Page 63 of Twins for the Enemy

“I’m also more sympathetic toward her too.” She shrugs. “She took me by surprise, and the only thing I knew about her was that she—well, I thought that she set the fire. Actually, maybe that’s right. I’m sympathetic toward Farah. It’s you that should be sympathetic to the brother.”

“Are you having an aneurysm? How much have you had to drink so far?”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m sober. Almost sober. Moderately sober. But you’re the one whose mind is clouded. Think about it. You kidnapped a pregnant woman to get revenge for me. You went so far as to imprison her in a room and threaten her with blackmail. Why did you do that? Because you wanted justice for me. Her brother tried to burn down a building for Farah being unfairly fired. I’m not excusing him, but I understandhaving a brother who is rash and cares more about revenge than what his sister wants.”

“That is complete bullshit,” I say. “I didn’t endanger anyone else.”

“I don’t think it’s as noble as you think it is to say that you hurt someone you cared about over a stranger.”

She stands up. “I still think he should go to prison, of course. And I sure as hell don’t want him at my engagement party. But now that you’ve told me all that, I get it. Seeing you talk about her also made me realize something. I’ve been fearful of marriage for a long time because I thought a man would leave me as soon as my looks faded. I loved Henry, but I didn’t completely trust him. Even getting my mom’s ring adjusted, I kept putting it off and told Bettiol to meet me so late because I thought he’d refuse to do it. I wanted a sign to tell me to bail. But Henry loved me even with my burned skin. Since that night, I’ve been certain that I’m going to spend every night with him until one of us dies." she takes a deep sigh. “We’re runners, Kieran. We hate commitment because of ourchildhoods. But even if this woman isn’t the one, I hope you find that kind of love someday. But with the way you talked about her, I think she is the one. You don’t want the flames to be right outside your door and realize that you’ve been delaying the best days of your life.”

I look down at the mini replica. Henry usually worked on massive five-star hotels and resorts, but this one is a house. Their future house.

It means something to construct a world where your partner will be safe, and a place that they can return to. The outside can be in flames, and all you need is to be the lap for her head to rest on.

Whether the fire comes or not, one day we’ll all be ash. I’m going to be certain that I’ll spend every night with Farah until one of us dies.

In folklore, mongooses and venomous snakes are supposed to be archenemies—but that’s not really true.Snakes are just snakes, dangerous to anything that gets too close. Mongooses don’t go looking for fights. They’re fast enough to dodge a strike and wired to resist venom, but it’s not some dramatic rivalry. They’re just trying to protect their space, their young. Tearing a snake apart is just instinct.

That’s what I’m thinking about when Neal opens the door and sees me standing there. His body tenses like he’s coiling up, and I swear I can almost hear a hiss in the back of his throat.

“She said you’d show up,” he says. “I’ll give you this—you’re a punctual killer.”

He’s weirdly calm. Almost like he’s given up.

“I’m not the one who tried to burn someone alive,” I say. “But I could be, depending on how this goes.”

His eyes go wide, then settle back into that bored, deadpan expression.

“I can stay out here in the hallway,” I add. “But I’d rather talk about your crimes inside.”

“And why would I invite Death into myliving room?”

“It’s usually smart to stay on Death’s good side,” I say, rolling my shoulder as he flinches. “We can’t stop fate. But we can dull the blow when it hits.”

“We could also just steal fate’s hammer.”

I give him a tight smile. “A nice thought. And we both know how fate deals with nice thoughts.”

He makes a noise low in his throat, then steps aside to let me in. As I walk past, he stiffens even more, and something old and primal kicks up inside me—the instinct to neutralize a threat.

I take a breath and sit on the couch. The mirror’s cracked. Wasn’t the last time I was here. Back then I was offering him pills in exchange for his sister’s location. He folded fast—too fast to be a snake. Just a shell. Shedded skin. A ghost of who he used to be.

Exactly how Farah sees him.

“I’m here to ask you to turn yourself in,” I say. “For Farah’s sake.”

He leans against his dresser, which is oddly placed in the middle of the hallway. Two splinters of wood arenear his feet. It makes me think of tinder for a fire. It makes me think of when Farah demolished my door to escape, but she never left. Not until now.

“Farah is fine,” he says. “I know you think you’re some weird-ass guardian, but I’ve been her guardian much longer than you.”

“If this is you being her guardian, then I’d hate to see what it looks like when you’re trying to sabotage her.”

He lurches forward. I don’t move, except for my hand clenching and imagining his throat inside it. He stops right in front of me, his breath smelling like old, damp clothes.

“Where do you get off judging me over my relationship with my sister?” he hisses. “You’re just some fucker who wanted a body to jack off with. I know her better than you ever will, and I’ll be by her side long after she forgets your name.”

I don’t respond. Just look at him. And eventually, the fight drains out of his face, his shoulders sagging like a crumpled tent. It’s a miracle no one’s killed him yet.

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