“Probably,” he agrees, equally stationary.
“Oh!” comes Madison’s startled voice from across the room. “Sorry, I’ll go.”
I stumble away from Thorne and turn to my sister. “No, come in. Swim laps with us.”
Thorne heads toward the latter. “You two enjoy, I have a meeting at seven-thirty.”
“Same time tomorrow?” I ask as he reaches for his towel.
No. No. Time alone with him isn’t a good idea. I face Madison. “You can join us.”
She looks at Thorne, waiting to see what he’ll say. And I swear, if it’s something even slightly shitty, I don’t care how good he looks in his swim trunks, he’s going from a ten to a three. Yes, it should be one, but the man looks really good wet.
“Sure. It’ll be fun to kick your ass in a race too.” He doesn’t smile, but I see he’s fighting it when he glances at me.
“It was a tie, Thorne.”
His parting shrug says, “if you say so.”
Madison slides into the water, her eyes following the door where Thorne just exited. She turns to me with a thoughtful expression that seems too calculating for a fourteen-year-old.
"He's actually nice to you," she observes, studying me. She dips under water and resurfaces with slicked-back hair. "He's never like that with me. With you, he's almost human."
She studies my reaction with those sharp eyes that miss nothing. Something is brewing behind that innocent look.It's the same expression she wore right before dropping her blackmailing bomb.
"What?" I ask, suddenly wary.
"Nothing." Her smile is all innocence, but her eyes gleam with mischief. "Just thinking how nice it is that you and Thorne get along now."
The way she says it makes my stomach drop. Whatever she's plotting, I have a feeling I'm not going to like it. And judging by that scheming little smile, Thorne might be in trouble too.
Chapter Ten
Thorne
The rain has been relentless for three days straight. I'm leaving the kitchen with my second cup of coffee, headed toward my office on the third floor, when Madison's voice carries from the living room. It’s loud enough that I'm certain she wants me to hear.
"If I have to spend one more day cooped up in this house, I'm going to lose my mind."
I should keep walking. Her boredom isn't my problem. But I pause in the hallway. Maybe it's the echo of my own restlessness after three days of being trapped inside that stops me. Or maybe I'm hoping to see Ivy. Or maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment.
Whatever the reason, I change course, stopping in the doorway of the living room. Madison is sprawled dramatically across the leather couch. Through the window behind her, water cascades off the slate roof, creating a curtain between the house and the rest of the world. Not that we've ventured beyond the estate since we brought the blackmailer here.
"I've read every book I brought with me. Twice," she continues, clearly aware I'm there now but not looking at me.
I lean against the doorframe, coffee in hand. "You're welcome to find entertainment elsewhere."
"Where, exactly?" she asks, the edge in her voice sounding too much like our father. "Since I'm basically a prisoner here. You won't let me go anywhere."
“I’ll let you go to New York,” I remind her.
Madison glares at me. As if I care.
“Thorne,” Ivy warns from where she’s curled up in the wingback chair, laptop balanced on her knees. She’s more of a workaholic than I am, and has been working since finishing our pre-dawn swim—something that has become our routine since she interrupted mine almost a week ago.
I turn, meeting her disapproving gaze with a shrug. It's not my job to make the kid comfortable. It’s my job to keep her quiet until we fix my father’s mess and get rid of her.
“My friend is going with a group to the movies,” Madison says, sitting up.
