“We need to… like, we need a plan,” Parker slurs, and I look at him through the haze settled over my eyes. It’s like staring in a mirror, and though I’ve gotten used to it, it’s a little strange looking at your reflection when you’re as drunk as I am right now.
“Why?” I wonder. "Why do we need to? Why do we need to do anything? We can just lie here and drink our drinks and be miserable together."
He takes a swig out of his bottle, spilling a bit on the couch, but I’m too drunk to care. Plus, I don’t think I can formulate a coherent sentence, anyhow. “We need to get it back,” he says. “And June. I want June back.”
I don’t want you to have June back, my fucked up, twisted mind says.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask instead, trying hard to ignore the nagging voice in my head. He grins at me and sets the empty bottle down. We’re gonna be so hungover, it won’t even be funny.
“That’s where you come in, brother,” he says cheerfully. We’re about twenty minutes away from him breaking down and twenty-five minutes away from me barfing down the toilet. But at least our argument's fucking forgotten—for now, at least. Until Parker oversteps again. Knowing him, it won't even take him a week.
“We need a plan?” Parker reminds me.
I sit there stewing in my own drunkenness, and I wonder what I should tell him. He’s had enough of it’s-gonna-be-okays and we’ll-sort-it-outs. Instead, I opt for something else. And the words just keep coming when I open my mouth.
“We need that money back,” I say, and Parker nods animatedly. “It’s our dad’s company, too, and she has no right to get all of it. And you miss her, but you want the money more, right?”
He looks thoughtful for a moment, and I don’t let him answer. Maybe it’s because I’m afraid he’ll choose her over the money. Over me.
“There’s no way we can get it,” I hurry before he can answer. “Unless …”
I’ve got his attention, and his eyes shoot up to look at me. “Unless what?” he asks curiously, and I know this is the make-it-or-break-it moment.
He might agree with my plan if I present it in the right way. Or he might call me crazy, depending on how greedy he’s feeling today.
But I've been thinking about this for a long time. Hours, at least. And my hazy fucking mind is telling me the plan is gold. I get June, Parker gets June, and we all get to share the cash.
I just hope Parker gets it. The truth is, I’m not even sure whether I’m doing this for the money or just for June.
“There’s something we could do,” I say, and Parker edges closer on the couch, listening intently. I know I’ve got him now, and the words come rushing out. It’s done.
“There’s no way we are getting that money without doing something bad,” I explain.
“I’m not gonna kill June, Kade,” Parker interrupts immediately, and I’m shocked that he even thought I would think of something like that.
"Are you fucking crazy?" I snap at him. "I'm not going to fucking kill her."
"Then tell me," Parker urges.
“We’re not blood relatives,” I remind him, trying to ease him into the idea gently. “She’s not related to us at all, right?” I ask him, and he shakes his head, encouraging me to continue.
“What if,” I ask, building the tension before I finally pose the big question. “What if one of us married her?”
Parker looks revolted and like he’s about to speak up, but I hurry up with the explanation. This moment is crucial.
“What if one of us married her and then divorced her a few months later? Can you imagine how much money we could get? She would be heartbroken, so it would be easy to take it away. And then we would split it between the two of us…”
Parker looks at me silently. “I thought we didn't want to hurt June.”
Oh, brother, I want to do many, many things to June, and hurting her is in the top 5.
“Fine, fine. We’ll explain it to her,” I say to placate him. “And we’ll leave her with enough money to take care of herself, won’t we? We can all go back to being friends because the money issue won’t be there anymore, will it? We'll split it three ways, then.”
Parker thinks it through, and I imagine the cogs in his brain turning as my heart thumps in my chest, waiting for his answer. This could be it, I think. I could do this and marry her—and get over my obsession. I’m sure once I have her, it will pass. And all that money… Fuck, I wouldn't need to worry about anything ever again. And I'd be free of Parker. Parker, who still has no idea I have no intention of divorcing June. Once my ring is on her finger, she's fucking mine. Forever.
Something about tonight has brought my deepest, darkest fantasies out to play. I never should've spoken up. Parker's troubled face says it all. Yet I can't stop myself from hoping. Hoping I can convince Parker—and myself—that this is a good idea.
“Okay,” Parker says softly, and immediately, my smile grows wide as I slap his back. “I’ll do it.”
“There it is,” I say proudly, and we both get up and realize we can’t really stand with all the alcohol in our bodies.
We’re kind of afraid to look at each other, I think, because Parker refuses to meet my eyes. But he looks weirdly happy, excited. I knew he was struggling with less money to play with, but I didn’t think he’d be this willing. And obviously, there’s the subject of my stepsister. Sweet, long-legged June. It makes it all worth it if it means I get to taste that full mouth of hers.
Fuck. Am I going to go through with this?
“When do I start?” Parker asks after a minute or so passes, and I look at him to see him grinning. That’s the spirit, brother, I think proudly. I’m about to explain his role in the game—making sure June trusts me, convincing her I’m a good guy—when he speaks up again.
“You know, I did always have a little crush on June. I know, it’s weird… We were always so close. But this is the perfect chance to get it out of my system.” He gives me a wicked smile. “I wonder if she’s a virgin.”
My blood freezes in my veins, and all my hairs stand on end.
What the fuck just happened?
I’ve really fucking messed up this time.
I wake up with a roaring hangover and run to throw up in the sink, my mind pounding with yesterday’s conversation with my twin.
After Parker misunderstood me, I made the worst possible move, which I’m only realizing now. I threw up and went to sleep, and I never once told him I wanted to be the one who married June.
Thinking about it now as I wash my face and mouth, I realize Parker has a point. He’s the one who was always closer to June; he’s her best friend, her confidant. She trusts him. Sure, she cares about me too, but June and Parker… it just makes more sense.
But my goddamn jealous mind won’t accept it.
Parker must understand. He must. Because I’m not giving June up.
I walk back into the living room where Parker is stretched out on the couch.
“I’m dying,” he informs me, and despite all the worries, I smirk. He has always had a flair for the dramatic. Might be because he’s an artist.