Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 68538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Their support meant the world to me, and I was happy to be hanging out with them.
Though, I had a feeling their reasons for being there were multifaceted.
One, I knew they didn’t want me to be alone after everything that had gone down yesterday.
Two, Scott’s text message—though we couldn’t confirm it was him—had scared everyone, and they hadn’t wanted me to be here with no support.
Nothing against Pepper and all, but I would much rather someone who had experience to deal with a conflict like Scott.
Three, they wanted to show their support of Auden’s new girlfriend.
“What are y’all’s plans for the rest of the day?” Hollis asked. “With Quincy home today and tomorrow, he’s hanging with Dalia, so it gives me plenty of time to go get a pedicure.”
“I haven’t had one of those in months,” Ellodie said, looking tired all of a sudden. “Yesterday we all went to visit Costas. And you know how the drive to see my brother can be.”
“How was he?” Garnett asked. “I meant to ask yesterday but…”
But shit had gone down, and she hadn’t had time.
Freakin’ Brock Austin.
It still sounded so weird to call him that.
For what felt like my entire life, he was my father.
Speaking of…
“I have to go the FBI offices in Dallas today,” I said. “They’re questioning Brock, and I want to be there to hear what he has to say.”
An ambulance rushed past the bakery hell bent for leather, and I followed it with my eyes, a weird feeling overcoming me.
“That sounds…”
I heard Ellodie talking, but her words didn’t compute in my brain.
A niggling feeling that something was wrong started to overtake me, and I reached into my apron pocket for my phone.
No messages.
I opened it, then hit dial on Auden’s number.
It rang twice before someone picked up.
And that someone wasn’t anyone I expected to answer.
“Hello, sister.”
Terror unlike anything I’d ever felt started to rush through me.
“Scott,” I said. “What are you doing with Auden’s phone?”
I had the attention of the entire room when I said those last few words.
Garnett’s phone was placed to her ear a moment later, and she was talking to someone quietly.
Ellodie, Hollis, and Shayne did much the same.
Pepper stared with wide, terrified eyes.
“I’m just visiting with him, you know,” he sing-songed.
“Scott,” I said carefully, trying not to let my emotions get the better of me. “Whatever you’ve done, it’s not too late to leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Scott said. “I’m having a discussion, that’s all.”
I looked at Garnett to see her leaving the building.
I wanted to follow her so badly, but again, I wasn’t dumb. I knew my limits.
If staying here would keep me safer and out of the way, with less people worrying about me, then here was where I would stay.
“What kind of discussion would you need to have with Auden?” I asked. “You should have a discussion with me.”
“There’s no reason to discuss anything with you,” he said. “You’re not even my sister, I hear.”
No, no I wasn’t.
“That is exactly right,” I said. “So why are you there? I shouldn’t matter to you anymore.”
Scott chuckled. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe retribution. I have a feeling Auden played a part in what happened to Dad.”
I gritted my teeth. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” His chuckle was dark.
It sent shivers down my spine.
“Don’t do this,” I pleaded.
I felt Ellodie’s hand on my shoulder. Shayne moved in close.
Pepper was now on the phone with who I guessed was 911.
And Hollis was on the phone with someone still.
Hopefully Quincy.
“Too late,” he said. “Too. Fucking. Late.”
Then he hung up.
I was hyperventilating when the door of my bakery opened.
I hated to seem unwelcoming, but I was not in a good place.
“We’re closed,” I barked.
I only looked up when the door didn’t ding, announcing their exit.
My breath caught in my throat as I stared in awe at the man at my door.
Dima.
And with him, Dorsey.
Last night, I’d studied the faces of my siblings.
I’d committed each one of their faces, and everything there was to know about them, to memory.
I knew their birthdates. I knew their favorite foods. I knew their eye colors. I knew which schools they graduated both college and high school from. I knew their grades. I knew their first cars.
Hell, I even knew their middle names.
And there was no doubt in my mind who the man standing in front of me was: Dima Major Semyonov.
My older brother.
“What’s going on?” he asked, voice low and scary.
Oh, and I forgot to mention: he was an ex-con.
Not to brag, but I was alive when you could slam the phone down to hang up on someone. It was spectacular.
—Auden to Athena
AUDEN
I didn’t expect the trigger of the gun to be pulled the moment our eyes locked.
Nor did I expect the way a gunshot would hurt.
I mean, yeah, logically, I fully expected it would hurt to be shot.