𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐬

CHAPTER ONE - THE VISION

Stopping at a booth to drop two more beers, I tried not to pay attention to the leering stares coming my way. Most were locals who knew what happened if they pushed my buttons, so I didn't worry about grabby hands.

All I needed was an idiot to try catcalling me again to blow up.

Joey was laughing when I returned, filling up a glass of bourbon for one of the few who actually drank the stuff. The most common bourbon drinker we had was the one and only sitting at the counter, Odette Moreau. Ody, for short, was a New Orleans girl who decided to uproot her life in Rochwin, a city upstate to Vancouver. She owned a herb shop down the street the locals were crazy about. They came close to obsession when it came to her herbal teas and medicinal treatments.

"Oh, ma chérie!" Something akin to pity passed in the Odette's gaze as she took in my figure. "You look…"

Frustrated? Angry? A little stressed?

"…exhausted."

That was the word!

She clucked her tongue in a manner only she could, shaking her head vigorously. "You need to sit down. Come, come now."

Glancing at Joey, who cleared her throat and looked away, I hesitated before taking the offer. Then I remembered why I was in my mood in the first place and I took that fucking seat in front of Ody. I refused to lower myself to the level of pettiness of commenting at Joey's visible distress. As much as I wished to blame her for my mood plummeting tonight, I couldn't hold it against her for cowering in the corner of the bar. Busy, marvelous nights made people ballsy. Hence the few whistlers I refused to identify at the risk of getting aggressive.

"Jo, pour your sister a drink, don't just stand there," our dear friend chided my twin, a twitch of her brows setting Joey in motion. The ebony woman with beads attached in black braids took a hold of my hand and smiled at me. "Now, now, chérie, tell me what is bothering you, oui?"

Her motherly attitude towards us irritated me on good days, but tonight I was just a teensy bit grateful for her caring nature.

"Just tired," I muttered, downing the shot of tequila Joey handed over. "And pissed off." I ignored the dark, blue eyes glaring holes into the side of my face at the little remark—might've slipped. "What about you? And Hugo, how's he?"

Green eyes narrowed on me at the change of subject, Ody's lips twitching down at the corners. And yet, she relented, "I am well." She shifted the scarf she had wrapped around the shoulders so it wouldn't slip off. "As for my brother, he is as well as always. Better, actually. He had a date tonight."

Two blue stares pinned down our friend, mine and my sister's.

"What do you mean… date?"

"What kind of date?"

Odette tilted her head, cocking a brow, "And why, pray tell, would you two be bothered?"

Joey spluttered. I glowered.

Hugo Moreau, eighteen year old brother of Odette, was the sweet teenager that came to your aid any time you needed help. He was the kid who leveled his school work, extracurricular activities, athletic role and part-time job like a pro. My sister and I took him as our own ever since our paths crossed. To say we were a bit overprotective of him was an understatement. The boy was too much of a kindhearted darling. The thought of someone hurting him, breaking his heart how we were sure some heartless skank or rudish asshole were capable of… both Joey and I would have words with them. Bloody words.

"We're curious." I brushed some lint off my shoulder while Joey cleared her throat.

Despite our differences, we would always be a team. Threatening or teaching some teenagers a lesson wasn't something we were opposed to.