Guns and Mirrors

THIRTY-SEVEN

♕Harley Anderson♕

A bead of sweat trickles down my neck as I lift my hands up to my face and bring my leg up to kick the punching back. It's a weak attempt- although, better than the last few- and the bag merely sways a little from side to side. I let out a long sigh of exhaustion, my legs feeling like they're about to crumble off. I drop to the floor, lying down on my back and appreciating the coolness of the floor on my skin.

"You know, if you had to fight someone, it doesn't really matter if you're tired." Cyrus says from the opposite side of the room and I pull a strand of hair sticking to my forehead away before turning to look at him and giving him a pointed look. I'm surprised he even had the energy to do a few rounds of punches with me on the mat with how exhausted he looks. His usually clean shaven jaw is littered with stubble and the faint blue rings under his eyes make me think that he hasn't slept in a while. Even his usually styled hair is left in a mess on the top of his head.

He takes a sip of water and then seats himself on the mat. Pulling myself up, I move on to the mat as well and plop down before drinking water out of my own bottle. I watch as he stares at the door absentmindedly and swishes the water around in the bottle. It's clear that there's something on his mind and when's the best time to get something out of anyone? When things are too heavy and they need to put a little weight down and even though the shame that I feel is overbearing, I still open my mouth and ask: "What's wrong?"

As if snapped out of a daze, Cyrus meets my collected gaze and blinks.

"Nothing is wrong." He replies and I have to give credit that he says it with a lot of conviction that I'm almost convinced. But I'm also a lot more desperate for inside information.

"Cyrus," I swallow, my heart beating rapidly as I consider the words in my head. "I'm your sister. You can tell me. What am I going to do? I'm stuck here."

I'm your sister. The words make me physically feel sick and I want to pull my hair out immediately after I've said them. I'm his sister, yes, but I am not his family. I have not yet forgiven him for what he did to me.

His posture seems to slump a little as he pulls a leg up and rests his arm on his knee. Raising a brow he says: "I'm your brother. You don't tell me anything."

"Because I don't trust you." I snap before swallowing. I need to keep it together. "But you can trust me."

"Trust is a two way street."

I shake my head. "Not always."

He watches me then, green eyes almost trying to pick up a crack in my mask but I don't falter. Eventually he sighs, looking down at his lap.

"It's just very stressful. Being Jack's right hand man and all."

I want to tell him that he brought that upon himself. He chose to be the leader's bitch. He chose to be a part of this gang and fall in love with an assassin. He chose this life. I didn't choose to stay in a monster's house or be beaten everyday or lose everyone I cared for. I never chose the things that hurt me, he did. And maybe that's something that will always separate us- he chose his suffering but I didn't choose mine.

"The Kings are getting stronger and becoming a bigger threat than Jack anticipated. In fact, they killed one of our dealers so that Jack's customers didn't get their fix. He lost a lot of money. And status." Cyrus explains, voice tired. "I had to track the bastard down and deal with him myself. And then there's Pittsburgh... fuck. It's taking longer to start up the branch there. Jack is struggling to buy a port and we can't do anything until that goes through."

That's the first time he's directly said that they're aiming on working their way into Pittsburgh or, rather, from Pittsburgh outwards. But the port thing is new for me. If Enrique managed to buy the port first... like Cyrus said, then the branch can't open there. However, my heart distracts me with the little tug it does as I notice the stress of Cyrus.