Page 9 of Devil’s Snare

“This is good,” Ethan announced after picking up a triangle and taking a bite, cheese oozing out the side.

“Yeah,” I agreed as I ate one too, devouring it as I realized I was starving. I gobbled it down and managed a couple of sips of coffee before reaching for the fries.

“I didn’t eat all day,” he admitted. “Couldn’t.”

“Me either,” I confessed, dunking another fry in ranch before popping it into my mouth. “Is that why this tastes so amazing right now?”

“Gotta be, G.”

We ate in silence after that, finishing off all the food. When only the coffee was left, we both sat back, holding our mugs. The heat warmed my chilled fingers. This would have been nice if not for the fact that we met here because of our dead sister.

The diner was empty except for the staff and us, and since this place was open twenty-four hours a day, I didn’t worry that we were keeping anyone from going home.

This diner had been around since before our parents were born, and it had an old, homey feel to it. The dark red seats were worn but comfortable. The lighting dim but cozy. Simple décor. Great food. Music that mostly played hits from the seventies, eighties, and nineties. Not too loud either.

“I took the week off work.”

My brother graduated from college two years ago with a degree in nuclear physics and engineering. He got hired right after and worked for a consulting firm that handled high-profile clients. He made seriously good money.

“I’m proud of you, Ethan. I don’t know if I ever told you that.”

He arched a dark brow. “I’m sure you did.”

“Well, if I didn’t, I’m telling you now. You’re smart, successful, and you should pay for the food.”

He smirked. “I thought that was coming.”

“Hey, I don’t have your bank account. I need to rely on your generous nature.”

He saw my attempt at humor for what it was and didn’t call me out on it. Neither of us needed to talk about all the sad and dark shit weighing us down or the reasons we didn’t speak to our parents much, especially after dad showed up to the funeral reception drunk. Mom screeching at him in front of everyone didn’t help.

We suffered enough loss and heartache without rehashing any of the drama.

“I should follow you home. You always get weird and loopy when you’re sleepy.”

“I appreciate it, little brother.”

Ethan paid the check once we finished our coffees. Once I slid from the booth, he slid an arm around my shoulders and guided me toward the exit. “You need me, call.”

“Anytime, day or night,” I promised. I knew the drill.

“Love you, G.”

“Love you too.”

After a hug that felt a little too tight, we parted.

My brother followed me home, just as he promised. He didn’t pull away from my apartment building until I waved from inside the lobby. You had to have a key card to enter, so I felt safe here. Still, it was nice to see the security guy at the desk. He waved as I approached the elevator, and I waved back before riding up to the fifth floor. I yanked off my sweatshirt as I reached my apartment, growing warm inside the building.

My key got stuck in the door as I opened it, and I tripped, banging my foot into the corner of the wood. “Ouch! Shit!” I cursed as I shut and locked it, doused in darkness because I forgot to turn on any lights before I left. To say I was distracted after burying Becka was an understatement.

Just as I sighed, one of the lamps in my living room flicked on. I screeched as I held up my purse, ready to use it as a weapon.

“You really should invest in a security system, Bambi. It’s far too easy to break in.”

I blinked at Cin, staring at him with equal parts shock and annoyance. Not only did he break in, but he didn’t have the decency to make an excuse. “What are you doing here?”

He gestured to my purse. “Planning to clobber me with that?”