“Okay, well, we’re going now. Thanks for hiding it so we got a pay increase, I guess.”
I toss my bag onto my bed, grab my shower caddy, and take the hottest shower of all existence in the communal showers. When I return, Jacob has taken his own shower and is lying on the bed with his hair damp and his fingers loosely tangled over his abdomen.
“Chin up, bro, free money,” I tell him.
But Jacob doesn’t reply, which has become par for the course lately. I don’t know what’s wrong with him, and I’m not used to seeing him so sullen. Jacob is usually the life ofthe party, the one everyone wants, and I’ve spent much of my life pretending to be as much like him as I can, despite wanting to be the opposite. I want to be at home curled up with a book, glasses on, and a mug of tea in my hand. But that’s not thecoolguy kind of evening to have it seems. Jacob’s the cool one. He always has been, with his effortless looks and easygoing personality. The one everyone wanted in high school, the star athlete, and I was the twin who just barely held up to him.
“I guess we’re going,” Jacob says as we both cuddle into our beds for the night.
“We’re definitely going.” And that’s that.
Jacob swears in irritation while hopping over a puddle in the dark. The address is a warehouse on the outskirts of the city, and the sky has a thin layer of clouds covering the stars. We both dressed in casual clothes as if prepared for a fight. We’re both trained in martial arts, so at least if something crazy goes down, we can defend ourselves.
The warehouse is empty but for a laptop and briefcase resting on a chair in the center of the room. Looking down at my watch, I realize we’re a few minutes early, and maybe everyone else has decided to be on time or, more likely, late to sus out if we’ve been invited here to be hacked apart and sold for pieces on the black market.
“At least we’re first,” I say brightly.
Jacob hums absently as his gaze sweeps across the room, probably carefully noting all the various exits around us. Afew moments later, the sound of someone else opening the door has us both spinning around. A blond man who’s the perfect copy of a Greek god walks through the doors. He’s about our age, just a little shorter than us, with perfectly styled naturally blond hair, and the way he carries himself tells me he’s probably the one in charge of this entire thing.
“Sup?” Jacob calls out.
The man waves as he approaches. “You got the invite too?”
“Yeah, you’re not in charge?” I ask, leveling him with a suspicious look.
He rears back in surprise. “Why would you think I’m in charge? I got the invite too, just like you. I’m Hayden.”
The three of us shake hands like very mature adults. We make idle chitchat awkwardly, but I zone out a little bit, more focused on the computer with the screen saver in the center of the room. The door opens again to reveal a tall young guy with light brown skin, dark, slightly wavy hair, and a permanent-looking scowl.
“So, we fighting?” the new guy calls out.
Hayden frowns at him. “Why do you think we’re fighting?”
“I mean, why else would I be here with two thousand dollars deposited in my bank account?” he asks, but all I can think about is how he got shortchanged because Jacob and I each got four thousand dollars.
He finishes crossing the warehouse and comes to a stop in front of us, surveying the room, his curious gaze landing on the computer just like mine had. Suddenly, the screen saver flashes in the dark, a countdown appearing on the screen. My heart starts to race a little from the fear of the unknown, but also from excitement that maybe I’ll finally get to dosomething other than go to school and wait for Jacob to reappear in the dorm.
The new guy glances down at his watch, then glances back up, catching my gaze.
“I’m Parker.” I hold my hand out for him to shake. I wince from the strength of his grip and fight the urge to pull away. “Nice handshake.”
“Ditto,” he says. “I’m Dante.”
“What’s your degree?”
“Engineering,” Dante says. “You?”
“English lit,” I answer, then point at my brother. “That’s Jacob, his degree is in biomedical engineering. Blond god over here is majoring in math.”
“Math?” Dante asks curiously.
“I like numbers,” Hayden says with a lazy shrug. “I’m Hayden.”
Dante hums and crosses his arms over his broad chest. The countdown hits nine and Hayden gasps in what sounds a little like surprise from beside Jacob, but all my attention gets diverted to the computer. No person comes up on the screen, just an audio application that shows the decibels of the person speaking.
“Thank you for being good boys and showing up,” the computerized voice says. “I’ve chosen all of you because you have a skill set I can use, and those skills are for me to know only. I’d like to start a team that gives the bad people what they deserve.”
“Like Robin Hood?” I ask curiously.
