Razor Sharp | ✓

Two

♡♡♡

Summer. When you live near the sea, you can taste the salt in the air, the hot breeze on your skin. For me, that isn't true. I live far away from anything water-related, besides the tank in my back garden and the running taps in our house.

Noah has his window down, his blonde hair sweeping into his eyes. He keeps one hand on the steering wheel, the other constantly brushing his locks away. I lean my head against the window, keeping it shut. I don't need my hair knotted before the day has even begun, unlike my brother.

I'm tired and annoyed. I don't want to do this stupid job. It's barely six in the morning and I don't even know what the hell we are going to do in Wayhill. Except for putting ourselves in danger.

Noah turns the radio down, a sure sign he's about to open his mouth and ruin the perfect silence that surrounds me. I'm not a morning person and I want to sleep.

"So, it's pretty simple, we don't—"

"We've already gone over this," I snap. "I know what we have to do. I stay outside the building, looking out for any Razors, while you do the—whatever the hell you have to do. After that, we get the hell out before someone shoots us."

"Well, yes. But without the shooting."

I whip my head around, glaring at him. "We don't know that for sure."

Noah sighs, raking a hand through his wild hair. It starts to stick up at the end and I fight the urge to find a comb to fix it. It doesn't seem to faze my brother, though.

"Everything is always full of drama with you, El. Don't you realise that this life isn't as bad as you make it seem?"

Noah is so engrossed in The Skulls that he doesn't have time for anything else. He goes to school, plays football and then comes home to work. He's obsessed, always wanting to help them out. He's the first person at their board meetings, and the last to leave.

My heart hurts for him. He doesn't realise how much he's drowning, how much he's been brainwashed by my father and his members. He hasn't lived a proper life since he was eight. Or maybe he never had a normal life.

Maybe from the moment we were both born our lives weren't meant to be normal.

"I don't expect you to get it, Ellie" he sighs. "You've never given it a real chance."

Given it a real chance?

My whole life I've tried to fit in with the people who are meant to be my family. I've given it a better chance than mum ever did and I'm the one still here. Of course, I don't say any of this. It's pointless, really. My brother will always choose The Skulls over anything. Even his own sister.

"Are we almost there, anyway?"

I know that we've passed the sign entering Wayhill, but I still don't know which part of town we are going to.

"Yeah, almost there," Noah's tone has changed. He's in business mode now. He always changes when he's doing anything for The Skulls.

We pull up outside an old building. With its smashed windows and outdated exterior, it looks like it's been abandoned years ago. I look over at him, raising my eyebrow. "You're sure this is it?"

He looks at me and then back at the building. My brother is good at hiding his fear, most of the time. Right now, not so much. He looks back down at the piece of paper in his hands. The address has been written across it quickly, it messy, scribbled loops. My father's unmistakable writing.