Tyrant Twins: A Dark Twin Romance

by Isabella Starling

  And now June held the company in her hands.

  We fought, and we threatened to sue, but it was all in vain.

  At the time, we were both in college, and we were informed we couldn’t return home. That the judge had ruled in June's favor, that most of the money was tied up, and nobody could help us. But our bills would need to be paid, and no one really cared where that money came from.

  June was desperate after the news broke out. She offered us money, a fund in each of our names, but that fell through after realizing most of the money was out of her hands. She had her pocket money, sure, but the rest of it was tied up in the company.

  It gave her the chance to live a comfortable, luxurious lifestyle.

  And left us rotting in a shitty one-bedroom walk-up in the Bronx.

  I take another swig of booze from the bottle and groan as I bury my fingers in my hair. Fucking shit. I really let myself go tonight with Parker. I should've kept my mouth shut, should've been the better brother and not attacked him like that. He's just a stupid fucking kid.

  I put the bottle down on the coffee table when I hear the buzzer. I figure it’s Parker since he didn't grab his keys when he left. My shoulders tense instantly. I don't know if I'm ready to deal with my brother just yet. Still, I buzz him through, not bothering to ask who it is.

  Who else could it be at fucking three thirty in the morning?

  When there's a knock on the door, I turn my back to it so I don't have to face Parker right away, and hiss over my shoulder, "It's open."

  "You should really lock your door."

  I turn around in the direction of the voice. June stands in our dingy kitchen. She's wearing a pink coat today, her glossy hair falling down her back while her face is makeup-free. She's got black leather boots on that make my head fucking spin. Not just because I can't stop imagining her naked in them but because her shoes alone are probably worth more than what we pay for a month's rent. I can tell by the red fucking sole.

  "You hand out free advice now, or do I have to pay you for that golden nugget of wisdom, Miss CEO?" I grunt at her, crossing my arms. She has the decency to flush, leaning against the kitchen counter.

  "I've never been here before," she mutters. "I never thought I'd be away from the two of you for so long."

  "What the hell are you doing here, June? It’s the middle of the night." I rub my temples, the vodka hitting me hard. "How many fucking times do I have to tell you to leave us alone? How the hell did you even find us?"

  "Parker's website," she admits sheepishly. "The address was there."

  "Great," I mutter. "My brother's a fucking genius. What do you want? I've had a really long night."

  "I just want to talk to you, please."

  "I'm Kade," I remind her sharply.

  "I don't need you telling me who you are." Her words are tinged with hurt. "I could always tell you apart. Remember?"

  "Sure." I shake my head. "So, what do you need me for? Got an IT problem for me?"

  "No, Kade." She paces the room. I want to make fun of her, tell her not to get her pretty clothes dirty on our dusty furniture. I do my best to keep this place, but God knows Parker fucking doesn't. "I want to talk to you. I want to be your friend again."

  "First of all, it’s the middle of the night. Second of all, I don't want to be your fucking friend." For once, I'm being honest with my stepsister, and it feels fucking good. "So, just please, go home."

  "I told my driver to go back, and that I'd be spending the night," she says resolutely.

  "You fucking crazy?" I hiss at her. "You can't stay here."

  "Why not? I'll sleep on the couch if I have to."

  "Parker sleeps on the couch."

  "Oh," she whispers. "I thought you had two bedrooms."

  "No, June. Not all of us can afford luxuries like a second bedroom." I step in front of her, towering over her, and realize she can't quite meet my eye. "Now come on. I'm calling you a cab."

  "But I don't want to go," she insists. "I want to stay with you."

  "June, Parker's gonna be back any minute, and he'll lose his shit if he sees you here." Only white lies this time. Anything to get her the fuck out of my apartment. She doesn't belong here. I don't want her here. "Please, we already had an argument today. Don't make it worse."

  "Are you two fighting?" she whispers.

  "None of your fucking business."

