Page 42 of Savage Enemy

“Then just fucking do it,” I said.

He came closer, slowly, one step at a time, pulling the blade from the apple to point it at me.

“What did you say to me, you little whore?”

“I said if you’re going to kill me, then just do it.”

My twin’s sneer tightened and twisted, hatred and malice gleaming in his eyes. It made me wonder if he might really do it this time. My death by taunting Aris into ending it for me.

Suicide by twin.

“Don’t worry, sister,” he said. “I’ll get my moment. Father’s already called the Russians. Once they confirm they don’t want your traitorous whore-ass anymore, I’ll do whatever the fuck I want. Sending you back to your lover and his little bastard one piece at a time sounds like fun.”

Ice needled through my veins. My stomach churned. I pushed down the nausea, recognizing Aris’s words not as a threat, but as a promise—one he would keep if I disappointed him.

Even with all my fear, I stared him down, silently daring him to do it now, to get it over with.

Marco appeared in the doorway.

“Aris. Father needs us downstairs.”

Aris glared daggers at me, knife at the ready.

“I’ll be down in a second.”

“Now,” Marco barked.

“We’re not finished with this,” Aris hissed as he pointed his blade at me. Then he turned on his heel and marched out of the room after Marco.

After they vanished, another figure appeared in my doorway. Santo stared blankly at me with a thin cardboard box in his hand. He opened the lid to reveal a deep-dish pizza.

“Hungry?”

“No,” I lied.

Sweet mother of Christ, it smelled divine.

My mouth watered, but I didn’t know if I could trust him. Then my stomach growled loud enough for him to hear.

Santo smiled, and that made the decision for me.

A fleeting image returned to me in a flash. I saw in that smile the little boy he used to be, but it vanished just as quickly.

My now-grown brother’s smile also disappeared, taking the light from his eyes with it. The moment was over, his true self reverting once again to the mask of cold boredom.

“Shove over.”

He nudged me out of the way so he could sit on the bed.

Once situated, he ripped the lid off the pizza box and tore it in half to make two makeshift plates.

Marco used to do it just like that when we were young. He’d take us to the park with a pizza, so we could spoil our dinner without anyone finding out. Every Sunday after church, while Saul met with various men at the house for business, Marco led the three of us out to the park.

It seemed like the perfect escape back then, especially from all those strange men who’d always made me uncomfortable in a way I hadn’t been able to explain until I was older. I never knew who those men were, but I knew enough to stay away.

My memories soured, and I shook my head to clear them away. They made me soft anyway. Weak.

I didn’t know who Santo was anymore. I didn’t know what to expect, and that scared me, so my best option was to keep my guard up, no matter how many memories rushed back to me now that I’d come home.

---