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“I know,” I replied, the raspy undertone of my voice bouncing off the stillness of the quiet morning. I couldn’t tell her it wasn’t her fault, because she wouldn’t have listened, wouldn’t have believed it.
As Avery’s words rang in the air, I wasn’t surprised. No, not really. The sister bond between Avery and Clover was something sacred, unbreakable. Of course Clover would’ve confided in her.
A bitter taste lined the back of my mouth as I understood the weight of my own decisions. Every choice I made was now entwined with Clover’s life, Avery’s life, and all the countless threads that wove their world together.
“I take it she told you everything?” I asked, my tone laced with an understanding that came from knowing the bond of family, of blood.
Avery nodded, her eyes never leaving mine. “She did.”
I felt a gnawing pit in my stomach as I warned her, “You understand, Avery, that no one else can know?”
She looked at me, eyes flinty, resolve steeling her face. “You think I’d do anything to hurt Clover? I might not like you, Declan, but I won’t jeopardize my sister. She’s all I have.”
“I know. And I won’t hurt her either. In fact, I’m here to talk to both of you,” I replied.
Avery hesitated, the muscles in her jaw twitching with the conflict that brewed on her face. After a beat, she moved aside, gesturing with a tilt of her head for me to enter.
Inside, I found Clover at the kitchen table. Her eyes were trained on a pile of crumpled papers—bills, invoices, numbers that told a story of struggle and hardship. Her fingers anxiously bit at the nails of her free hand, each harsh nibble hissing in the room’s silence.
She looked up as I walked in, her eyes wide and startled, like a deer caught in a headlight. I took in the dark circles under her eyes, the lines of worry etched into her face, and a surge of anger rose in me. This was no way for her to live.
“Evening, Clover,” I said, trying to keep my tone neutral.
She seemed to snap out of her reverie, blinking at me before giving a weak nod.
“We need to talk,” I began, my fixed stare switching between the sisters. My fingers brushed over the ring in my pocket. This wasn’t the time for that. Not yet. “There’s a rodeo event coming up. Avery, you’re expected to be there.”
Avery raised her eyebrows but didn’t argue. Clover looked back down at the pile of bills, a slight frown creasing her forehead. I knew that look—she was calculating, figuring, worrying. I needed to get her out of that, and fast.
This was the first step. Everything that needed to happen, would. I’d ensure it. For her.
Clover’s eyes met mine, a hint of fear fluttering in their depths. “I . . . I don’t know, Declan. The rodeo . . . it just feels too soon. I’m worried about Avery going out there.”
I gave her a steady look, the importance of my words settling into the room like a heavy fog. “Clover, we need to make sure everything seems normal. The Devils can’t know you’re aware of what happened . . . not yet.”
Avery, who had been silent, piped up then, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve wanted this for a long time, Clover. To get on the back of a bull . . . It’s been my dream. If I cancel now, it will look suspicious.”
I nodded, my gaze still locked on Clover. It was crucial that she understood this. We were in uncertain territory now, walking a thin line. The slightest misstep could have dire consequences. For all of us.
Clover seemed resigned, but she nodded in agreement nonetheless. As Avery excused herself, presumably to get ready for the upcoming rodeo, I found myself alone with Clover.
“You’re not as feisty as usual,” I said, approaching her cautiously. I had expected her to order me out of her house, like she had before. Instead, she just scowled, and there was something off about her response.
“There’s no point kicking you out. You’ll just appear anyway,” she shot back, her words carrying an edge.
I smirked at her retort, but something was nagging at me, a feeling that she was hiding something. I decided to push a bit further. “How are you doing, Clover?”
“I’m . . . just focused on some work that’s piled up,” she replied, her eyes skirting away from mine.
I wasn’t convinced. I reached out, taking her hand in mine and giving it a reassuring squeeze. I leaned forward, my eyes locking onto hers. “How are you really doing, Clover?” I asked, my voice soft but firm. This time, I was looking for the truth.
Her glare hardened and then her palm came crashing down onto the table, a loud thud that sliced through the tense silence. “I’m not okay, Declan,” she burst out, her voice a trembling mixture of anger and fear. “Something fucking terrible happened to me. I knocked on your door because I was looking for safety. But instead, I found a killer.”
Her words cut me, but I kept my face impassive, letting her vent out her pent-up frustrations.
“Now, I’m an accomplice to murder. I’m dancing this fine line with the Devils,” she continued, her voice wavering. “My sister, Laura . . . they’re all involved—”
“Does Laura know?” I interrupted, my heart hammering in my chest. Shit. I didn’t think she’d involve anyone else. I’d made a mess of things, and Clover was stuck in the middle of it all.