  She seems so hurt by my reply that I almost regret it. But I don't say sorry. I never do. Opening the front door, I guide her into the hallway. After we’ve walked down the stairs to the cold, wet street, I hail her a cab and force her to get inside. Giving the driver our old address fucking hurts.

  "Kade, please." June stares at me through the open window. "Come with me. At least make sure I get home safely."

  The little bitch knows exactly how to play me, and she fucking knows it. All I can think about is the taxi fare, which is pretty much all the money I made today. But I can't say no to my little sister. I never could.

  With a groan, I get in the cab, too. June's smile is so warm I have to fight every instinct in my body to ignore it. The need to hurt her cuts me deep. I don't want her this happy. I want her fucking miserable like I am. She starts blabbering on, and I stop her by holding up my palm. "Just shut up, June. I'm seriously not in the mood."

  She does as she's told, but the bright radiance surrounding her is still just as un-fucking-bearable as it was before. Her hand is resting on the car seat, inches away from mine. The desire to grab her and intertwine our fingers is almost too strong to ignore. Almost.

  But then June shocks me by making the first move. She places her palm on mine, and I stare through the window stubbornly, refusing to acknowledge her. But the hairs on the back of my arm are standing on end. I don't want June to stop, and she doesn't. She keeps her hand there, and then moments later, when I'm convinced it's just a coincidence, she begins to stroke me with her thumb.

  No one has touched me like that in years. I don't do affection. I fuck hard, and I drop my conquests harder. There's no time in my schedule for gentleness. Yet it feels so fucking good that goose bumps erupt all over my skin.

  I try to force the moment to stop, but somehow, I'm frozen, unable to pull my hand away from June's. And then it all becomes too much. My mind scrambles as heat and ice take turns wreaking havoc on my body. I force myself to bang on the plastic separating us from the driver. "I need to get out, please."

  "What?" June asks, staring me down with accusing eyes. "Aren't you going to make sure I get home okay?"

  "You know what, June?" I hiss. "You got yourself into this mess, why don't you get yourself out of it, too."

  The cab pulls over, and crazy honking ensues while I get the fuck out of the car, slamming the door. The driver pulls away, and I do my fucking best to eradicate June from my mind as I walk the few blocks back home.

  By the time I finally get in, Parker's slumped in front of the TV. He doesn't say a word, just pulls the hood of his jacket over his head and pretends I'm not there. Well, at least he's alive, I guess.

  "Night night," I mutter sarcastically. This time, I slam my bedroom door. Fuck them all. If they all want to be brats with a motherfucking attitude, I'll be one too.

  5

  Kade

  When I come home from the co-working office that evening, Parker hasn’t moved an inch from his spot in front of the TV. He's still slumped over just like he was when I came home last fucking night, still pissed at me. I wonder if he’s even done something or if he spent the entire goddamn day playing video games.

  “Did you bring food?” he asks without looking at me, too busy hunting down some alien bad guy on the TV screen. “I’m hungry,” he adds, in case I didn’t know.

  I don’t bother to respond because I’m tired, and I’ve had enough. Instead, I put my paper bag on the counter and produce two bottles of tequila.

  A peace offering.

  Finally, Parker turns his game off and comes into the kitchen, curiou
sly picking up a bottle.

  “It’s not even the good stuff,” he complains right away.

  “Yeah, we can’t afford the good stuff, unless you want to chip in,” I snap.

  He looks taken aback. Fucking good. I'm not going to be the only one trying to make amends again. “What’s with you?” he wonders out loud.

  "You really need to ask?" I sigh. “That fight fucked me up. And on top of everything... June dropped by last night.” I can see his eyes dim with the mere mention of her name.

  It’s always been Parker and June. They were so close. I know this is the hardest for him.

  looks suspicious and jealous for a split second, but then the look is gone. “So?” he asks, pretending not to care, opening that tequila, and taking a swig straight from the bottle.

  I shrug. “She misses us… well, you more so than me, I’m sure.”

