Sworn Enemies - Rebel Hart Page 0,26

it, or else he’d hit me. And he would, and it would hurt, so I had every intention of keeping my mouth shut on the matter.

I walked into his apartment and was immediately smacked in the face with a melody of delightful smells—spices, searing meat, fresh vegetables, something sweet. Daniel was a world-class chef. He could go anywhere if he wanted. He could probably hit it big in a tourist city like New York or Los Angeles, but he was never able to get out of Idaho. He claimed it was because he liked living near me, but I knew the truth. He had fallen in love with someone he met back in high school. He stayed, hoping to one day reunite.

“Holy shit, it smells good in here.”

“Hey!” Daniel called from the kitchen. He walked out of the kitchen in his apron reading, “Kiss the cook.” It looked hilarious over his designer-ripped black jeans and black button-up. With his black hair and black eyes, he almost looked like a modern version of the grim reaper. “What’s up?” He held out a hand, and I did the cliche bro clap and shoulder bump.

“Well, certainly not things that I won’t mention because I don’t want to get hit,” I said with a grin, and he smiled.

“Good.” He pointed toward his living room, which was to the right of his apartment door. “There’s already a beer on the table. Make yourself comfortable. Dinner’s almost done.”

Daniel was my best friend. We were two of five brothers in my family and were the youngest two, with Daniel being about a year and a half older than me. All through school and into our adult lives, our preference was to hang out with one another. We had similar interests, ideals, and personality types, so we rarely argued. I’d been through more than one problem that he had helped me with, and my friendly-at-best relationship with my parents was because of the way they treated him when he made a passing mention to my parents about not knowing if his eventual life partner would be female. Homosexuality is not accepted in Judaism. Daniel was quick to tell them that he wasn’t gay, he just didn’t feel like he was entirely straight, but anything other than a woman was a problem for them.

Fortunately, my parents’ commitment to their children was greater than that to their faith, but the way it forced me, Daniel, and our older brother Uri away from the religion created additional problems. Our oldest brother, Adam, wouldn’t even speak to us. We got through it together, though. We always had each other, and that would never change.

I sat down in the living room, grabbed one of the beers, and took a deep breath. I was glad to kick back some. I didn’t do it often. I grabbed the remote off the coffee table and clicked on the television. It was sitting on a news channel, and I was just about to flip it off when something caught my attention—a clip of my game against the Widows.

“What the hell?” I turned the volume up on the TV and leaned in.

“Despite the Black Widows losing in their game against the Vipers, their official Twitter account announced that they are on the road to semi-pro status. The team’s captain, Quinn Dallen, is currently working with Commissioner Wright Johnson to get semi-pro games scheduled.”

“What?” I barked. “That snake!” My blood was boiling as whatever camera had captured the footage zoomed in on Quinn running with the ball.

“Hey!” Daniel walked into the living room and turned off the TV. “I said no!”

“Stop, Danny! This is important.” I used the remote to click the television back on, and Wright was on the screen with that same car-salesman look on his face. “This guy met with me yesterday and told me he was in agreement that the Widows should withdraw.” I picked up my phone and unlocked it. “I’ve got a tweet of my own. Let’s see her get around her fans knowing she’s a turncoat.”

Daniel turned to face the screen. “He thought they should stand down? That doesn’t seem to be his opinion now.”

“The Black Widows are a resilient team,” Wright saidon the TV. “I was impressed with what I saw yesterday. Quinn Dallen is an astounding captain, and I’m certain that under her leadership, they will have no problem achieving their semi-pro dreams!”

“He called her a child at the bar,” I growled. I started to Tweet, but Daniel snatched my

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