Page 13 of Where Sinners Repent

He’s late.

Maddy and Ash took over his little babysitting role an hour ago.

Maybe I’m being too much.

Colour me overprotective after that whole Wraith business. The business that had my brother tied up, bleeding and left to die.

The memory of watching that video over Ash’s shoulder has an icy coldness sluicing through my veins. So cold it makes me cock my arm back and slash the blade across the throat of the stupid man before me.

He dies as a shocked gasp falls from his lips, turning into a bloody gurgle, blood spraying me in warm, metallic drops.

“Flawless,” a monotone voice, murmurs from the shadows, a replica of mine.

Of course, I didn’t hear him enter. People never see or hear my twin brother until it’s too late. Until his gun is pressed against their temple and their skulls are reshaped.

“You finally decided to show up,” I reply, swiping my finger along the blade. Blood drips down my hand, down my wrist. Warm and thick, and beautiful. I repeat my movements on the other side, watching carefully as the life source runs rivulets down my own skin.

I’ve seen enough blood to fill an ocean, yet it never fails to entrance me.

I don’t bother waiting for a reply from my brother. It won’t come.

He slowly strides towards the lump of flesh, inspecting my shoddy work.

I have torture down to a fine art, the finished product something beautiful, something masterful. Sometimes, though, it’s messy. Messy and fucking gory, like now.

Kai lifts his hand, fingers grazing the open slash on the man’s neck. Fingers coming back blood red, rubbing them together.

“So, the friend killed someone?” I pry.

Honestly, I couldn’t give two fucks about that bitch. She’ll be dead before we calm the oceans between the gangs. We know who her two brothers are. And her father.

But I need to know the details so I can prepare for the obvious backlash we will receive.

Frankly, it’s a miracle she’s still alive.

Frankly, it’s a miracle Ash hasn’t killed her himself.

The fact that he lets Maddy hang out with her, knowing she’s a walking target, is beyond me. I’d have her wrapped in rope and dropped into the harbour, just for the fun of it.

Reading my brother is something no one can ever do. Except for me. Every tiny micro expression speaks volumes. Like the way the corner of his mouth turns the smallest fraction. That’s a smirk. And it makes my teeth grind. Because my brother doesn’t smirk.

“Kai,” I grit out.

His dark eyes flick to my identical ones. And something in them makes me pause. Makes me put down the knife and step towards him.

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my butterfly knife, flicking it open and twisting it in my fingers.

“She didn’t just kill him,” he replies, voice soft. There. There’s that look again. “She caved his face in with a baseball bat.”

Damn.

The silence stretches between us.

“Show me,” a slow grin curls across my lips. His brow barely shifts. “The body.”

“No,” he murmurs quietly, not taking his eyes off me.

“The girl, then,” I reply, the words laced with the kind of amusement that never ends well for anyone.