Page 14 of Beni

Behind the door, he heard flushing before water started to run. Bene’s unhappy grumbles continued even after he came back out of the bathroom, glaring at his brother the entire time while he passed him in the hallway.

Beni smirked right back.

“Clean up the attitude,” he told Bene, “because it’s not going to help you when I decide to kick your ass in the ring later.”

Bene groaned from the confines of his bedroom. “We’re boxing this weekend? I thought we were just … why?”

“That’s what Tank wants us to do.”

Tank, their personal trainer. It wasn’t like the twins needed one, but the guy helped to keep both of them on track with their busy schedules. He made sure they found time to come into the gym, and regularly had plans ready for them when they showed up.

“And if you make me tell him we’re going to be late, I will beat your—”

Bene came out of the room with a scowl that could rival the devil’s. His fist struck out, smashing Beni right in the shoulder before he passed him in the hallway. Beni rubbed his now sore muscle.

Shit.

“Just so you know, your hangover isn’t going to stop me from beating your ass later,” Beni warned.

“Only have yourself to blame if I puke on you.”

Right, right.

A risk he was willing to take.

There was something about a good competition with his twin that always had Beni revving and ready to go. It never changed in all their years. For some, the competition wasn’t healthy, but for him and his twin, it worked to keep them motivated.

Separately, and together.

Because they were a team.

Always had been.

“Are you hitting that club tonight?” Beni asked. “The new one Joe opened on the east end with Cory?”

The Rossi brothers were famous for their businesses. And the two had a ton of them. Everything from restaurants to bars and clubs, and even a couple of random ones like laundromats and fucking barber shops. Good money, sure, but he bet that was a lot of upkeep. Being in the mafia should have been enough to keep the Rossi brothers busy, but apparently, they needed more.

“If last night didn’t kill me, then probably,” Bene said, heading down the hallway.

Beni followed behind. “You’re looking alive now.”

“Barely.”

Well, whose fault was that?

He kept his mouth shut.

As Bene worked his way into his clothes, punching his arms through a custom Frankie Zombie hoodie that was actually Beni’s, while the two of them headed for the front door, the landline in the apartment started to ring. With traffic, they were already cutting it close to hit the gym before they would be late, so he didn’t bother to run and pick it up. Whoever it was could leave a damn message, or call one of the twins on their cells if it was that important.

“Probably Dad,” Beni said as his twin slipped on his shoes. “You talked to him last night when he called, right?”

“Yeah.”

It wasn’t so much the reply his brother gave, as much as it was the way Bene said it. He drawled the word out slowly like he considered not saying it at all. Not to mention, his twin was now avoiding his gaze as he stood straight, and grabbed his gym bag off the hook designated for his shit amongst the many lining the hallway.

He didn’t know what that was about.

That yeah.