Rivals

Chapter 12

"The Storm"

     Two more months. That's the plan. Just two more months and it'll be over.

My palms are slick with sweat, beneath the starry night sky, as Rio's tall silhouette leads me to the back of the desolate mechanic shop's lot.

There are countless run-down vehicles amongst the sandy ground beneath my black ankle boots - aside from one car that stands out due to it's sleek red paint job to differ.

It must be Peterson's car.

And considering that car is the only keen one I spot across the desolate lot, I assume Peterson is the only one here to negotiate or whatever his intentions are to do about Rio.

An uneasy feeling suffices, just at the reminder that Rio doesn't intend to give Peterson his money back. If Rio does that, it'll save us from anymore trouble. And I could just grab Cal and get him out of here without having to look back.

I notice that Rio suddenly slows down in his calm tracks, so I do so too. In my leather jacket, I peer over the gang leader's shoulder to follow his dark gaze.

"Rio..." I hear my twin brother's voice surface with provoking relief. And the second I finally see him, standing alongside the back of the mechanic shop's brick exterior, sudden relief consumes me.

I watch my brother begin to form a genuine grin that quite surprises me, as he sees Rio proceed in his steps towards him.

Then I step around from behind the tall gang leader, for Callum's ocean irises to lock on mine. I feel my lips instinctively curve upward as his smile widens.

"Bells," he breathes, going to pace towards my direction. With quirked lips I glance at Rio, a moment, before making my way to my brother.

But before I could even near within five feet to pull Callum into a hug, a deep voice calls out from somewhere nearby; causing me to slightly jump and come to a complete halt in my anticipated steps.

"Not so fast," the voice speaks, earning for my blue-green eyes to scan across the dark and sandy lot instantly, but I don't gather a thing.

"Let 'em hug, Peterson. We're here to handle business just like you asked." I hear Rio start from behind me - his husky tone domineering as he deliberately glances around, too.

"Tell me when's the last time a little family reunion harmed anybody?" Rio speaks again. I notice he takes a smooth and careful step closer to me. I don't move.

And my gaze finally finds him.
Peterson seems to be around the same age as the three of us - with black hair combed back slickly. He's averagely well-built, in a simple white t-shirt and blue jeans - his skin pale to accumulate his inscrutable black irises as a lit cigarette hangs from his barely parted thin lips.

My blood begins to pump cold, as I remain still, quickly looking at Callum to see his shoulders slightly tense, as he keeps his eyes on Peterson.

I mentally note the gun I have tucked in the rim of my jeans, but know not to reach for it, not yet. And my blue-green eyes revert onto Rio's blazing brown pair cautiously; silently pleading for him to just hand Peterson over his money so this 'business' could be settled.