“When I talked to you earlier, you said you had a girl, and I said I was in the mood to fuck her shit up. Then you said you were working on her already, but there would be some left if I hurried. I thought that meant we were going to share. You know, you’d take one end, and I’d take the other.” He thrust his hips forward while he made grunting noises.

“Oh, is that what you meant,” I said and smirked. “You do know that it sounded to me like you wanted to physically fuck her shit? I did save you what came out of her ass if you’re interested in that.” I pointed to the container holding large quantities of Heather’s feces. “But, I never said I was going to wait for you. Why do you always continue to see if you can manipulate me? You do understand what a hyperthymesia memory means, right?”

Abel waved his hand in the air dismissing the argument, then screwed up his face as he glared at the plastic container.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? I don’t want to fuck her shit. That’s just crazy.”

I stared at my brother and wondered if he recognized the irony of his statement, but he didn’t seem to, so I let it go. Abel shrugged as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, which pulled his jeans further down his body. There was nothing like looking like ‘you’ve crapped your pants’ as a style choice.

“I just like to see if you’re on your game,” he said.

“Right. How about you be clearer next time? She’s still warm if you want to fuck her. She was good at begging, but she didn’t have much talent. I doubt you’ll get much engagement now, though,” I teased and smirked as Abel rolled his eyes.

“If you hadn’t taken her eye, I woulda, you selfish prick. She looks like a cyclops now. It’s creepy.” Abel walked around Heather, whose legs were splayed open on my work table, and I knew that Abel was still considering the idea.

I preferred blood, whereas my brother only required a hole. Where that hole was didn’t really matter to him.

“Fuck it, why not,” Abel suddenly said and whipped his T-shirt off over his head.

My lips curled up in amusement and then fell again as I stared at his chest. Marching a few strides toward my brother, I poked him in the chest with enough force to make him step back.

“What the fuck is that,” I growled as I pointed to the tattoo across his chest. “Scrub the P? Are you fucking serious?”

Abel smiled wide, running his tongue along his teeth. “It’s fucking sexy right?”

“No, not right. I should slit your fucking throat. Now I have to get the same fucking thing.”