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I’m just glad she’s making the coffee these days. You guys always did suck at it.
I was silent as Galen and Ezra allowed the meaning to crystallize. They looked at each other first. Galen narrowed his gaze on Ezra, who gave a tiny shake of his head. They looked at me, and I cut my eyes over to Baron.
He shrugged, a sheepish hint of a smile playing about his lips.
They spoke as one. “You asshole!”
I punched Baron on the arm. “That was your big reveal? Profound!”
He grabbed me playfully and smacked my mouth with a kiss. “We don’t need profound. We have you.”
Galen left, shaking his head, to grab the mail, while Ezra peppered Baron with questions about being Casanova.
Ezra pinched his lips together. “Why did you do it?”
“It was a thesis project.”
“What was it like, knowing everyone’s sexy secrets?”
Baron shook his head. “It was part of my thesis, you idiot. For the most part, it was boring. The only really sexy secrets were ours.”
“So, you didn’t get any really juicy texts?”Silence.“Well?”Silence.“Jerk. Do you think you’re some kind of romance guru now?”
Baron laughed at that. “That’s a no.”
“Oh, I think you’re very romantic,” I said with a wink.
Galen returned a short while later and tossed the mail on the counter. “What do you guys think about going to pick Eleanor up and going out to dinner?”
There was a chorus of yeses, but I didn’t reply, my attention riveted on a plain manila envelope with my name scrawled across it. No stamp. No postmark. Someone had placed the envelope in my mailbox without sending it through the post office.
“Jude?” Galen was looking at me, a line of concern slashed through his forehead.
Slowly, I slid my finger beneath the flap and opened the envelope, allowing its contents to spill out. A post-it note, stuck to the back of a photo, read only “you’re next.”
A chill swept through me, raising gooseflesh on my arms. Stomach in knots, I flipped the picture over. It was Eleanor and me, huddling together in joint sorrow at our mother’s grave.
I dropped the photo and backed away from the counter, bumping against Ezra’s chest. His arms came around me. Galen picked the picture up and showed it to Baron before dropping it back to the counter.
“I-I-I don’t understand,” I stammered. “What does this even mean?” I shied away from the obvious connection. Someone had taken the photo at my mother’s grave. Were they watching the grave, or Eleanor, or me, or all three? “What do they mean by ‘you’re next’? Is this about my mom?” I looked from one face to the next, each as bewildered and angry as the next.
Baron slid the photo back into the envelope. “I don’t know. But we’ll figure it out. And until we do, there will be security on you and Eleanor.”
“Security?”
His face was grim, the set of his mouth resolute. “You’re damn straight. And you need to quit Sugar Babes. I am not going to fuck around with your safety, Jude.”
“But—”
“Don’t argue,” Ezra added, tightening his hold on me.
Angry tears filled my eyes and I swatted at them angrily. “I can’t quit my job! And I don’t want strangers watching me, following me—”
“How about Eleanor? Do you want security on your sister?” Baron asked in a reasonable tone that set my teeth on edge.
“Well, yes, but—”
“No buts.” It was Galen. “You know your father was into some bad shit with some bad people, Jude. It’s not a stretch to deduce they think you know something...have something...I don’t know. Maybe they just want revenge and figure your family is the best way to get to your father.”
