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He’s taken a lot from me over the years. He’s robbed me of my control, my emotions, my happiness. My common sense even, and as a result, I’ve lost everything important to me.
But not this.
He won’t take this from me.
I’m going to find a way to get to Lucas.
And I’m also going to find a way to forget it.
Forget what he tastes like.
My ex-boyfriend’s best friend.
~Echo
CHAPTERELEVEN
The Bandit
I’m the second son.
The son born after the first. Obviously.
And as a second son, I only have one job: to be like the first.
To do as the first son does.
To talk like him. To walk like him. To like the things that he likes.
Basically, I’m supposed to follow his lead and be a second version of him.
My older brother.
Who’s good and responsible. Straitlaced and a star in all things he does.
Or at least that’s what I’ve been told all my life.
One thing about me: I don’t like being told what to do. Not sure where that comes from but it’s my major personality trait. I tend to get pissed off when people try to order me around and so I do the exact opposite.
Which means that all my life I’ve taken a job of my own: to do everything that I can to screw up the first job I was given, and emerge as my own person.
Bad and irresponsible.
A rebel and a disappointment.
It’s pretty fun actually, to be all those things. Quite easy too.
You get to do whatever the fuck you want. You get to screw people over, go against expectations. You get to be selfish, reckless, careless. You’re not bound by the mundane laws and rules like other people are. Not to mention, you get to party a lot, drink and smoke and fuck as much as you want.
Without actually giving a fuck.
And I don’t.
I never have.
Giving a fuck is not something that I do. It’s not my MO.
Or it wasn’t until two years ago.
