Page 2 of Twisted Needs

“Luca pisst me off,” is the first thing he mutters, biting each word. “So that’s why I’m mad.”

“No shit, Sherlock. Why else would I drive over here in my jammies to come beat him up for you?”

A smile twitches at the corner of Anders’s mouth.

“Let’s cut the shit,” I say. “You’re eight now. Talk to me man-to-man.”

The kid lets out an exhausted sigh. “He took my birthday card from Rogo. He stole it from me.”

I glance toward the kitchen where Luca is pretending not to listen, but I feel like I can breathe a little when he gives me a nod of approval. I’ve always had a way with Anders, but I still wait for Luca to give me a green light before I work my family-healing magic.

Turning back to Anders, I scratch my jaw. “You really wanna read a card from that old smelly fool? I bet it smelled like cigarettes.”

“No.” Anders folds his arms across his chest, trying to make himself look bigger. “I just wanted to rip it up and throw it in the mud.”

My throat tightens. “What if we burned it?” I suggest. “That way it’ll be like it never existed.”

Anders immediately looks interested. “Yeah?”

I nod. “Absolutely.”

His eyes narrow skeptically. “Don’t lie to me, Pet’ka.”

“We’re best friends,” I say solemnly, holding up my pinky. “We never lie.” Hooking his tiny pink around mine, he studies me for a minute, trying to decide if he believes me.

Finally, after a short beat of silence, but careful deliberation, he slides off the couch. Without another word, he walks across the apartment. Luca barely has time to straighten before Anders throws his arms around him.

Just like that, everything inside the room seems to stop.

Luca looks down at his brother like someone just handed him oxygen after spending hours beneath the surface, and the expression on his face destroys me. He drops to his knees and wraps both arms around Anders, holding him almost frantically.

“Don’t cry,” Anders mutters to his brother, patting his back a little too rough to be considered consoling.

I bite back a grin.

“I’m not,” Luca sniffles, swiping a hand across his face. “I just…I love you, mano.”

Lifting his shoulders and dropping them, Anders sighs in a way kids do when they can’t fully understand. “Okay. I love you, too.”

A few moments later, Luca hoists Anders onto the kitchen counter beside the sink before producing an enormous lighter from the junk drawer. I start laughing immediately when Anders lets out a tiny, but menacing laugh.

“Don’t tell Emelie we’re setting fires,” Luca jokes. “She’ll take you away from me.” adding a bit of seriousness, so Anders knows this should just be between them.

“M’kay,” Anders giggles, his mouth curling into an excited grin. He flicks the lighter once, but misses. A second time he tries a tiny flame ignites and the envelope catches instantly. The bright orange flames start to engulf the paper, the edges folding inward.

Anders drops the burning envelope into the sink. Together, he and Luca watch it burn, completely captivated by the light and the warmth. The smoke alarm starts comically screeching overhead, but neither of them go to move.

I started to laugh so hard my stomach hurt. Luca doesn’t even blink, living completely in that moment with his brother.

For a moment, nobody says anything. But then Anders yawns like he’s finally ready to put this night to a close.

Luca stares at him. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. Is this all it took for you to forgive me?”

“Yeah.” Anders rubs his eyes and sleep finally wins the battle. “I won’t tell Emelie. You can keep me.”

I stand from the couch. “Congratulations,” I tell Luca. “Your brother is a little pyro.”

Luca snorts.