The Marx Brothers

Chapter One - '2am'

It was the fourth time I'd seen him. Same time, same circumstance, always on cue, it was becoming hard to keep it quiet, I was becoming way too curious, as well as suspicious.

"Let me guess, another bar fight?" I raised an eyebrow pulling on my latex small gloves to examine the damage in front of me.

He shrugged his broad shoulders smeared in red splatters of his own blood.

"Why when these bar fights happen, your brother is dragging you in by the ear to me and not the police?" I continued as he stared at the pristine white carpet, his head low.

"Cops aren't our thing" He shrugged, not giving a hint of answer to me as I placed a finger under his chin to raise his bloodied face.

I gave a sigh and began to clean up the dried and fresh blood sticking to his top lip and eyebrow. He didn't flinch, the episode becoming a habit of his, and the clean-up becoming a habit of mine. They weren't small gashes, they were large and the typical injuries I usually saw on drunken bar fights. But there was something about the way it all happened that told me things weren't as simple as they were described to me. I had my thoughts, my ideas as to what was really going on, but I wasn't going to say anything, yet.

"Thanks for doing this Eden, again, I owe you" His brother Jett spoke loudly with a sigh as he reappeared from the kitchen after a 'mandatory' phone call he'd needed to take.

I held in the need to yawn. It was only two in the morning, the air outside crisp and chilly in the middle of June.

"No problem" I mumbled wiping blood free from the quiet man's face. I'd come to remember it in detail. He was three years my senior, his brother Jett a few years above.

I would be eighteen come end of November, yet I always felt older seeing as I was alone in my sister's home majority of the time.

She was an overseas business woman, which didn't leave a lot of time for a well-established sibling relationship.

"I really do apologize for the inconvenience of my brothers timing" Jett continued genuinely.

I gave him a small smile and pulled the gloves off.

"It's fine, seriously. Good practice for medical school" I told him, trying to ease his obvious tension. His tall composure was rigid, his knuckles tense and shoved under his armpits as he waited impatiently for the verdict.

"He won't need stitches this time" I informed him, taking a longer glance at his brother Phoenix's sliced eyebrow. My bloodshot tired blue eyes struggled to keep open.

Phoenix didn't say much, just like every other time we were in this situation. He sat still, his dark chocolate eyes on the ground, his broad muscled back and shoulders slumped over in an exhausted pose.

"Just, try and stay out of trouble. One more hit and it'll deepen and need stitches" I advised as best as I could. Jett slightly relaxed.

My mind never could comprehend just how amazingly attractive both men were despite the strange destructive personalities they had. Both were tall, six foot, light brown caramel thick hair that seemed to always go uncut and unbrushed. They both shared the same intense brown gaze that always said 'don't make too much eye contact'. They were almost afraid of eye contact, afraid of anyone getting close.

"One day I won't be here for these out of hours doctors' appointments" I told them as I stood and threw all the bloodied tissues and gauze into a plastic bag along with my bloodied gloves.

"Like I said, I... we, appreciate it" Jett corrected himself as he shot his brother a glare.

"Thanks" Phoenix mumbled as he also stood ready to leave as quickly as he had entered.