The Rogue Anthology

Appendix 6 - His Mute Luna

~ A brief look at the shenanigans that Morgan and his brothers got up to (we all know it's really Cal and Cam that are the instigators). Morgan would be 16, Michael would be 14 and Callum and Cameron would be 11 ~

Morgan

Doing my homework, which was due for Monday, on my bed with some music playing in the background, today had been just like any other; even if my family was a little more eccentric than others. My mom and dad had gone out shopping for my grandma's birthday, so I had been left to babysit my younger brothers. Michael was 14 so he didn't really need 'babying', as he argued. Cal and Cam were busy playing with water balloons outside so they were occupied for at least an hour… or so I thought.

I heard a strange pop. At first, I thought it was something on one of the songs playing, till I muted it and heard another bang come from outside. I looked up and was about to get off my bed to see what the hell those little shits were up to when one of my windows suddenly smashed. I dropped to the ground on instinct at the side of my bed, peering up to see what the f**k was happening.

I tried to tiptoe around the broken glass in my bare feet, only dressed in shorts and a t-shirt because I wasn't expecting an incoming attack in the middle of my algebra. I went to my larger window, opening it to shout down.

"The hell are you do… are you playing with fireworks?!" How had they gone from 'water balloons', to this?

"No… " Cam innocently denied, trying to flash me some puppy eyes… as a little rocket flew away from him.

Goddess, mom and dad would kill me if they came home to this.

"Get inside, now!" I yelled.

"We're just playing," Cal began to whine.

"Get inside, and I'll cook some of the cookie dough I know mom has stashed in the freezer," I bargained, knowing food would get them inside without a fuss, so I could kill them in privacy.

They dropped everything and ran in. These two were ridiculously easy to influence sometimes. I hurried downstairs, avoiding the glass again; no way was I cleaning this up. I could hear Cal and Cam laughing in the kitchen, bouncing up and down at the breakfast bar with the frozen cookie dough already out, like they hadn't just been playing with actual explosives!

"Did you break something upstairs?" Michael poked his head out from the front living room.

"No, but I'm about to."

"What did they do now?" Michael knowingly asked, following me.

"Morgan! We got it ou…" Cal started, excited. But they were nowhere near off the hook.

"You two are going upstairs and cleaning all the glass up!"

"What if we cut ourselves? We could get hurt," Cam tried to give me his big eyes again. They worked on mom and dad, and practically everyone else, but they never worked on me.

"That's a risk I'm willing to take," I handed them a broom and a dustpan.

"This isn't fair! Michael told us how to make the bottle rockets," Cal pointed his finger at our brother.

"You liar! I said they could be homemade!" Michael shouted back.

"Why would you even tell them something like that?" I sighed.

"How did I know the pair of idiots would actually go off and make some!" He cried, throwing his hands in the air.

"Is this the first time you're meeting these two?" I raised my brow at him.

"Go clean," I turned to the twins. "You don't come down those stairs till all the glass is gone, or you'll never eat a cookie again."

They groaned and stomped their way up the stairs. At least they were actually doing as they were told. I took out a sharp knife and began slicing off some thin slabs of the cookie dough. They'd make a decent bribe to not go shooting their mouths off, but we never tattled on each other. The cone of silence was a sacred vow none of us would break.

"Do you know where mom keeps her key for her studio?" Michael asked as I turned the oven on.

Our mom had a small art studio in the backyard where she kept all her supplies and canvases, locking them away out of the twins' grasp.

"No. Why?"

"All my paint's gone. I needed to raid hers," he furrowed his brows.

Mom just bought him a ton. How could he already be out?...

I noticed it was far too quiet upstairs. 'Quiet' with Cal and Cam was never a good sign. What I did hear was a loud burst of giggling outside. I turned the oven off and hurried over to the kitchen window, seeing identical crowns of dark brown curls go running off into the forest at the back of our house.

"Those little fuckers!" I shouted and ran to the hallway to grab my sneakers.

I hopped on one foot trying to cram the other into my converse, only to topple over sideways.

"Ow," I rubbed my elbow and blew one of my dark red curls out of my eyes.

"Jeez, you're such a clutz," Michael calmly pulled on his shoes and handed me mine that had been thrown across the hall.

Feeling the heat creep up in my face, I shoved my other sneaker on and ran out of the backdoor with Michael close behind. I followed the direction I saw my youngest brothers take, wishing I had my wolf so I could track them properly. I didn't know what they were up to, but it involved the bottle rockets and Michael's missing paint. I could only assume the water balloons they were dicking around with were just to throw me off.

I heard a faint pop not too far away and headed in its direction, spotting Cal about to light a slightly larger bottle rocket than I had seen them with in the backyard.

"Callum!" I called out, making him freeze.

