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“You trade in people, right? Do you really think I am so oblivious that I didn’t know that?” She braces her hands on the counter and leans into me. I get the sudden, distinct impression that I’m being interrogated, and I don’t like it. But this is Elaine. I have known her for almost my whole life. She’s more a mother to me than my own had been.
I grip the mug so hard in my hands it’s a wonder it doesn’t shatter and paint my kitchen in tepid coffee. My voice is terse, my jaw tight as I glance around to make sure we are well and truly alone. “I don’t trade in people, Elaine. I’m a glorified bookkeeper for the ones who do, and I do what I can to make things right.”
“I used to believe that.” She purses her lips, her stony eyes darting over me. “But now I’m not so sure.”
“Elaine.” I try not to let the hurt seep into my voice, but it’s a pain that cuts deep. “You think I would really do that? You’ve known me forever.”
A shrug of her shoulders proves that it isn’t outside the realm of possibility in her opinion. “If I’ve learned anything in my life, it’s that you never really know anyone.”
“What’s going on with you?” I demand, studying her face like the reason for her suspicion is written there. “You’ve never doubted me before, but the last few days you’ve treated me like a criminal.”
“Because you are!” She snaps. “You brought that girl here and you put her in the line of fire. I am sorry if the truth hurts, Remy, but she’s an innocent and now you’ve got her tangled up in your mess.” She wipes her hands on the towel hanging on the stove and shakes her head. “I want to believe you had nothing to do with it, that it was all Jovich. But I don’t know.”
“What’s going on?” The new addition to our conversation has me tensing, but I play it off when I turn to find my sister. Rhea stands with her hands on her hips, her gaze flickering between me and my suddenly distrustful housekeeper. “It’s too early for all this yelling.”
“Early?” Elaine laughs, her stony disposition gone as if it had never been there at all. “It’s almost lunch time.”
“Brunch?” Rhea grins hopefully. “I need to start drinking now if I’m expected to make it through the funeral tonight.”
The funeral.
Shit.
I bristle at the realization that everything that has happened lately has pushed all thoughts of my father and the reason that the girls are even here from my mind.
“I think I could whip something up. You just relax, I’ll start a fresh pot of coffee.”
Elaine is either oblivious or good at ignoring my critical gaze as I all but stare a hole in the back of her neck. Rhea notices, though. She nudges me in the arm with her shoulder, and I turn my angry eyes on her. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” I growl, standing up and grabbing my miserable excuse for coffee.
“He woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” Elaine supplies, glancing over her shoulder at me.
“Well, at least he woke up. Claire’s usually an early bird. Is she seriously still sleeping?” She’s trying to sound bright and sunny, her usual self, but I can hear the undercurrent of nervousness in her words… concern for her friend.
I freeze, turning to face my sister. “Are you asking me or telling me?”
Rhea’s face crumbles into a mask of annoyance. “I’m asking, obviously, since you’ve kept her in your room like some sort of puppy you rescued from the pound. Is she still asleep?”
“She went to her room last night.” I say, turning to go again. “I guess I’ll go check on her.”
“I’ll go.” Rhea stands to push past me. “I’m her best friend. If she wants to see anyone, it would be me, not you.”
I hold my tongue; Rhea is probably right. After last night, I’m not so sure Claire wants to see me ever again. Our connection had been frantic, punch-drunk, and passionate. It was also fucking perfect. But maybe she doesn’t see it the same way I do. “Fine.” I set my coffee back down on the counter. “I’m going to go check the dock for damages from the storm.”
“Check your brain, too.” Rhea quips. When I turn back to glare at her, she’s laughing. It fades away when she sees the unamused expression on my face. “Damn, Rem. It was a joke.” She glances at Elaine with unveiled annoyance, but I don’t stick around to hear the rest of their conversation. I’m nearly at the front door when she calls after me, “I think you need to get laid!”
I ignore her and let the door slam shut behind me, letting my house swallow them all.
Rhea is wrong. I don’t need to get laid.
I just need to have a little fun.
Chapter four
Claire
I’m not dreaming. I’m not sure I’m even sleeping. But the knock on the door doesn’t sound real… it’s distant, foggy, like it came from across space and time to reach me. I try to peel my eyes open, but the darkness remains.
