kill me when I was a toddler, so I wouldn’t have to deal with them. The poison flows through my veins every day, along with the need to crash my fist into the mirror every morning. My natural state is one of aggression, like I’m a ticking time bomb. Sade and Justine are the two people who make existence more bearable for me, but they can only do so much.
But lately, there are also the moments when I think about doing kinky things to the philosophy professor, and my blood starts to boil in a whole new way. In a way that promises freedom from the shackles of venom and spite, even if only for a few moments.
SadicSis: Don’t you leave me on Seen, Micah.
Me: Don’t you and that ever-horny-for-you brother of mine have anything better to do than pester me about the whore-professor?
SadicSis: She’s not a whore! You don’t understand.
Me: Then explain it to me.
It’s not like I’m not open for conversation.
I wait, the corner of my mouth lifting up in a sardonic smirk as the Skulls roar and smash pints against the floor. Beast Mode bends Mireille Dupoint over a bar stool and takes her ass, cursing under his breath.
Three bubbling dots appear on the screen only to disappear again. It takes a few moments until SadicSis starts typing again. But, of course, she doesn’t know what to tell me, as I expected.
Eva Brannan knows how to wrap people around her little finger, especially someone as trusting as Justine. Of course she got Justine to believe there’s nothing between her and Romano while playing the “I can’t tell you the truth, but I’m asking you to trust me” card.
And when a long text that uses a lot of words but doesn’t say much finally appears on my display, my hunch is confirmed. I snap a selfie with a hand on my chest, feigning being touched by her argument. The answer to my selfie arrives a few seconds later.
SadicSis: It’s unfair that she should have to give up everything she’s worked for just to protect herself from you, Micah. You should know that.
My eyebrows dip.
Me: Give up everything?
Complete silence. Not even the dots move. In all my time as a paramilitary operative, reading people’s reactions has become second nature. I know exactly how to read between the lines—literally and figuratively. The girl I’ve come to see as my little sis gave away too much.
When she finally texts again, I know she decided that less is more. I also know that she doesn’t realize her mistake.
SadicSis: Just don’t hurt her, please. Don’t do it for her, do it for me. She was there through the hardest moments of my life. I owe her.
I grit my teeth. I fucking hate that she’s rubbing the good side of Eva Brannan in my face. She was an advocate for Sade and Justine’s relationship, which means that, in some way, I owe her for big bro’s happiness, and now little sis is using it against me.
But I know just the way to pay my dues while also punishing the cold, calculating temptress for planning to take Mother’s place. Justine doesn’t understand the scope of evil that her best friend is capable of and, even if she could understand, she’d probably refuse to.
