Vicious Minds: Part 3 (Children of Vice 6)

“I know,” I said, gripping the steering wheel.

“Thanks to us, you know.” My mother stressed.

Again, I didn’t say anything because what could I say?

“How is your uncle?” my father asked, his voice now heavy and the mood darkening.

“Broken…still.”

“Tsk,” was all I heard from him, and in the rearview mirror, he glared out the window in fury.

“She needs to be stopped,” my mother said.

“She or they?” I retorted.

“She is the reason he is acting like this—”

“Mother, with all due respect, Ethan is the fucking oldest. He is supposed to lead us. He was supposed to be groomed by you both to lead us, and now you are blaming one woman for bringing him down? No, it’s his fault, too.”

Silence.

So much silence, it was deafening.

“Do you want to kill your brother?” My mother asked flatly.

I breathed deeply, feeling bitterness seep in. “Didn’t you groom me not to ?”

“Apparently, I’m not good at getting my sons to do what I need them to do. So that’s why I’m asking.” she responds.

Stopping at the red light, I rubbed the side of my head. “He’s my brother. He’s helped me…saved me dozens of times before. But, he’s also put my life at risk a dozen times, too. I do not want to kill him. But what if he wants—no, what if that woman wants him to kill me? Or if she goes after Helen next? What then? Am I supposed to roll over and take it?”

“No,” my father finally speaks again.

“So, let’s save him from her.” My mother added.

“How in the hell…” I paused, not want to keep cursing at my mother but honestly. “How?”

“Drive through the underpass.” She nodded up ahead.

I did as she told me, going through the industrial area of the city. She kept directing me until we reached a run-down garage.

“Drive in.”

When I did, the old rusty garage door dropped behind us, with a heavy slam, and my parents opened their doors climbing out.

“I guess

I’m parking, then,” I muttered to myself, putting the car into park and stepping out into a dirty puddle. I glared at the stains at the bottom of my pants.

“Watch your step,” my father said a little too late with an amused grin on his face.

“Thanks!” I hiss.

“You’ve gotten tall,” he said, looking me over.

I’ve been the same height since I was a teenager. A little bit more muscle, but other than that, I was still the same. I guess that wasn’t the point. “Taller and stronger. I think I can take you in one of those boxing matches now.”

His brow raised. “You’d fight an old man?”