Free Get Lost by Xavier Neal

what?” My voice tries to interject.
    “You think being a Lost Boy is worth risking my life every time I turn the corner?” Justin yells furiously.
    “Did you forget you don’t have a life outside of being a Lost Boy?” Peter  growls, popping the  collar of his green, fitted T-shirt. After a long stare off, he smirks. “That’s right. You  work for me. You do what I say. I make the rules. Without me, there is no you. Don’t you forget it.”
    “That’s not…” Justin’s voice pauses and trails off. “That’s not even—”
    “What are you two talking about?” I flag them down from the opposite side of the roof.
    “You brought her here for what? Sympathy points?”
    Peter points at me with his cup hand.
    “I brought her here because I’m keeping up my end of the job!” Justin yells, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I brought her here because, if you want a shot at this stupid plan of yours working, she’s going to need a little more than what you’ve allowed me to tell her.”
    Peter slowly strolls toward me and takes another drink. Through the cup, he mutters, “You look sexy.”
    “Thanks.” I hear myself  say.
    “I really like the cut.” His hand caresses the split, while his tongue caresses his lips.
    Justin clears his throat loudly. “Peter.”
    “Don’t get your panties in a twist,” he grunts at him. Peter sits down on a lounge chair, insisting I sit in the one beside him, while Justin leans between the twins. “You have some questions for me?”
    “Kind of,” I chirp out nervously. “Are they dirty questions?”
    “I…um…well…uh…”
    “You’re easy.” Peter laughs under his breath. “You must be to be interested in a guy like—”
    “Watch it.” Justin snaps. “Answer her.”
    “Well?” Peter takes another drink. “Ask.”
    “Um,” I mumble and twirl my hair around my finger a few times. “Uh,  well…”
    Peter croaks out, annoyed, “Geez, Justin, I didn’t realize the kind of girl you were working with.”
    “You’re such a jerk.” He points a stern finger at him. “Maybe if she didn’t have to ask an inconsiderate moron like you.”
    “Oh, I’m a moron.”
    “If the forest leaves fit.”
    “You know what—”
    “They’re not in season?”
    “You  know—”
    “I know I’m tired of the two of you and your fighting.” A soft, feminine voice chimes in.
    My head immediately turns to look behind me where a gorgeous girl is floating over the edge onto the rooftop. I admire her long, thin, tall figure, which is cloaked in a pair of short leather shorts and a pink T-shirt with the words “Think Tink” on it.
    “Are those wings?” I croak out, falling back in my seat.
    With a touch of her blond bob, they disappear. “It’s not polite to stare.”
    “Sorry.” I sheepishly hang my face, which is when I see the cup that was in Peter’s hand lower and get scooted back by the heel of his foot.
    “Who’s the girl?” she asks, immediately looking at Peter.
    “Hey, don’t give me that look.” He innocently tosses his hands up. “This time she’s not my doing. Blame the loser who got our painting stolen.”
    “You got the painting stolen?” the girl croaks loudly. “I didn’t get  anything  stolen!”  Justin snaps back.
    “I merely went to retrieve it when, once more, I was ‘magically’ attacked by the Dark Watchers. Funny how, every time Peyton’s with me, they attack, Peter.”
    “What are you implying?” He leans forward. “What! You think I called the Dark Watchers up and said, ‘Hey, why don’t you run interference for us? Justin could use the practice.’ Even though you could.”
    With annoyed breath, Justin responds, “Oh, I could use the practice? When’s the last time you picked up a sword, pretty boy?”
    Doing his best not to slur, he points. “Hey, hey, I can pick up a sword.”
    “But can you use it?” The attitude causes Peter to open his mouth to retort when the girl cuts them both