And don’t be surprised if I deck you.
Before I agreed to the fake dating op, I asked Banks if he’d be okay with “incest” shit exploding on a larger public scale.
Everything I do reflects on my brother. I’m never just thinking about myself. I’m constantly thinking about how my actions will affect him.
We’re identical. People see one person. An entity. The twins. Growing up like that, we lose out on a lot. I wasn’t an I. I was a we from birth, and I know who I am. I can differentiate myself from my brother.
The fight is having other people see me. And not just us .
To be treated more like a singular human being in the eyes of my peers, all I had to do was not be around my twin brother.
Seems easy.
Except that’s the one person who I loved most growing up—so it’s not that easy after all. A kid shouldn’t have to make that fucking choice. To have people see you as a person or to be friends with your twin.
Letting go of what people think—it made us stronger. We have thick skin, and we can handle every kind of fucked situation. We’re bred for days that are like ten-pounds of shit in a five-pound bag.
Still, I needed to confirm with Banks about the fake dating op.
He smacked my chest with the back of his hand. “Semper Gumby, man. I’m ready for it all.”
In the costume shop, I stare down at Jane, my hand still on my mic. “Charlie didn’t tell you anything then?”
“Just that he wants me to come over to his apartment—and he said there’s an issue, but he wouldn’t tell me what.” She adjusts her purse. “He always says I’m smarter than most and can solve mysteries with less. But he’s also aware that I really do prefer knowing who’s in trouble. Charlie withholding this is…” She sighs. “…not very pleasant.”
“We’ll figure it out without him.” I trust that my men are keeping their eyes peeled. I click my mic. “Thatcher to security, is there any word on issues in Hell’s Kitchen?”
Jane is looking at me breathlessly, like I just fucked her for three hours straight. We’ve done that. I’ve been sneaking in and out of her room every night like we’re in college and she’s in a dorm with a 3 a.m. curfew.
Blood wants to pump through veins in my dick, but I stay ice-cold. Frosty. When I’m working, I’m thinking about protecting Jane.
When I’m not working, I’m thinking about having sex with Jane.
I listen to comms in my ear, bodyguards responding, and Jane and I already start heading to the checkout. I wrap an arm around her waist and hold the Queen of Hearts costume for her. She’s busy texting and walking.
I click my mic. “Copy that. Jane is Oscar Mike in ten. We’ll be at your AO in a couple hours.” I glance down at Jane. “It’s probably Eliot. His bodyguard said he’s been day drinking and then bought a handle of bourbon. He’s safe back at the apartment. But he was stumbling in.”
She exhales, about to speak, but our heads swerve to Farrow and Maximoff who move to the checkout with matched urgency.
We all meet at the wooden counter. Where a college-aged girl with bright pink hair smacks gum and taps the keyboard to a computer. She’s already signed an NDA. So Jane and Maximoff talk freely, catching up one another.
Farrow and I hang back, eyeing the gathering paparazzi outside. But I notice how Farrow puts in his earpiece and switches on his radio. He raises his brows at me. “What the fuck are you looking at?”
Yeah, we’re still feeling things out. “You turned on your radio.”
He tucks his black V-neck into the waistband of his black pants. “Don’t get excited. I didn’t do it for you.”
I skip over that. “Did med call you?”
“No.”
I nod. Good. It means no one is hurt.
“I can’t go with you, Janie,” Maximoff says, his body rigid and on guard. “I just got a call from Kinney. She was trying not to cry.”
My chest tightens. I care about everyone in these families. Deeply. Kinney Hale is a girl I saw grow up for years, and now she’s thirteen. I was with the Hale family day-in, day-out. Along with Farrow, who was protecting their mom.
As weird as that fucking sounds, we worked together. He may’ve been on Alpha while I was on Epsilon back then, but we still went on all the same Hale family trips.
“Oh no,” Jane whispers. “What happened?”
I splay the costume over the counter. Farrow grabs the ones that Maximoff is buying while we check out for them.
I listen in.
Maximoff pockets his phone. “Her new girlfriend Holly is apparently moving to Nebraska next week, and she just found out.”
Jane presses her knuckles to her lips. “Not again.”
Maximoff nods tensely. We all know about Kinney’s first girlfriend Viv, who moved to LA to be on some tween show so they broke-up.
“Go be with your sister,” Jane says. “I’ll take care of the debacle with my brothers.”
I catch comms chatter in my ear while we pay for the costumes. “Thatcher, Farrow—we’ve got a problem outside.” Temp guards are speaking. “Someone slashed the tires of the Beetle and Audi.”
They should’ve been watching our clients’ vehicles. But I’m not ripping into them. That’s for the leads to do.
I make the next decision fast, and I speak into my mic. “Call a tow truck. Your job now is to babysit their cars at the repair shop. We’re going to take security’s Range Rovers.”
“Roger.”
Maximoff and Jane heard my end of the line.
“Some fucker slashed tires on both cars,” Farrow informs them.
Maximoff crosses his arms. “Typical.”
Jane nods. “Will we manage without extra security to block paparazzi? Or will we need to wait for more?”
“We should be fine,” I tell her. “I’ll drive to New York.” I know she prefers not to drive security’s vehicles.
Farrow turns to his fiancé. “You going to let me behind the wheel, wolf scout?”
“Maybe,” Maximoff says firmly.
“Maybe,” Farrow repeats, but comms suddenly reignite.
Oscar speaks. “I think you should come to Hell’s Kitchen, Redford.”
Goddammit.
Farrow and I exchange a serious look. This isn’t news I like delivering to Jane.
“What’s wrong?” Maximoff asks his future husband.
Farrow has to respond to the team first. He clicks his mic at the collar of his V-neck. “How critical?” To Maximoff and Jane, he says, “Something’s going on at Charlie’s place.”
Jane unfreezes. “We need to hurry.” She collects the shopping bags off the counter, says a quick thanks to the pink-haired girl, and then I hear more through comms.
“I’d say not too critical,” Oscar says in my ear. “Charlie isn’t letting me in the apartment, but I heard broken glass and groaning. Just to be safe, a doctor should come here with Jane.”
Farrow relays this to our clients, and I radio my brother to come fill Farrow’s position as Maximoff’s bodyguard.
I speak to Banks in my mic. “I’ll text you the address.”
“Right on,” Banks says. “I’ll be there soon.”
Maximoff sets his green eyes on Farrow. “You’re not waiting around for Banks just for me. I can have one of the temps on my detail until he arrives. You need to go to New York now.”
Farrow’s jaw muscle tics. He sweeps our extra security standing at the entrance. He has to trust the temp guards, who are heavily vetted and trained for these situations. They have less direct access to our clients, but they’re still our men. I’ll defend them, and their mistakes in the end are my mistakes.
I’m about to reinforce this out loud, but Farrow already tells Maximoff, “Okay. I’ll leave you here.”
Jane is antsy. Ready to go, and she asks Farrow, “Are you riding with us?”
“No, I’m taking the other Range Rover.” He clasps Maximoff’s face in a loving hand. “Please wait here for Banks. Don’t go outside. Don’t do anything impatient as fuck.”