Revenge.
I'm familiar with it. You have to be when you're the firstborn son of a notorious mafia leader. Death and vengeance have been the very foundations of my life.
So who in their fucking mind would be stupid enough to cross me?
My brother and...
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"Brother."
I weave the knife between all five fingers with enough precision that the blade doesn't so much as graze me. Killing is an art and I'm something of an artist in that regard. I find more comfort in weapons than I do in people—senile variety that they are.
Only my brother is exempt from that particular perspective of mine. I glance at him now and his lip curls up, cold with a faint hint of wicked. He holds up his cuffed hands between us.
"It's time," I confirm.
He doesn't even blink as I use the knife to pick the lock of his cuffs, freeing him within the span of a breath. He grabs the knife and unlocks my cuffs in return. His skill with a blade is almost as lethal as mine, though in reality he's probably better.
We both let our cuffs slip off our wrists and clatter to the floor. The clinking sound of metal draws the attention of two guards and they look over their shoulder at us. It's not like we were trying to hide.
"Inmates," The bulkier of the two barks at us, first glancing at my brother then me. A muscle clenches in his jaw when he meets my dead stare. "Move quietly."
He won't stop us. No one will. Not unless they want to find their skin ripped to ribbons and bleeding out at our feet.
I brace my forearms above my head against the jail bars and lock eyes with the scrawnier guard. He hastily looks to his left, a general human instinct when one is experiencing fear or lying, before meeting my stare and squaring his shoulders back. His false bravado is pointless. He's given me a glimpse of his fear but a glimpse is all I really need.
"Open this cell," I order. I sound as calm as I feel. This day has been a long time coming.
The guard's eyes grow wide and he looks to the bulkier one, obviously superior, for instructions. Inept man—and I use the word man loosely. My sentence ended exactly thirty-seven seconds ago and I've been in charge since the first second. He will answer to me now. His partner is the smart one, already giving my brother and I his back instead of making the grave mistake of challenging us.
"Is there a reason we're still locked in?" My brother drags his tongue across the seam of lips. He looks starved. He's been waiting for this day as long as I have. one-hundred and nine days too long.
The scrawny guard jumps out of his trance when my brother whistles between his teeth as if summoning a lapdog, and then he shuffles over to our cell. His steps are slow and careful. I can practically smell his fear. He sticks out like a virgin in a whore house, this one. If I cared enough I would tell him to grow a new set of balls before the rest of the inmates eat him alive.
