A STRIPPER FOR TWO BROTHERS

“To all the girls who want to be f****d senseless by one brother while the other watches—silent, hard as steel—knowing he’ll get his turn to ruin you next.” PROLOGUE The apartment smelled of Cinnamon, vanilla, and maple syrup. The kind of warmth that usually made her feel at ease. Paris stood in front of the stove, staring at the last badge of snickerdoodles and pancakes while Daniel wore his jacket in the hallway. He snuck up on her, his arms sliding around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulders as he exhaled. “You’re going to burn these if you keep daydreaming about me.” She laughed softly, leaning back into him. “I’m not daydreaming about you, I'm perfecting the ratio of Sugar Mr.” He turned her around, His hands framing her face, his thumbs brushing her cheekbones as he stared at her in Awe. “You know it hurts to leave you, mostly at night.” “I know,” she whispered, rising to her toes to kiss him. A kind of kiss that held a lot, like saying Goodbye without saying the actual word. They kissed harder, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips. She gripped his collar, pulling him closer, swallowing the low sounds he made. They finally broke the kiss apart, their foreheads pressed against each other as they caught their breath. “I love you so much, Paris. More than the badge, more than this job or any other sick Case I had to handle,” he whispered. Her throat tightened, but she still managed to smile. “Then come home early tonight.” “I will.” he kissed her again, but quickly this time. “Lock the doors, and double-check the windows. Also, save me at least three cookies.” He smiled, flashing his perfect dentition. “Five?” she smiled despite the ache in her ribs. “Fine.” he kissed her again. “I’ll call you on my way back.” She nodded, then the door clicked shut. Once again, everywhere went quiet except for the sound of the oven timer. In no time, the kitchen counter became crowded with the items she baked. She made some chocolate cake with chunks, because even when Daniel pretended to hate them, he would sneak down to eat them at night, and she would always catch him. Then she cooked some garlic buttered shrimp, lasagna, and risotto with saffron. She washed the dishes by hand, plated the food, anything to keep her busy and shove away the little hum of worry at the back of her head. She always hated it when Daniel had night shifts. A part of her couldn't help but think that one day he may not return. By ten, she was done with all she had to do. She left the food covered on the table, showered, and slipped into one of his old T-shirts. She walked around the house, ensuring the windows were locked. She couldn't help but feel another presence in the house. She turned around, walking casually, “Hello?” she called out, but no response. She locked the doors and closed the curtains. Paris tried to sleep, but couldn't. The fact that Daniel wasn't at home and she felt another presence in the house clouded her ability to think well. She took his pillow, clutching it, hoping to fall asleep—which she did. Her phone ringing, jolted her awake. A smile plastered on her face as she reached for her phone, thinking it was Daniel. She saw an unknown number on the screen and her heart hammered. She looked at the time and it was 2:45. “Hello.” she picked. “Is this Paris Clain?” A man spoke over the phone. “Yes—who is this?” she managed, sweat already pooling in her palms. “Do you know Daniel Reyes?” Her heart sank. She didn't want to think the worst yet. “He’s my Fiance, any problem?” The other line went silent for what felt more than a minute. “Ma’am, I'm sorry to inform you, but… Officer Reyes was shot six times in the stomach. He didn't make it.” he whispered the last part. Her phone slipped from her fingers, and she didn't hear the rest. She was already outside running barefoot, still in his T shirt. The rain started with her noticing, she ran past the red lights, her whole body went numb she couldn't even feel the cold. She didn't notice the pavement digging into her soles, she just ran straight to the address the man barked before the line went dead. She spotted the alley from a distance, the blue and red light pulsing against the breaks, officers with uniforms scattered everywhere. She ducked under the tape, screaming his name. “Daniel, Daniel.” They tried to hold her down, but she shoved them away until she saw him. He lay on his back, inside a pool of blood that shone black under the street light. His uniform was soaked, with ragged holes. His eyes open, staring into nothing. Paris dropped beside him, her hands shaking as she reached for his face. “No-no no no- baby, please wake up,” she screamed, tears rolling down her cheeks. Blood soaked her palms. She pressed them against his chest like she was going to pump life back into him. “Daniel!! Please, look at me.” she choked on her sob. She released an animalistic scream, her whole body cooling instantly. The rain hammered her back, her shirt sticking to her skin, her hair plastered to her face. Mixed with saliva and Tears, and the faint taste of copper on her lips when she kissed his forehead, his mouth, and his eyes. Someone crouched beside her—a man detective dressed in plain clothes. He handed her a folded paper, the edge stained with blood. “He asked one of the officers to give this to you…if anything happened.” he sniffed. Her fingers trembled badly she almost dropped the paper. She struggled to unfold it, “DON’T TRUST ANYONE.” in Daniel's shaky writing. She stared at the note until the ink blurred. She screamed again, clutching his shirt as she shook him, crying and begging him to come back. Before she could realize, a black Mercedes drove past, firing a shot from inside, almost at her. Her whole body froze as the car drove by. The officers scattered, some entering their van to chase the car, while the rest rushed to her, scanning her for any injury. The world tilted, black dots hovered at the edge of her vision. She didn't even hear the officers shout for her. She only felt this sick certainty, that whoever did this wasn't finished yet, and the man she almost got married to, had known it was coming, yet he walked out the door, knowing he was targeted.