  “Don’t care,” he says, though we both know he does. She’s his best friend, and it’s killing him that they’re not in contact anymore. And it hurts more because she wants to be, and he thinks he’d be betraying me if he did something about it.

  “I need to get drunk tonight,” I say and uncap my own bottle of tequila. I guess we're choosing not to talk about our fight last night. It might be for the best. I really don't want to relive the moment I saw my twin's cum all over my ex-hookup's face.

  “I share your sentiment,” Parker murmurs in my general direction while he looks in the paper bag. “No lemons? Or salt?”

  “I think today is a day for straight-up tequila.”

  "At least we agree on something."

  We settle on the couch, each with our own bottle, and watch some nineties movie. It almost feels like everything’s okay if I ignore the shitty atmosphere. Things left unspoken always end up rotting you from the inside, and this fight of ours is just another one to add fuel to the fire. A fire that was already blazing and doesn't seem to go out as time goes on.

  “We need to… like, we need a plan,” Parker slurs, and I look at him through the haze settled over my eyes. It’s like staring in a mirror, and though I’ve gotten used to it, it’s a little strange looking at your reflection when you’re as drunk as I am right now.

  “Why?” I wonder. "Why do we need to? Why do we need to do anything? We can just lie here and drink our drinks and be miserable together."

  He takes a swig out of his bottle, spilling a bit on the couch, but I’m too drunk to care. Plus, I don’t think I can formulate a coherent sentence, anyhow. “We need to get it back,” he says. “And June. I want June back.”

  I don’t want you to have June back, my fucked up, twisted mind says.

  “So, what’s the plan?” I ask instead, trying hard to ignore the nagging voice in my head. He grins at me and sets the empty bottle down. We’re gonna be so hungover, it won’t even be funny.

  “That’s where you come in, brother,” he says cheerfully. We’re about twenty minutes away from him breaking down and twenty-five minutes away from me barfing down the toilet. But at least our argument's fucking forgotten—for now, at least. Until Parker oversteps again. Knowing him, it won't even take him a week.

  “We need a plan?” Parker reminds me.

  I sit there stewing in my own drunkenness, and I wonder what I should tell him. He’s had enough of it’s-gonna-be-okays and we’ll-sort-it-outs. Instead, I opt for something else. And the words just keep coming when I open my mouth.

  “We need that money back,” I say, and Parker nods animatedly. “It’s our dad’s company, too, and she has no right to get all of it. And you miss her, but you want the money more, right?”

  He looks thoughtful for a moment, and I don’t let him answer. Maybe it’s because I’m afraid he’ll choose her over the money. Over me.

  “There’s no way we can get it,” I hurry before he can answer. “Unless …”

  I’ve got his attention, and his eyes shoot up to look at me. “Unless what?” he asks curiously, and I know this is the make-it-or-break-it moment.

  He might agree with my plan if I present it in the right way. Or he might call me crazy, depending on how greedy he’s feeling today.

  But I've been thinking about this for a long time. Hours, at least. And my hazy fucking mind is telling me the plan is gold. I get June, Parker gets June, and we all get to share the cash.

  I just hope Parker gets it. The truth is, I’m not even sure whether I’m doing this for the money or just for June.

  “There’s something we could do,” I say, and Parker edges closer on the couch, listening intently. I know I’ve got him now, and the words come rushing out. It’s done.

  “There’s no way we are getting that money without doing something bad,” I explain.

  “I’m not gonna kill June, Kade,” Parker interrupts immediately, and I’m shocked that he even thought I would think of something like that.

  "Are you fucking crazy?" I snap at him. "I'm not going to fucking kill her."

  "Then tell me," Parker urges.

  “We’re not blood relatives,” I remind him, trying to ease him into the idea gently. “She’s not related to us at all, right?” I ask him, and he shakes his head, encouraging me to continue.

  “What if,” I ask, building the tension before I finally pose the big question. “What if one of us married her?”

