Ace of Spades

Prologue

Feminine yet large feet danced around the soft carpet in small, graceful circles. Wavy and coarse midnight blue hair swayed back and forth with each carefree step—mimicking the waves of the finest California beaches. He stepped in front of the large mirror leaning against his bedroom wall—large hands running their way through his lush locks. He took his pale hands out of his mane and traced them down to his plumps set of lips. Memories of the piercing he got when he was far too young came rushing back into his like a freight train. He enjoyed his medusa piercing for all of three hours, before having it snatched out of his head by his sperm donor. The wound left by the incident eventually closing, all that was left was a ghost of a scar in its memory. The reminiscing off his old friend was short lived—abruptly cut off by the sound of light taps on his floor-to-ceiling windows. A soft groan traveled out of the lips of the male as he lightly tapped the pause button on his speaker; effectively muting the heavenly voice of his love, Ro James.

Unlatching the windows and gently pushing them open, he leaned down ever so slightly to investigate the small yet irritating noise he heard just moments before. His copper-colored eyes landed on the familiar figure of his twin sister, or more importantly, the tear-stained face of his twin sister.

"Bray?" her soft voice floated into the ears of the stone-faced man above her. He grunted before opening the hatch that sat close to the window half of his body was dangling out of. A large ladder, that has most definitely seen better days, unleashes itself onto the brittle grass below. Her calloused hands gripped the bars of the ladder as she hoisted herself up one by one. Bray offered his hand to the out of breath girl, a hand that she happily accepted. After she clasped his hand and held tightly onto it, he pulled her slightly muscled body into his poorly lit room.

"Why ya cryin?" he asked, getting straight to the point as he closed his window. She sniffled as she looked into the concerned eyes of her brother.

"Ty, he—" A sob that escaped her mouth harshly cut her off, rudely taking the little breath she had left with it. Bray's body tensed as all the possibilities of what her older boyfriend could've possibly done this time flooded his mind. The pink muscle in his head quickly landed onto the option of cheating based off passed actions.

"He didn't, he couldn't have—" Bray stopped himself once he saw the look of confirmation that spread across his sibling's face. His cool eyes deadpanned on her fragile frame as a scowl formed on his pretty lips; a look that she knew all too well. He passed by her and opened the drawer of his dresser that sat in the corner of his room. Reaching into this dark abyss that is his dresser drawer; his hands touched something hard and cold. He grasped the menacing object as he brought it up close to his face; he took a good whiff of it, inhaling the scent of gunpowder radiating off the lethal weapon. A small gasp comes from behind him causing him to still, forgetting just who was in the room with him for a few short seconds.

"Where did you get that?" his sister whispered.

"My sweet Bethany. I apologize, but ya mans is gonna have to lose his life." Bray deadpanned, completely ignoring her question as he loaded the Glock 17.

"Wait," she quickly zoomed to his bedroom door, ineffectively covering the white paint with her 5'4 frame. "Do you know what the hell could happen to ya dumbass if somebody found out?"

"Bethany, I've been over this with both you and Ty. If he pulled that little stunt again, he was gonna have to feel my friend against the back of his head, regardless if you wanted it or not." Bray glided through his bohemian style room, his destination being the door that his sister carelessly flung her body against a few seconds prior.

"Move." he demanded quietly.

"No." she rebutted.

He let out at a small, humorless chuckle before resting his cold hands against her biceps. He gripped them tightly before pushing her onto the ground behind him, gentle enough not to hurt her but hard enough to get her out of his way. He shuffled out of his room and swiftly closed the door behind him before he could hear the protests of his sister. He locked the door before grabbing the largest pack of cigarettes he could find at the local gas station off the key table. If he was going to commit murder and possibly arson, he was going to make sure he felt good while doing it.