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And it’s all because of the bastard who hasn’t made a move.
Every night, I’ve been staring at my window, expecting him to jump through and murder me.
But people like Landon don’t murder. They prefer to leave you hanging, waiting, and scared for your life. They prefer the mental torture and looming threats.
“Are you sure he’s not here?” I show the typed words to Bran as we sit down for a dinner break.
He’s opposite me on the sofa as we dig into Thai food takeout.
We’ve both been playing since we finished our afternoon classes. We’re worlds apart in majors—he’s an art student and I’m studying business management since I’ve always wanted to start something that only belongs to me. Not my parents, not my legacy. Just something that’s purely mine.
Bran says he should be in the art studio, but he’s been succumbing to ‘one more game’ for the past two hours.
He chews on the mouthful of rice and shakes his head. “He’s out wreaking havoc and ruining someone’s—or some people’s—lives. Why are you asking? Are you scared?”
“He should be the one who’s scared after my pig blood episode.” I don’t even feel the confidence as I show him the words.
Bran merely sighs. “I told you it’s not wise to get on his bad side.”
I wince and throw a piece of tomato in my mouth to mask my reaction.
Bran did warn me when I asked him stuff about Landon’s Elite party that night.
I cock my head to the side and study him closely. He’s the spitting image of his asshole brother. But I guess it’s the personality that makes all the difference.
Bran is such a posh boy and what I imagine a well-bred and educated English youth to be like. His eyes are welcoming pools of pure blue, his jaw appears less sharp than Landon’s, and his lips are neutral and by no means a weapon of terrorizing grins.
Oh, and their only real physical difference is that Landon has a tiny mole at the corner of his right eye. A small detail that I noticed the first time I saw them together.
I remember thinking Landon needed to be brought down a peg or two, and I can proudly announce that I’m still of the same opinion.
Hell, maybe he should be locked up for the travesty.
It’s impossible to mistake the two brothers for each other, and I don’t think that has to do with my being an identical twin myself and, therefore, skilled in the business of differentiating.
The truth remains, one is always calm, and the other is the definition of a shit-stirrer.
Besides, I don’t feel threatened in Bran’s company, whereas I’m always in fight-or-flight mode in Landon’s presence.
“What is it?” Bran asks when I continue watching him. “Is there something on my face?”
I type, “I was just thinking how different you guys are.”
“Just like you and Maya are different, no?”
“She’s not a psycho.”
“Touché.” He laughs and takes a sip of a ginger lemon soft drink. “Still, I’m impressed with what you did the other day.”
Thanks, but it’s backfiring and causing me so much stress.
“He said he’ll make me pay,” I type and then show him my phone.
Bran gauges my expression. “Did you by any chance…challenge him?”
“How do you know that?”
“You shouldn’t have done that, Mia. It’s the easiest way to get on his shit list.”
