The Brotherhood of Vengeance

On a Roll

^^^^Dedication for the praises of my story. Without her commenting on most of this book so far, I would have put an end to it but with her feedback I remember what I'm writing for. Thank You!^^^^

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 Jace's POV

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"Before we continue with whatever crap you have built up for me, your name sure as hell can't be 'Jace'. I am Jace. The only Jace. The only child. You are a mere copy; a joke." I spat at him as I stared in his eyes. I saw no emotion displaying behind them. He barely blinked as if he was some kind of creature from a false world.

"No, my name is Jace. But I will not dwell on such a topic right now. We need to get some things completed. Once we do that, I can tell you all that you want to know. As of now, address me as J."

"What? What needs completeting?!" I shouted at him. My voice echoed along the walls of the master suite making me cringe at the pitch, J didn't make one sign of movement of my voice but started clucking his tongue at me.

"Anger is an ugly quality on you. It dulls out your eyes. You don't want to turn out looking like me now do you?" He laughed and began laughing harder to see that I was in no shape for games or jokes.

"Are you here to just talk because the town's psychiatrist lives right across the street."

"Oh, I'm here for many things." His smile disappeared as if he was serious for once then broke out into smile again. Man this guy has some serious problems.

"What do you need from me? If it is money, I don't have it. Not yet." I told him, don't most people who are crooks want you for money? What makes this guy any different?

"You have no money because your families will was written for you to receive it at the age of 22. When you gradute college."

I would go on asking about how he knew such business but it would be a waste of time. But him bringing up college was not the right thing to do.

"You were to attend college this fall and for someone who is supposed to graduate isn't as aglow as most grads."

"You have no right to approach me with this bull." I'm seriously tired of this guy thinking he knows it all because he clearly knows too much. It aggrivated me that he would touch up on my education like he was my father. Hello, he passed away three freaking years ago.

"Does me talking about your education upset you? I see your hands are slowly balling into fists and nose is flaring. You dropped out didn't you? You couldn't handle the hard work and pressure of college life. You thought life would be easier if you stayed and mooched off of your precious rich father. Our father."

The last statement pissed me off to such an unmeasurable degree I grabbed for his neck and started choking him. I wanted his throat to never breathe in a simple sigh of oxygen. I wanted him to suffer, no matter the fashion. His eyes were bulging masses of hazel globes with the whites turning a deep crimson red as time dragged on, which gave his eyes a vibrant glow of pure green. Kind of like Christmas time. Oh hell, what am I thinking?! I'm no crazed psycho killer. I hate him with such a passion but I'm no killer. I released him oddly regretting both actions and questioning as to why he didn't fight back.

He began to stagger backwards trying to catch his breath as his palms rested against his knee's. His heavy breathing filled the room with his hot breath. Each time he tried to talk his voice came out wheezy and ended up coughing up saliva with hints of blood. Once he started to compose himself, he smoothed over his outfit and adjusted his tie as if he was off to an interview. He smiled at me as if nothing happened. Nothing. How could he? This was inhumane.

"Liked what you saw? Me choking and struggling for a breathe of air stirred you onto the brink of insanity. It felt exhilerating. Arousing. Revenge is sweet isn't it?" I didn't say anything to pike up his psychological speech.

"Pack up all needed belongings we are going to take a visit.One far away from here. And don't try procrasinate because you will come along anyways." And with that he left the room humming a lulliby my mother used to sing, All the Pretty Little Horses.

Who is this guy?

As I began peeking out the window watching J walk towards a green toyota, my reflection began to show a bruise forming around my neck.