Page 20 of Dead of Wynter


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How could they have known the nickname I call Wynter if someone hadn’t told them?

I sigh and close the lid of the laptop, at least the task allowed me to calm down, and it would have given Wynter time to do the same. I stand from where I’m sitting on the lounge and head up the stairs in search for her, only to meet the eyes of a very panicked Storm as he rushes down the hallway.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Wynter’s gone. She talked her way out of the estate and then slipped her security. I have no fucking idea where she is.” I’ve never heard him sound so worried, even in the midst of chaos Storm is calm, but at the idea of his sister being missing, he’s panicking.

“What do you mean, she talked her way out?” I growl. “I explicitly told everyone working at the gate that she is not to leave this estate, or even go near the gate for that matter. Why the fuck would they let her out?”

“She told Carl I said it was okay, and then I missed a call from him while I was talking to Tommy.” He drags his hands through his hair roughly. “Fuck,” he shouts.

I’m back at my laptop a moment later, tapping into the trackers I have in her phone, handbag and every pair of shoes she owns. When I placed them there it was with the intention to only use them in moments such as these, but I’m guilty of checking them from time to time just to keep tabs on her.

“What are you doing?” Storm asks as he crosses the room to sit beside me.

“Tracking her.”

“You put trackers on my sister?” He raises an eyebrow.

I nod. “Don’t waste your breath, my foresight might save her life.”

Storm shakes his head and huffs out a laugh. “If you were anyone else, I would kick your ass for stalking my sister.”

I roll my eyes and focus on the map in front of me. “She’s at Amber’s.”

“Is that one of her friends? I’ve never heard her talk about a Amber.”

“No, it’s a bar she goes to sometimes.” I let out a breath. If she’s there she’s probably safe. I’ve been in there a few times to make sure it was safe for her, and the place has decent security and the owner seems to have taken a shine to Wynter from the first time they met.

“I’ll grab my stuff and come with you.” Storm stands and starts toward the stairs.

“It’s fine. I’ll go on my own.” I barely stop myself from telling him he shouldn’t come unless he wants to see me spank his sister so hard she won’t sit for a week for pulling a stunt like this.

Storm laughs. “Lord help her.”

Half an hour later, Steve is pulling up to the curb outside Amber’s. This place has been around since the eighties and I understand why Wynter loves it so much. It’s retro but in a classy way, the dark brick building fits seamlessly with the apartment buildings on this street, and the inside is warm and homely.

“I won’t be long,” I tell my driver. I didn’t want to bring anyone along, but Storm insisted. It should only take a few moments to throw her over my shoulder and cart her back to the estate to tie her to the bed where she won’t be able to escape again. I’m barely controlling the anger simmering under my skin. How could she be so fucking stupid. My entire family threatened her yesterday, at her parents’ funeral who they murdered, and she thinks it’s a great idea to gallivant around the city unprotected?

I push the doors open but the moment my eyes connect with Wynter I’m stopped in my tracks. She’s sitting at a small table on the other side of the bar, her head thrown back laughing at something the guy she’s with said. I’ve never seen her with him before, his thick beard and long hair don’t ring any bells, but the way he reaches across the table to brush the hair out of her face makes me want to snap his arm in half. No one touches what belongs to me.

But instead I wait. I take a seat at the far end of the bar, order a drink and watch as my woman laughs and flirts with this nameless man. I haven’t seen her smile like this since the night before I left.

She takes a sip of whatever she’s drinking as the guy tells her a story animatedly, and when she laughs she almost spits her drink across the table. It’s all I can do to drag my eyes away from Wynter and focus on the man who has captured her attention.

She hasn’t shown much interest in men since I ran off the first few when she came home from college. It didn’t take much, a few well-placed threats, and they were giving up the best thing to happen to them just the same as I did.

Nothing I’ve ever done was as contradictory as that. I couldn’t have her so no one could. But the idea of another man with his hands on Wynter made me homicidal, and that was a mess I didn’t want to bring down on the Saint James family.

The guy stands and quickly squeezes her shoulder as he disappears down the hallway behind the bar. It’s my time to get her the fuck out of here. I throw a wad of cash on the bar to pay for our drinks and a tip for the scene I’m about to cause before crossing the bar and sitting in the seat the guy left vacant.

“Dove,” I growl.

Wynter’s eyes widen as she stares at me blankly. “How the fuck did you find me?”

“I put trackers on all your shit years ago,” I tell her honestly. “Worked out pretty well for me today when your brother was losing his mind with fucking worry. How could you do this?” My words are harsh, but she needs to understand how angry we are. What she’s done is stupid, irresponsible, and more than anything, selfish, and that’s something I’ve never known Wynter to be.

Her face pales as she breaks eye contact in favor of staring at her drink. “I don’t have to justify anything to you. And what the fuck do you mean you put trackers on me?”

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