A sharp, ear-splitting bang followed, and I winced behind my mask, wishing that I could’ve shielded my ears from the sound, but acknowledging that the move itself would’ve been a blatant display of weakness, and I was better than that—far fucking better.
My mind wandered as I attentively watched the guards carelessly drag the lifeless body of a man whose name I would never know out of the room.
“—and with our first target out of the way. Who’s next?” I caught the tail end of Dustin’s sentence as my hearing returned to normal and stood without wavering. My brother followed my lead and rose to stand beside me, as confidently as I felt—our twin bond tighter than ever.
“Our twins. How exciting.” He didn’t sound fucking excited—devious was the better word to describe it, ready to see more blood spilled beside his freshly polished shoes. “Bring in Mr. Jacobson.”
The second man was hauled into the room, faster this time, in the samefuck allmanner as before—gagged mouth, roughly shoved, and restrained to the metal chair that now had flecks of blood coating the backrest.
With eyes flared wide, this poor guy already knew what was coming to him; he probably passed the body of the man before him on his way in here.
“For the twins, a choice…” Dustin smirked, slipping his hands into the pockets of his slacks, as the two hulking men each offered a gun and a knife—a choice, to stab or to shoot.
Going with my gut, I reached out and took the knife. Lucas did the same in sync with me, showing just how alike we truly were—the handle’s weight in my grip as heavy as my conscience…
“I’m over being viewed as a disappointment. Fuck the world we left behind.Wepave our path,wedetermine our future. Who gives a shit if it's painted in other shades than plain black and white? This opportunity is a fuckinggift, and I’m taking it, whatever the cost may be.”
Lucas was right; we’ve spent our entire lives allowing others to judge us, and that stops here.
The move to Vegas was to make a name for ourselves—to become something everyone told us we could never be.
Money held power.
We would no longer be our parents’ greatest failure.
We were the Castiel brothers.
We did whatever the fuck we wanted.
Together, Lucas and I gripped Mr. Jacobson’s shoulders with opposing hands and, while pinning him in place, we plunged our knives into his chest.
The blades sank in deep, his white dress shirt bleeding red as his blood seeped from the wounds and soaked into the fabriclike a dry sponge.
I didn’t care to know who he was or Dustin’s reasoning for him being here. This man was my ticket to a life worth living—I’d ask questions later,or maybe not at all.
