Page 6 of Yours to Break

“We’ll take it. Send the details through. Thanks, Uncle Wes,” Hayes declared, sending a smirk in my direction. Ugh.

“Will do. Try to have fun, I guess,” Wes quipped, ending the call. I let out a dramatic sigh, resulting in Hayes rolling his eyes at me before opening the car door and stepping out onto our driveway. I followed suit, leaving the car and entering our shared house to throw myself onto the living room couch.

Greyson had thought it was ridiculous for Hayes and me to buy a house together; I still disagreed, even after living in close quarters with my twin for six years. It felt natural for us to live together.

There was a rhythm to it now, this life that we shared. We knew each other better than anyone ever would.

Ever since we were born, we had been attached at the hip, able to communicate with each other without words, screaming if our parents tried to separate us. We lost our virginity together—nottogether-together;we had no interest in each other like that. But, more often than not, we shared sexual partners.

We also liked to share our prey.

* * *

Albert was just as boring as I thought. He fit every cliche of a recently divorced man. We found him at a gentleman’s club, drowning in bottom-shelf alcohol and the girls’ perfume. We didn’t have to wait long at all until he was cut off and escorted outside for being absolutely trashed.

Hayes and I flipped a coin.Heads.

I dejectedly said, “All yours, brother.” Hayes grinned sadistically and patted my shoulder.

“Sucks to be you.”

“Fucker.”

We watched as a very wobbly Albert stumbled to the left of the club, taking a shortcut through a small alley to reach the parking lot. Oh, Albert. I shook my head in pity.

I had to hold back a laugh as he lost his balance and fell, landing on his ass next to the club’s dumpster.

Equally enjoyable as the kill was the lead-up–the stalking. Shooting a plastered middle-aged man in a dark alley didn’t get me going, but I had to adjust myself in my pants as a fantasy of chasing down, claiming, and owning my prey unbiddingly flitted through my mind. Hayes narrowed his eyes as he caught the movement.

“I haven’t known you to like them this old and ugly, but by all means, he’s yours if you need a fuck,” he quietly surmised, eyebrows drawn in confusion.

“Fuck, no, Hayes. No. I was thinking of something else,” I recoiled. Our squabble caught the attention of said old and ugly man, his head lifting to take us in with bleary eyes. He continued sitting on the filthy ground, unconcerned with our presence. We’d never be so careless when on a job, but it wasn’t necessary this time. What was Albert going to do? Barf on our shoes?

Albert smacked his lips and slurred, “I ain’t…do guys. You…you…gotta…go to the gay o-one for that shit…” It took us both a second to decipher his words.

Hayes snapped his fingers. “I think he thinks we just propositioned him,” he chortled. “You wanna pick up takeout on the way home?” As he asked me about a potential late-night snack, Hayes lifted his gun and fired a single shot into Albert’s head.

I replied, “Put in an order for that Chinese place on 47th. I’ll let Uncle know that it’s done.” I raised my phone, snapped a picture of Albert’s crumpled body, and sent it. Uncle Wes’ reply was a thumbs up.

“Are we all good?” Hayes asked over his shoulder, already walking back towards the car we’d parked a few blocks away.

“Yep, all good. I know we asked for this one, but hopefully we get something more fun next time. I need a good torture sesh,” I half-joked.

We didn’t have to worry about clean-up. Carson, Tex, and Phil handled that. Uncle Wes would alert them of the body and location, and then they’d do their thing.

I liked to think of them as necrophagous insects–bugs that feed on carrion.

I preferred our role better.

Hunters.

4

Hayes

I was bored. So bored.

Bored of the boys at the club, bored from the lack of interesting contracts, bored with life.

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