The Beast

Chapter 2 - Daddy Issues

The pounding of a fist on the front door startled me awake, and I rolled off my bed onto the floor with a loud crash. Who could have possibly been there so early in the morning?

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and peered out the small, two-paned glass window to my left, hissing at the sunlight that peeked through. Maybe it wasn't as early as I thought.

My aching legs carried me to my bedroom door to find Maia who had a similar disgruntled expression on her face. The fight the day before took a lot out of the both of us, and exhaustion wasn't quite the word I would use to describe what we were feeling.

She lifted her heavy eyes and locked them with mine, the snarl on her lips making it hard for me to contain my laughter. She huffed and stormed to her front door, throwing it open with a startling aggression that alarmed the person on the other side of it.

"What?" She hissed, narrowing her eyes up at Marcus' wide ones. He held his hands up in surrender and glanced over her low shoulder to me, begging for my help.

"I didn't realize you would still be sleeping." He laughed nervously, creating a pregnant distance between himself and the vicious woman before him.

She huffed and waved over her shoulder for him to come inside, beelining toward the coffee maker plugged in at the center of her two barstool island. She slammed a clean mug under the spout and calibrated the machine before the familiar whirring of the pod brewing hummed through the air, followed by the delicious smell of a French Vanilla brew.

"What's up?" I asked, looking almost straight on toward my identical twin. He was a mere one inch taller than me, although my six foot height was more abnormal than his. He scratched the back of his neck and peered over toward Maia again who had calmed down significantly now that she had some of her pressed bean liquid in her system.

"Dad wants to see you. He's pretty steamed after you stormed out yesterday."

I let out a dry laugh and turned away, fully prepared to crawl back into the comfort of my bed and sleep the rest of the day away. "Goodbye, Marcus."

His eyes widened, and he reached out to grab my shoulder and stop me from leaving.

"I'm serious, Juniper. There's already talk that Barlowe is planning another attack soon."

I rolled my eyes and allowed him to spin me back in his direction. "Of course he is. As long as he is alive, he will continue to attack. This isn't news." I folded my arms over my chest and raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to say what was really plaguing him.

He chewed nervously on his bottom lip and frowned. "Don't you think it's odd he didn't bring...you know...with him?" His legs carried him a step closer as if someone were listening to our conversation. "He knew what he was doing. He wanted to test our abilities and weaken us before administering the final blow Dad says it could be only a matter of days before—"

My hand shot up to the air between us to stop him from talking. "Of course he's testing us. He's testing our borders, our numbers, and our weaknesses. He could bring his secret weapon in the first time, but where is the fun in that?" When I allowed my arm to fall back to my side, I was met with my brother's wide, worried eyes. "He wants to make us sweat, and in doing so it creates what feels like a game to him that will only bring him pleasure after his eventual victory."

"But...he's not going to win." Marcus spoke as if he wasn't confident with the words that came from his mouth.

"Not as long as I am alive."

He sighed and rolled his shoulders, stretching back into a straight position. A weight seemed to lift from his chest, and he was now visibly more relaxed. "Dad still wants to see you. You're not weaseling your way out of this one." He smiled, wiggling his eyebrows as if he were enjoying the idea of me getting into trouble.