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Dammit.
“Yeah. We broke up.”
“What?” Ella gasped, almost walking headfirst into a street pole. I tugged her aside just in time. “You two were, like, goals. End-game status. Oh, shit! I’m so sorry, Em. What did he do? Do I need to kick his ass?”
Tears were running down my cheeks, so the laughter that bubbled up took me by surprise. Ella attacking Jack was a comical image. The blonde firecracker might even give him a run for his money.
“No, El.” I sighed, the echo of a laugh hurting my lungs. “I’d rather not discuss it. It’s sister weekend and I’m in need of a distraction.”
Ella clapped her hands, accepting the challenge. “Pizza and candy and wine and movies and pedicures and—”
“You had me at wine,” I said, attempting to hail a cab. “As long as you don’t tell Mom and Dad.”
“Please.” Ella scoffed. “By the way, why are we taking taxis? The subway is faster.”
She was right, of course. It was so ingrained in me—the promise I had made to Jack about not using underground transportation. But he’d obliterated the biggest promise of all by sleeping with another woman. Besides, my safety was no longer a priority to him.
“You’re onto something, little sis.” I stepped back onto the sidewalk. “Let’s take the fucking subway.”
Ella giggled at my change in attitude. We walked, hand-in-hand, to University Station.
* * * *
Something woke me, but I couldn’t pinpoint what. I kept my eyes closed, hoping my body would settle back into sleep. My head was throbbing. Getting drunk with my eighteen-year-old sister had been a bad idea. Getting drunk had been a bad idea. I seemed to be full of them as of late.
We’d started the night off with Spaceballs, eating pizza, sipping wine. By the time we’d finished Dumb and Dumber and started Bridesmaids, we were hammered. I couldn’t figure out which button to push to “make the movie go!” So, we ate gummy bears and danced, screaming our heads off like maniacs. I owed my neighbors an apology.
Something cool tickled my neck. I swallowed, but the necklace didn’t shift.
Wait.
I threw the necklace off two days ago.
“Aw, topolina is finally awake.”
I attempted to sit up, but a sharp pain bit at my throat. I opened my eyes, taking in my surroundings.
Luca Nicoletti’s niece hovered over me, holding a blade to my skin. She looked pale and skeletal, her red lips thin. It was the beginning of August, but she wore all black, including a lightweight trench coat.
Was I having a nightmare? How had Amara gotten into my apartment? I always locked the door. I was drunk, but not that drunk.
“There’s a blonde girl asleep on your couch.” Amara inclined her head toward my closed bedroom door. “Is she your sister?”
“Don’t hurt her,” I whispered, but it wasn’t a plea—it was a demand. I could guess why Amara was here, but this had nothing to do with Ella. If Amara tried to harm my little sister, I’d launch myself onto the bitch, knife be damned.
“You know,” Amara conversed, “for the Upper West Side, your building’s security is pretty lax. It wasn’t difficult to pick the lock.”
“Congratulations,” I bit back. My heart raced, but I kept my tone low. “Now, what the hell do you want?”
“My uncle has decided he wants to see his grandson’s letter for himself. You have three days to get him the evidence.” Amara twirled her braid with her free hand, that stupid butterfly barrette resting on her bony shoulder. “A little generous, in my opinion. I would’ve given you all of three seconds. But like I said, soft spot and all…”
Tears sprang to my eyes, but I blinked them back. I knew this day would come and I’d done nothing to prepare myself.
“You are to meet us after sundown on Tuesday at this address.” She slipped a piece of paper into my hand, her blade nicking my throat. “And come alone.”
I said nothing, letting the anger in my heart fester.
“Personally, I can’t wait for you to show up empty-handed.” Her laugh was laced with scorn at the mere idea. “I hope Don Luca makes your death a slow one. It’ll be a pleasure to watch.”
