Troy
I was sure that Tyler’s fears were overblown. My twin is just too focused sometimes, too serious, making everything a full-blown red alert when it’s nothing. Honestly, this whole break-in thing? Who the fuck cared if there were some dancing girls on video? They were just try-outs and no money was exchanged.
As I understand it, convictions still have to be based on hard evidence, not circumstantial stuff like naked movies. There has to be a transaction, and there wasn’t in this case. But I guess Tyler has a point … law enforcement isn’t exactly rational, and going to trial would be a pain in the ass better to avoid.
“So what is it brother?” I asked, letting myself into the office.
The security consultant was there as well, and both heads turned as I strode in.
“Whoa, so serious!” I laughed, holding my hands up. “Looks like the doom squad is here.”
Tyler frowned, and I swear he was almost growling under his breath. But Mike, the security guy, was a professional.
“Mr. Lyon,” he said smoothly. “As you know, the safe room can only be accessed through the touchpad, which is keyed to you and your brothers’ fingerprints. Even identical twins have unique prints,” he said slowly.
“So what are you getting at?” I asked. “That I stole Tyler’s prints?” I still wasn’t taking this seriously, even as the snarl on my brother’s face intensified.
“No,” replied Mike. “The keypad history reveals that you were the one who broke in,” he said. “It’s your prints that opened the door, and your prints all over the computer in question.”
That got me.
“No … fucking … way,” I drawled with a smirk. “A ghost … with my fingerprints.”
Evidently, Tyler couldn’t take it anymore. He burst from his chair and tackled me, both of us falling to the ground with a hard thump and seized my collar.
“What the FUCK is wrong with you?” he roared, so red that his face looked like it was going to fucking burst, spittle hitting my chin. “What the FUCK?” he yelled, pounding my head against the floor.
The security man tried to intervene, but he was small and slim, no match for two six five athletes intent on beating each other to a pulp. I twisted in my brother’s grasp, managing to wrestle him into an awkward position and got a good punch to the head. By now the fight was loud, papers flying everywhere, furniture getting banged around, and I knew people outside could hear.
“There is NOTHING the FUCK wrong with me,” I roared back, not giving a fuck who knew we were fighting. The only thing I wanted was to pound my brother’s face, make him bleed. “You’re such a fucking DUMB SHIT!” I added with sucker punch to the groin. I don’t fight fair, especially with Tyler.
But my brother knew me too well and was able to twist his body so that the blow landed on his hip. With a guttural grunt, he kicked my thigh and was able to hit me in the abs, once, hard, which made me gasp, before I knocked his head against the side of the desk, his eyes rolling back in his head from the impact.
I was just about to deliver another blow when I heard Krissy’s voice above the din.
“Stop it! Stop it!” she shrieked, her hands covering her belly protectively. Even this early in the pregnancy, our little sister was conscious of her fragile state. I stood back, heaving, glaring murderously at my brother as he got up, trying to straighten his clothes despite the fact that they were torn and bloody.
“Mike, if you could please leave us for a moment, this is a family affair,” she said. The security guy nodded and disappeared wordlessly as Krissy shut the door.
“What is wrong with you?” she cried. “How can you be having a knock-down drag-out fight in a place of business? You’re the bosses here! You’re supposed to set an example!” she cried.
I was ashamed, and hung my head. Evidently, Tyler was feeling bad as well, and tried to explain.
“Well …” he began.
“No, don’t start,” she snapped. “I don’t want to hear it. By the time we get back home, the two of you better have shaped up,” she said, her eyes shimmering with tears. And that knocked sense into my head. We couldn’t support the woman we loved if we were fighting like beasts. We needed to provide a support system, a unified front during these trying times.
“Sister, you’re right,” I said, with a level glance at my brother. “Let’s just go home, and we’ll make it up to you.” And with that, I took her elbow and escorted her to the car.