Page 53 of The Twins

Vegas

LOS ANGELES - NOW

I cleanedmyself up from the cuts and bruises fiasco at the police department, changing clothes in a department store nearby while Remo waited in the car. Sugar puff doesn’t see it, but I have some cuts on my skin now. She’ll have to sleep with the other guys for a couple of days.

I don’t want to trigger her.

Unlike my useless older brother.

From the sofa, Charles is glaring at me, but it’s an almost invisible glare. There’s a twitch to his eyes, a heavy bucket of questions. He wants to know what Grey and I are murmuring about.

He’ll find out soon.

Once I grow enough balls to come clean to my entire family.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” I yell after Remo, but he doesn’t even flinch. He keeps walking away, climbing up the stairs.

“Let him be,” Grey whispers to me. There’s a tremor to her voice, an almost inaudible one.

“He owes you an apology, and he owes it to you now,” I state, glaring after him.

“The food’s on its way,” Charles informs us.

“He’s not grabbing a single bite until he’s apologized.” I kiss her on the mouth, my hand on the back of her neck. My fingers affectionately graze her skin, massaging her into a calm state.

She nuzzles her nose against mine. “Can we go talk to him? Please?”

“You’re not mad at him?” I ask her.

Grey shakes her head. “I want to talk to him.”

I give Charles a nod, and he tilts his head to the side, observing as I leave with Grey. He’ll take care of the food if we’re not done talking by the time the food arrives.

We moved rooms to accommodate Grey, but it’s one of my brother’s bad days. On such days, he ventures into his old humble abode. He was like the prince of this residence at some point, but now, we’re all kings, and our sugar puff’s our queen.

The walls are empty, apart from a few framed pictures of the family and Tara. We decorate the house with plants that our sugar puff and my brother take care of. They require such structures. Charles and I support them as much as we can.

We arrive at my brother’s door, finding it shut.

Grey knocks.

I roll my eyes. “Sugar puff, he fucks your ass every other week. Do you really find it necessary to knock?”

“Of course,” Grey says. She knocks again, a lighter sound coming from the knock. She stares ahead, anticipating my brother’s reaction. She chastises me in a subtle hiss, “Just because I let him into my body, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve any privacy and vice versa.”

“Dipshit, open up!” I yell. “You should kiss your girlfriend’s feet instead of standing her up outside of your room!”

Grey pokes me, murmuring stuff at me in her mother tongue. Fuck, now I’m hard. She doesn’t raise her voice often, but she curses at us in Spanish when we deserve it.

She’s pure fire when she doesn’t get her way.

“It’s open,” Remo calls from inside. I don’t waste a second, slamming the door open. I would knock over his desk, but it’s not in this room anymore. My brother stands by an open window, gazing outside. I can hear the never-ending traffic in my sleep nowadays, and it’s busting my balls. We live in a fancy-as-fuck spot, but we still hear the cars buzzing.

That was the one good thing about San Ricardo. Small town. Less traffic.

“What’s wrong?” Grey immediately asks, rushing over to Remo. For a fragment of time, I feel betrayed, left behind.

Why does my brother get all her sympathy after what I’ve done for her?

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