Unfortunately, it wasn't in time to stop the rocket taking off. I followed its path, watching it pop at the side of someone's home, coating the white shingles in colourful paint that burst from what looked like a balloon.

…So that's what the water balloons were for.

"What the actual f**k!" I whisper-yelled, grabbing his collar. "Do you have any clue how much trouble we're gonna be in now?"

"In our defence, Cal said it would be funny," Cam grinned at the side.

"Traitor!" The twin in my hand broke free and the pair of them squabbled in a heap on the forest floor.

Michael sighed, grabbing one, while I grabbed the other.

"Why would you two do something this insane?!" I whispered, hoping that no one had seen us yet.

"Because the boy that lives there called Cal a bad word!" Cam protested in my arms.

I set him down on his feet and turned him around, "what do you mean?"

"Cal kissed a boy at school and another boy called him the 'F' word," he looked up at me seriously.

"'F' word?" I repeated, confused.

"I think he means 'F. A. G'," Michael spelt out, putting our other brother down. "Why are you going around kissing other kids anyway? You're 11."

Cal shrugged, "I dunno. I wanted to know what it was like."

I hadn't even had my first kiss yet and my 11 year old brother was already ahead of me. But no matter who he'd gone around kissing, the name he had been called was a huge no in my books. My exasperation with my twin brothers eased and I threw my head back sighing.

"Fine," I handed them the final small rocket… I couldn't believe I was letting them do this.

"Yeah!" The two dumdums exclaimed and I was already regretting this.

They wasted no time lighting the fuse and the rocket took off. But where the first two had hit the side of the house with no windows, this one veered off only to circle back and smash through a window, exploding paint everywhere on the inside.

The four of us stood wide-eyed, not saying a word, looking at the scene in front of us.

"We are so screwed," Michael said slowly.

"Grab one!" I shouted at him, stuffing the nearest twin under my arm, who I could only assume was Cal, but I didn't give a s**t as to identities right now.

"Morgan! Put me down!" The twin under my arm whined. Yep, that was definitely Cal.

Michael was trying to keep up at the side, struggling to hold onto Cam. So I took our brother he was having trouble with and threw him over my shoulder so Michael could focus on not falling over.

Our backyard came into view and I unceremoniously dumped the twins on the ground, while my younger brother and I heaved for breath.

"Cone of silence," I said, with all seriousness. "None of us ever mentions anything about this, ever. Michael, don't say anything about your paint or mom and dad will figure it out. I'll sneak you some when I can."

"Don't worry about me. I'm already mentally deleting any of this happened!" He said wide-eyed.

Walking back to the backdoor, which was still wide open, I spotted the rope ladder of bed sheets hanging out of my window.

"You little shits actually made a rope out of my bedding!"

"You said we couldn't come down the stairs, you didn't say anything about the window," Cam tried to give me the innocent face.

I wiped my hand down my face to keep from throttling the pair of them. I will never want pups after this!

"Both of you upstairs, clean up the glass, or I'll throw you on the roof!" I bit out.

Cam hung his head and waddled off while Cal kicked at the grass in his huge bratty mood, following his twin. I would rather herd cats than babysit these two ever again.

"Will you help me untie that thing before mom and dad get home?" I pointed at the rope and walked back into the house.

"I was an actual innocent bystander. Why am I getting dragged into this?" He complained.

"Because you planted this whole idea, letting them know there was a way to make fireworks at home," I dragged him with me.

We both kept our shoes on and got to work untying the stupidly tight knots that a pair of pups had made. Cal and Cam did little sweeping and kept trying to duel each other with the broom and dustpan.

"I swear! I'm gonna fly you both like flags if you don't quit it!" I snapped, undoing the last knot.

"You might as well go cook the cookie dough, otherwise mom's gonna wonder why it's out," Michael suggested. "I'll make sure the fuckwits actually sweep. And maybe I'll check out your reading stash," he wriggled his eyebrows and reached under my bed.

"Hey!" I dove at him, completely crimson faced, and tried to snatch what was in his hands. How the hell did he know where I hid them?!

"I've already seen them," he laughed, holding the magazine behind him as I tried to fight to get it back. "It's not my fault you read porn like a pilgrim."

"What's porn?" Cam tilted his head to the side.

This day was just getting worse. I was not having this talk with my baby brothers. It was bad enough explaining what an erection was, when he came running to me with one at the age of 7, crying, thinking it was broken.

"Oliver at school said it's when you spank a monkey," Cal shouted with way too much energy.

"What did the monkey do?" Cam asked innocently. Oh goddess, was it getting warm in here or was it just me?

"You're kissing boys at school and you don't know what porn is? That's just sad," Michael shook his head, opening the magazine. "Do you have a thing for blondes? Because they seem to feature a lot for you."

"That's it! I'm done with this room," I marched out, feeling my face match my hair colour.

Why couldn't I be an only child?

