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The bedroom doorshuts behind Sam, and a shudder wracks my body.
My mother used to say it meant someone was dancing over your grave.
That voice.
That was his voice—George’s voice. There’s no way I could forget his voice.
But it can’t be. I mean, how could it be? Why could it be? I must be wrong.
Aren’t I?
Why would George be calling Sam?
He told me to cut ties. That it was the only way to keep us all safe. I did it. As hard as it was to leave the only people I had left in the world, I did it. I never looked back. I never called, no matter how much I wanted to. I did what he told me to do.
Can it really be him calling now?
Maybe I’m crazy.
It’s been years since I’ve heard his voice, so maybe it just sounded like him. Maybe I just need to crawl back in bed, wrap myself up in sheets that smell like Sam, and go back to sleep.
After deciding sleep is the way to go, I climb back in bed and close my eyes, hoping when I wake up, Sam will be home and ready to explain what the hell just happened.
* * *
A loud banging nearby stirs me from sleep. My hand slides across the cool sheets to Sam’s side of the bed, but it’s empty. The events of the morning begin to trickle back into my mind. I groan and cover my head with the pillow. He’s not back yet, and staying right here in this bed until he gets back sounds like the perfect way to spend this day.
The light peeking through the curtains makes me think that I haven’t been asleep for long. I bet I could get a few more hours in if that incessant knocking would just stop.
“Come on, Amelia.” Ugh. It’s Bash. “We drove over here in a foot of snow so you wouldn’t be stuck in this house alone all day. The least you can do is come downstairs so we can be alone together.”
What the heck is Sebastian doing here?
“Go away, Bash. I’m trying to sleep.”
He knocks again. “No can do. Sammy asked me to come over and keep you company. And I’m not in a position to piss off my brother right now.”
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and take a moment to fully wake up. Padding across the floor, I open the door just as Bash’s hand raises to knock again. “Why are you raging against my door, Sebastian?”
He leans against the door frame and crosses his arms over that broad Beneventi chest both of these brothers share. “Your door? When did it become your door?”
“Whatever.” I walk through the door and push by him, deciding I could use some ibuprofen and something to drink. “I meant Sam’s door, boy genius. I’m half asleep and wasn’t prepared to get the third degree over one word.”
Taking the rubber band from my wrist, I throw my hair up in a ponytail and head down the stairs with Sebastian on my heels. “Hold up, Amelia.”
“Cut me a break, Bash. It’s been a weird morning, and I need something for this headache and a glass of water before you can expect me to be fit to spar with you.” The Beneventi boys love to rile me up, but they’re both so damn smart, I need to always bring my A-game. And I’m pretty sure my A-game went into hiding after a few too many glasses of wine last night, my complete lack of sleep, and this weird-as-hell morning.
However, when I come to a stop at the bottom of the steps, I rethink my decision to get out of bed, ignoring Sebastian.
Because standing there, staring back at me, is Eleanor Kingston.
My sister.
This morning just got a whole lot weirder and definitely more complicated.
I turn and look behind me to make sure Sebastian knows how fortunate he is that I left my gun upstairs.
Because I’m going to kill him.
