"No."
"You're fighting a losing battle, Kade," he spits out. "I'm going to win. It'll be easier for all of us if you just accept that right now."
"I'm not accepting anything." He lunges forward with the knife, but I'm too fast. His blade gets my shirt, and a button flies off, the fabric hanging open where he's slashed at it. "Are you fucking crazy, Parker? You're going to really hurt someone if you don't watch out."
"No shit." His eyes glitter with madness. The darkness has descended. The darkness that's been a part of us both since we were born. The one I've been fighting back my whole life—but not him, not Parker. He's embraced it now, showing me firsthand how dangerous that can be. "Move, Kade. Fucking move and you can die like a hero from fucking starvation instead of by my hand."
"You'll have to kill me yourself," I grunt. "Because I'm not letting you have her."
He lunges again. This time, his knife nicks me, and a thin trickle of blood pours down my chest.
"That'll scar nicely," he tells me with a crazed smile. "Maybe we can have matching scars now..."
Guiltily, I remember his scarred torso. Is there any truth to what he told June? Is it possible Dad did all this to him? Ignited the spark of madness inside my brother? If it's true, I'll forever blame myself. I should have noticed. I should have known and helped him. But it's too fucking late now.
"Parker, give me the knife," I try again.
"Dream on," he hisses, lunging again. He misses this time, and the rage registers on his face, distracting him. That's when I take my chance and tackle him.
The knife rattles to the floor, and my twin yells my name in the ensuing battle for it. I grab him by the collar, his shirt ripping, his screams echoing in the tomb. We wrestle on the floor, both of us grabbing for the knife, both of us struggling to break free. But I win this time. I always was stronger than Parker.
I grab the knife, and we spring apart, Parker's incredulous expression changing to disbelief.
"You'll have to kill me with your bare hands now, brother," I hiss. "Because I'm not letting you have her."
His gaze dances between June's unmoving body on the floor and me. He's weighing up his options, but he doesn't have any because the moment we're out of here, I'm going to make sure he pays for all the shit he's done to us. But then I remember my father. I see his gravestone before me with that Latin phrase he was so fond of.
Family over all.
"I'm going to give you a chance now," I say even though I can barely believe I'm doing this. "The chance to run like the fucking coward you are."
Parker stares me down silently, waiting for me to continue.
"You can leave right now," I continue. "But I never want to see you again. Never. You fucking got that?"
He nods wordlessly.
"Then fucking go," I hiss. "Make a new life. I don't care how. But you'll never make contact again. Fucking understand?"
"Mercy." He laughs. "What a wonderful thing." He glances over his shoulder at the stairs and the tombstone.
"Shut the fuck up. And don't even think about locking that door behind you when you leave," I hiss. "If you do, you don't just kill me, you kill June too. And I know you don't want to do that."
His calculating gaze takes in our stepsister's body. He's accepting defeat now, realizing he can't get his way, not this time. Then he gives me a single nod. My heart fucking breaks for him. For us. For what's left of our family.
The knife clatters from my hand as Parker takes the stairs two at a time, reaching the top and looking down at me. I wonder just how sick he actually is. If he'd risk June's life to end mine. We stare at one another, once brothers but now rivals. And then his figure disappears in the dark night, and it's just June and me.
And it might be too late to save her already.
24
Kade
It takes ages for the ambulance to arrive, and June doesn't open her eyes once. She's still passed out, lifeless and pale in my arms as the maids rush around us, calling for help frantically.
The paramedics finally show up what feels like hours later. They try to prevent me from getting in the van with them, but I shove some money in one of their hands, and he backs off. I sit next to Junebug on the ride to the hospital, my heart pounding. Every beat of it is a new worry, a new horrible, twisted thought that makes me feel like I'm going to be sick.
They rush June inside, and I follow as fast as I can. But once we arrive at the examination room, they shut the doors in my face. This time, I don't fight the nurses and doctors. I just want what's best for June.