I rage made the cookie dough and threw it in the oven, feeling somewhat better afterwards, and sat at the breakfast and rested my forehead against the cold granite worktop. f**k this day, I just wanted to study!

"Finished!" Cal jumped on my back.

"Are they ready?" Cam turned his head upside down at the oven to look in.

The little asswipes had given me a damned heart attack and it was like they didn't even realise how much s**t we were all in. The timer dinged and the pair of them were already trying to snatch one off the tray as I got them out. Of course, they almost burnt themselves and whined.

"For the love of…" I pinched my brow in frustration. "Go put a movie on or something in the living room and I'll bring them through when they've cooled."

I was tempted to just eat the whole plate to myself in front of them. I grabbed my homework from upstairs, blushing furiously when I saw Michael had dug out my entire stash and spread them out on my bed. f**k, I needed a new hiding spot.

Trying to ignore the urge to throw the plate at them, I set the cookies down on the coffee table. Cal and Cam dug in happily, lying on their fronts with cushions, and watching cartoons. Whoever their fated mate was in this world, was going to need an abundance of energy and patience to deal with them.

I sat in the armchair, cross-legged, trying to finish my homework, because there was no way I was leaving the twins unsupervised again. Michael just slouched on the couch reading, I almost thought he was blocking everything out until he spoke up.

"What are you gonna tell mom and dad about your window?"

"Uhhh," I had no clue. I hadn't even thought about it, distracted with everything else.

"Maybe you should just tell them the truth?" He dropped his open book down on his chest.

"Tell them Tweedledee and Tweedledummer were playing with fireworks and then we let them vandalise a pack member's home?" I deadpanned.

"No," he drew out. "Say Cal and Cam were dicking around and broke it, which is technically true."

"Why are you blaming this on us!" Cal whined once more, sitting upright and having the gall to look annoyed.

"That better be a sarcastic question. Because if not, you're about to choke on your pillow," I snapped.

All those two had to do was bat their big eyes and mom and dad would forgive them for bloody murder. Cal turned back around, grumbling to himself quietly. That usually meant he knew he was in the wrong and didn't want to admit it.

Near the end of the cartoon my youngest brothers had put on, the front door opened. Our mother quickly appeared in the archway and, as usual, Cal and Cam went flying into her arms.

"My baby boys!" She hugged them tightly, kissing them all over and fussing as always.

"Oh! Did you make them snacks?" She eyed the empty plate the twins had left on the carpet.

"Morgan did," Michael answered.

"Such a sweet boy," she stroked my cheek and promptly wrapped her arms around my neck where I sat and smothered my face in kisses.

"Mom!" I tried to wriggle out of her hold.

I finally managed to escape but my homework had gone all over the place. I saw Cam pulling at dad's sleeve, giving his best doe-eyed performance.

"We broke Morgan's window. Me and Cal got carried away playing outside. Don't be mad," and his bottom lip actually quivered.

"That's ok," dad stroked his cheek. "Just as long as you're not hurt. Did your brother clean up your mess?"

"No, we did. Morgan made us," Cal jumped at our dad.

"Morgan! You should've helped them. They're just pups, they could've cut themselves," our mom frowned at me.

Cal gave me a cheeky grin as I glared at him. Oh, that little s**t was going down later. Michael was no help either, he just smirked at our younger brothers' act.

Our mom breezed out of the room, going to put her bags away upstairs and I noticed our dad lean back as if checking she was out of earshot.

"So… were you all playing outside?" He asked in a quiet voice.

The twins fell silent, looking at me for my answer. Michael's book rose higher and he ducked further behind it. Subtle.

"Uhhh, no. I've been studying," I waved my notebook.

"There's fresh dirt on yours and Michael's shoes by the front door," he crossed his arms over his chest.

Michael's wide eyes peered over his book and we glanced at each other for a split-second, panic raising.

"I also got a very interesting mind-link on the drive home, from a pack member. But neither of you four would have any idea about that?" Our dad continued in his calm and quiet tone.

"No?" I squeaked.

…He knew. And he was pissed. The calmer he was, the worse it was.

"None of you want to tell me anything?" He asked a final time.

The four of us looked at each other, the guilt written all over our faces, but none of us willing to snitch.

"Very well. I guess you four are going to be spending all your free time at home, for the next 6 months," he almost growled. "Your mother doesn't need to know why."

That was his silent way of saying we were in deep s**t and we were grounded. As soon as mom reappeared, our dad tried to force a casual smile onto his face, but glared at us all when her back was turned.

"My special boy," she pulled Michael up. "Have you finished your picture? Can I see?"

"Uhh," he floundered.

"What's the matter, son? Out of paint?" Dad challenged with a sly smirk, knowing full well he had us.

The next time I was saddled with babysitting, I was taping the twins to the wall.