  Parker looks revolted and like he’s about to speak up, but I hurry up with the explanation. This moment is crucial.

  “What if one of us married her and then divorced her a few months later? Can you imagine how much money we could get? She would be heartbroken, so it would be easy to take it away. And then we would split it between the two of us…”

  Parker looks at me silently. “I thought we didn't want to hurt June.”

  Oh, brother, I want to do many, many things to June, and hurting her is in the top 5.

  “Fine, fine. We’ll explain it to her,” I say to placate him. “And we’ll leave her with enough money to take care of herself, won’t we? We can all go back to being friends because the money issue won’t be there anymore, will it? We'll split it three ways, then.”

  Parker thinks it through, and I imagine the cogs in his brain turning as my heart thumps in my chest, waiting for his answer. This could be it, I think. I could do this and marry her—and get over my obsession. I’m sure once I have her, it will pass. And all that money… Fuck, I wouldn't need to worry about anything ever again. And I'd be free of Parker. Parker, who still has no idea I have no intention of divorcing June. Once my ring is on her finger, she's fucking mine. Forever.

  Something about tonight has brought my deepest, darkest fantasies out to play. I never should've spoken up. Parker's troubled face says it all. Yet I can't stop myself from hoping. Hoping I can convince Parker—and myself—that this is a good idea.

  “Okay,” Parker says softly, and immediately, my smile grows wide as I slap his back. “I’ll do it.”

  “There it is,” I say proudly, and we both get up and realize we can’t really stand with all the alcohol in our bodies.

  We’re kind of afraid to look at each other, I think, because Parker refuses to meet my eyes. But he looks weirdly happy, excited. I knew he was struggling with less money to play with, but I didn’t think he’d be this willing. And obviously, there’s the subject of my stepsister. Sweet, long-legged June. It makes it all worth it if it means I get to taste that full mouth of hers.

  Fuck. Am I going to go through with this?

  “When do I start?” Parker asks after a minute or so passes, and I look at him to see him grinning. That’s the spirit, brother, I think proudly. I’m about to explain his role in the game—making sure June trusts me, convincing her I’m a good guy—when he speaks up again.

  “You know, I did always have a little crush on June. I know, it’s weird… We were always so close. But this is the perfect chance to get it out of my system.” He gives me a wicked smile. “I wonder if she’s a virgin.”

  My blood freezes in my veins, and all my
hairs stand on end.

  What the fuck just happened?

  I’ve really fucking messed up this time.

  I wake up with a roaring hangover and run to throw up in the sink, my mind pounding with yesterday’s conversation with my twin.

  After Parker misunderstood me, I made the worst possible move, which I’m only realizing now. I threw up and went to sleep, and I never once told him I wanted to be the one who married June.

  Thinking about it now as I wash my face and mouth, I realize Parker has a point. He’s the one who was always closer to June; he’s her best friend, her confidant. She trusts him. Sure, she cares about me too, but June and Parker… it just makes more sense.

  But my goddamn jealous mind won’t accept it.

  Parker must understand. He must. Because I’m not giving June up.

  I walk back into the living room where Parker is stretched out on the couch.

  “I’m dying,” he informs me, and despite all the worries, I smirk. He has always had a flair for the dramatic. Might be because he’s an artist.

  I bring him a tall glass of water, and he drinks it in big gulps, finally sitting up and groaning all the while. “So, last night,” he says tiredly. "Fucking shit. What the fuck did we do?"

  My heart beats faster, and I prepare myself to speak up.

  “We’re never drinking that shit tequila again,” Parker grimaces, and I laugh nervously. Is it possible that he has completely forgotten about our conversation? We were hammered...

  Parker doesn’t bring up the plan with a single word. He doesn’t even mention June.

  I’m confused but figure it’s best to keep my mouth shut. When I go off to the offices, I’m feeling nervous and relieved at the same time. I wish Parker a great day.