Page 130 of Devotion

“Don’t do what? You said it yourself, we need to go back. Let us.”

“I…I can’t!” He lunges at Ciro, swinging a bit wildly. “I can’t let you go!”

Ciro bats the strike away, shoving Ero into the wall and shuffling back to me. The darker twin pushes off the wall, stumbling, dropping to his knees.

“Come with us, Ero. Maybe we can figure out how to get you away from Abas, you can?—”

“I don’t want to join the Bratva. I don’t want to be a Mocro. I just…”

“Just what?”

“I just want my brother. I need my brother back.” His words are filled with despair. But they are poisoned. Diluted.

“You are misguided. Lost. You do not want Ciro. You want absolution. To be taken away from your decisions and your failures.”

Ciro blinks, his shoulders dropping as Ero’s eyes widen, looking at me in horror. In anger.

“She’s poisoned you against me.”

“She’s right, though. You’re a mess, Ero.”

“You sound just like Adriano. You sound just like our condescending, patronizing, sanctimonious?—”

“Shut up, Fiero. I’ve had enough.”

“Don’t you get it, Ciro? We wereplayed. From the minute we were born! We were manipulated, used, thrown away. The only way out of this is for us to stick together. The only way out of this is for you to listen to me, Ciro, but you won’t!” He tears at his hair with his fists, his face contorting in furious confusion.

Ciro and I back toward the door as Ero rises, slicking his hair back and cracking his neck. He takes a deep breath and straightens his clothes before looking up.

When he does, his eyes are flat. Black. Empty.

“If you won’t listen to me, I’ll have to take things into my own hands and save you myself, or kill you trying.”

24

CIRO

True to my statement, my brother is gone.

The man that attacks us now is a ghost. A phantom.

Even with two against one, Ero has always been an unbelievable fighter. The past few months have only made him faster, stronger. Less hesitant.

The same could be said of me, but my training was different.

More survivalist.

More brutal. His was purely martial. Honed to be the most efficient weapon for killing.

He slides over the table, kicking at my head, forcing me back, flipping sideways to reverse the strike and knock Vanya back through the door, splintering it off the frame. Fists meet me as I recover, a rapid barrage of blows that have me ducking and weaving.

I take a few hits to find an opening, booting him in the chest and rushing to follow Vanya.

On the way out, I slip my hand under the entryway table, snatching the gun I just knew he would hide there. Outside, I blink in the bright sun, strafing out of the doorway and spotting Vanya backing to one of the cars in the driveway.

We both dive as a patter of bullets erupts from the house.

Great. He took the time to get out the big gun.

---