Love and Blood

Chapter 1

I glance at Roman my twin, crouched beside me behind the old, ratty red couch. My heart is pounding so hard I'm sure they'll hear it the second the door crashes in. Any minute now, they're going to burst in and beat Grandpa to death. I move my sweaty dark brown hair out of my face as I peek around the edge of the couch. But Roman grabs my arm and yanks me back down. His wide, blue panicked eyes meet mine, and he gives me this little shake of his head like, don't even think about it.

We're squished together between the wall and the couch, with a janky wooden shelf hanging above us. Honestly, unless someone gets really curious, they're not finding us here. I let out a tiny sigh, trying to stay calm, even though I can hear Grandpa's shotgun being loaded as he stomps through the apartment calling our names. Like, seriously? He's looking for us. No way am I jumping into whatever nightmare he's gotten himself into.

Then—boom! the front door explodes open, and I flinch so hard Roman nearly loses his grip on my hand. He squeezes tighter, and I hold my breath like my life depends on it. Honestly, it probably does. I'm not dying today, not here, not in this dump. I'd rather haunt this gross couch forever than end up as some tragic news story.

"Hands up, Robert!" a man shouts, his voice sharp and commanding, making me flinch. My eyes squeeze shut as I hear the venom in his tone. "Don't move, or I'll blow your fucking brains out!" Grandpa's furious scream cuts through the air like a knife.

I crack one eye open and catch sight of Roman, crouched next to me, his knuckles white as he grips a kitchen knife. I want to tell him to put it down like that little blade's going to help against guns but the words stick in my throat.

"Where are the children, Robert?" The man's voice is colder now, sending shivers down my spine. "The Don isn't exactly thrilled about associates kidnapping their own. You're playing a dangerous game."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Grandpa spits back, defiant as ever.

Suddenly, a bloodcurdling scream rips from Grandpa's throat, and the gunfire erupts, the sound deafening. I clamp my arms around Roman, both of us curled up so tight behind the couch I can feel his shaky breaths against my shoulder. Please, please, please, don't let one of those bullets hit us.

My ears are ringing so bad I can't even hear my heartbeat anymore. I'm not sure which is worse—the fear or the silence of not knowing.

Then, just as abruptly as it started, everything goes quiet. Dead quiet.

"Search the house. We saw them enter."

The voice sends ice straight through my veins. I lock eyes with Roman, and the sheer terror staring back at me almost makes me lose it. Tears threaten to spill, but I shove them down. No time for that now.

Roman's trembling so bad, I can feel it. When I see the knife shaking in his hands, I grab it from him without thinking. He tries to snatch it back, but I shake my head, firm and fast. This isn't his thing it's not mine either, but...

I shift into position, crouching low, knife clutched tight in my hand. If someone lifts the shelf above us, they're getting stabbed. No hesitation.

My stomach churns as the memory flashes back the gang kids from a few weeks ago. They'd barged in here, demanding money from Grandpa, all cocky and loud. Things got bad fast. That was the first time I ever... killed someone. I thought I'd puke right after, but instead, I felt... hollow. I don't want to feel that again. But if it's me or them? I know the choice I'll make.

Roman's wide eyes bore into me, pleading silently, but all I can do is tighten my grip and hope we're ready. The sound of heavy boots echoes into the living room, and my stomach twists into knots. They're here. I can feel Roman trembling beside me, his hand gripping my arm so tight it almost hurts. My fingers tighten around the knife.