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He winks, throwing me into his car. “I like your fire, bimba. Keep that for tonight. I’ll enjoy it more then.”
33
BRIAR
Staring at my phone, my left foot taps incessantly. The little dot blinks as it crosses town, getting closer to her family’s home.
I don’t fucking like this. I don’t want to be separated from her, but I certainly don’t want her anywhere near that house. But, like, fuck, could I tell her no? Whatever she wants, I’d make happen, even if it kills me on the inside.
This is her decision—her battle. I respect that. I sure as hell don’t like it.
“Focus,” Maeve barks, leaning next to me. We’re both dressed in black clothing, her old leather jacket out of retirement. I remember it being bigger on her. “We only get one shot.”
“I am focused,” I snap, shoving the phone back into my pocket.
“Right,” she drawls. Looking up at the darkening sky, she exhales. “Did she make it?”
“She’s on her way now.”
Maeve nods, crossing her arms. “Once this is over, we’ll check on her.”
She’s trying to be helpful—but the dread doesn’t lessen with her words. My wife is back in that house that treated her like a vase: breakable, priceless, and nothing but an item to be displayed. They ignored her needs and disregarded her comfort to benefit themselves.
And if Scipione finds her—
“Breathe,” she instructs. “You’re of no help to her if you pass out before this ends. Do you have it?”
I hold the amber bottle in my hand. It’s not more than a few inches, small enough to fit into my jean pocket. “This was a bitch to get.”
“Tell your friend in Florida thank you for me.”
“She’s going to want more than a thank you.” She’ll want a few grand for this special concoction. Relying on a known serial killer with a thing for poisons was not on my bingo card for this year, but, hey.
Leaning against the wall of Mass General Hospital, an ambulance shoots past us. The noise rings in my ears, but my sister doesn’t flinch. As it stops, silence descends, and we wait.
Except I don’t do very well with silence.
“Have you been sleeping?”
She jerks, surprised by the question. Giving me a quick look, she hums, shrugging.
“Same as always.”
“You need to sleep more,” I remind her. “Drink chamomile tea at night. Add some lavender; it could help relax you—”
“Briar.” She sighs, rolling her eyes. “Now isn’t the time to worry about my sleeping habits.”
“What about eating?” I frown, looking at her body. She’s thinner. “Killian said you were eating, but I don’t believe it.”
“Jesus Christ,” she murmurs, pinching her brow.
“And Collins? How’s she and mirrors doing?”
She huffs out a breath. “She hasn’t broken any lately, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“And Sloane?”
“She’s sober,” she says, cutting me a hard look. “Has been since she got pregnant. We’re all fine.” She turns away from me, watching the street. “Can we focus on you now? Or do you need to know about any other health issues?”
