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“This is why she’s my favorite sister.” I wink at Snow before crossing to the coffee pot. I may have slept through the night, but I still need coffee to function, I’m not an animal.
Storm and Everett are missing, probably in the office strategizing. That’s where they spend most of their time. Everett on his laptop tracking every Russo movement, and Storm on the phone trying to get a lead. It’s not ideal, but it’s working. The sooner we get a lead, the sooner we can get the fuck out of this house before one of us kills someone.
A knock at the door startles me even though realistically it shouldn’t. No one gets past security without express permission, so I carefully place my coffee on the counter and head to the door, only barely sparing a thought for the sweatpants and sweater I threw on before coming downstairs. Security around here has seen all of us in worse, it’s too late to start being modest now.
I swing the door open and find one of the front gate security guards on the doorstep holding a box. “Miss Saint James, this was just delivered for you.” Carl extends his arms, the small, unmarked package crossing the threshold of the door.
“Oh, thank you for bringing it up. I could have come down to grab it during my run though.” I smile and take the box from him.
Carl has worked for my family for as long as I can remember and is one of the nicest men I’ve ever known. If I had to hazard a guess, I would say he’s in his late sixties, married with a bunch of grandbabies he dotes on. When I’m here, I often stop by the security booth just to catch up on all the family gossip.
“Mr. Saint James said he didn’t want any of you ladies that close to the gate.”
I sigh. “Of course he did. Well, thank you again. And please call me Wynter.”
He cracks a smile. “Of course, Wynter.” By the next time we speak, he will be calling me Miss Saint James again. It doesn’t matter how many times I ask, he always reverts back to the formality that has always made me uncomfortable.
I close the door and lean against it for a moment, staring at the box in my arms. The fact it’s unmarked apart from my name scrawled across the top is a little disconcerting.
“Who was at the door?” Everett’s voice startles me.
I can’t for the life of me work out why I’m so jumpy today, perhaps sleep is so foreign to my body that it’s had the opposite effect on me to everyone else.
“Carl. Something was delivered for me,” I tell him, unable to meet his eyes after what we shared last night.
Everett takes long strides until he’s just a few feet away, but it’s the box that he’s focused on with his brow furrowed. “Give me the box,” he says in a low voice.
“What? Why?”
“Just do as you're told for once, Wynter,” he snaps.
I look down and understanding dawns on me. There could be anything in this thing. Literally anything. A bomb. A body part. Anthrax. I hold the box out to him carefully, my hands suddenly shaking with fear. We’ve always lived our lives with a certain level of danger, but I forget that it’s amplified now we’re at war.
Everett takes the box from me and takes off down the hallway toward the office Storm is using, and I can’t help but trail after him. If someone has threatened me, I want to know about it. He places it down on the old mahogany desk in front of Storm.
“Why the fuck would your security bring an unmarked package to the front door while we’re at war?” he roars. “It could be a fucking bomb and it could have blown up the second Wynter got her hands on it.”
I flinch at the anger in his voice more so than his words. I’ve never seen him with such barely controlled rage.
Storm stares at the box for a few moments, as if deciding what may be in it. The likelihood of it being a bomb is very low. The war we’re in with the Russos will be slow like a chess game and bombing your enemy in their home is the opposite of controlled.
“Wynter, get out,” Everett growls, not even bothering to look up at where I’m standing in the doorway.
“Excuse me?”
“I said get out.” The softness he showed last night is all but gone now, leaving behind the cold, hard man I’ve only ever heard about. He’s never spoken to me like this, never been so abrupt with me, and I can’t help but think maybe he’s changed his mind, maybe last night was a mistake to him.
“No.”
His deep blue eyes shoot up to meet mine, fire brewing in the pools. “Come again?”
“I said no. That box is addressed to me. I want to know what’s in it.”
Everett stalks across the room before placing both hands on my hips, pushing me until I’m backed against the wall in the hallway, his body pressing into me roughly. “I swear to God, Wynter, if you don’t stay out of this room while we make sure this isn’t going to kill you, I’m going to tie you to your fucking bed where nothing and no one can hurt you.”
“Everett,” I whisper, my voice wavering with a mixture of fear and arousal building deep within me.
“Don’t argue with me about this. If there is one thing that I will not bend on, it’s your safety. Now go anywhere in this house except for this room or I swear to God you won’t like the consequences.”
