Page 81 of Cavern of Silence

"Then she should back the fuck off," he yells.

It's the last straw, and the final bit of self-control I have snaps.

I grab Hunter's shoulder, spin him, and punch him directly in the nose.

Blood spurts everywhere. Hunter's head snaps back, and his eyes turn dark, showing the fighter he is. He rushes me and plants one on my nose as well.

It bursts with blood, and I barely hear the women screaming.

We take each other to the ground. Any combat move we've learned from our employers, we engage in. But the bigger problem is both Hunter and I are conditioned to kill. It doesn't matter if it's with a gun, knife, bomb, or bare hands. We've been prepared and done it all.

Our brotherly bond is nowhere in the room. Body parts become weapons. Rationale doesn't exist. The animals in us only manifest into beasts.

I put Hunter in a sleeper hold, and he fish hooks my cheek before Tinker gets in the middle, trying to stop us. Both Hunter and I make contact with his face, but Tinker somehow manages to split us apart.

"What in God's name is wrong with you two?" Tinker barks, wiping blood off his mouth.

"He started it," we both shout at the same time.

"You're grown men. Act like it. Look what you've done." He points to the women, and the beast leaves me.

How could I have done this to her?

Vanessa has her arms around Julieta. They are both shaking, but Julieta is trembling harder and gasping for air.

"Julieta." I step toward her, and she cowers against the wall.

"Stay away," Vanessa yells and pulls her closer to her.

"Flower—"

"No!" Vanessa turns to Julieta. "Let's go." She leads her upstairs, and the door slams.

"What got into you?" Tinker seethes.

"Nothing," we both mutter in unison.

Tinker crosses his arms, his eyes in slits.

"Sorry," we both mumble.

"I don't think I'm the one you need to apologize to. Wash the blood off your faces." Shaking his head, he turns and leaves the room.

Hunter and I stare at each other. His body is covered in blood, and his face is already swelling. One of his eyes is almost swollen shut, and I feel mine doing the same.

"What did we do to them?" he mumbles.

"We seriously messed up," I reply.

For several moments we don't move. Tinker opens the door to the kitchen. "Get in here, you jackasses."

Like schoolboys in trouble, we quietly go into the kitchen.

"Sit." Tinker points at the table.

We take our seats, and he hands us wet washcloths. We clean the blood off our faces, but there is too much for the rags to absorb.

"What the fuck was that about?" he barks.