Dark Notes

He stabs the shovel through the mulch and starts the hole. “Not in New Orleans.”

If I press, he’ll likely lie about his location. He said he flew in. Maybe that will help the PI track him this time.

I sit on the bench and take in his receding blond hair, pale complexion, and the stupidity emanating from his dull eyes. Hard to believe he’s related to Ivory.

With a deep breath, I rest my elbows on my spread knees. “Tell me how this came about.”

Working the shovel through the dirt, he says quietly, tiredly, “Lorenzo called me yesterday, said he was released—” He stops, glances up at me, hesitating. “He was in jail for burglary.”

He’s either fucking with me or he doesn’t know my involvement in Lorenzo’s arrest. As dumb as he is, I’m leaning toward the latter. That means he didn’t want to mention the burglary conviction for another reason. I can guess why.

He returns to his task. “He called me when he got out, said he lost his apartment and needed fast money.” He shovels more dirt, avoiding my eyes. “I owed him my life, so I offered him a solution and flew home to help him.”

I look up at my estate as the pieces slowly click together. Shane must’ve been following Ivory before he approached her in the parking lot. If so, he already knew where she lives. When he saw me that night and recognized me as the guy who punched him, he figured out our relationship and who she lives with. Our schedule is obvious, so he bet on the assumption we would be at school.

“You came here to rob me.” My hands clench. “How did you get in?”

He pauses then resumes digging. “I guessed her code.”

Fuck. That’s a huge goddamn oversight on my part.

So then what? Lorenzo went in alone while Shane kept watch? She fought him. Somehow the cat was pulled into it. I won’t demand those details from Shane. She’ll give me an honest account when she’s ready.

He stares at the ground, voice tight. “She wasn’t supposed to be here.”

“Except she was. What do you think Lorenzo intended to do to her after he raped her? Would he have left her alive to point him out in a line up after he robbed the place?”

“Oh God.” His head lowers, his fingers wrapped so tightly around the handle of the shovel it has to be cutting circulation.

“Do you know why I punched you that night?”

He glares at the dirt, nostrils flaring.

“She came to school with a busted lip.” I let my disgust clip the words.

His eyes close, face pinched in pain.

I find a sick sort of comfort in his guilt. “A brother is supposed to protect his sister. Stand up to bullies for her. Walk through fucking fire for her.”

He leans on the shovel like a crutch, his entire body shaking. “I fucked up, okay?” He lets go of the handle and scrubs his hands over his head, his eyes stark with anguish. “She tried to tell me for years, but I didn’t listen. I was just so…angry with her. About the school thing and her relationship with Dad. Then here she is, living in this huge mansion…”

I don’t think he’s talking for my benefit, and I don’t give a shit what his justifications are. I just need to know if he’s going to be a continuing threat to Ivory.

Rising from the bench, I grab the shovel and dig. “So Lorenzo’s call gave you the idea to take from her. With his robbery experience, you jumped on the opportunity to steal some of her happiness for yourself.”

He drops his arms to his sides and stares at the house, his voice a croaked whisper. “Yeah.”

I settle the cat in the hole, swallow a knot of sadness, and return the dirt. “I should be burying you instead of Schubert.”

A frown contorts his face, his ignorant eyes backlit with conviction. “I promise I won’t cause her any more trouble. Fuck, I’ll spend the rest of my fucking life staying the hell out of hers. It’s the only thing I can offer her.”

I’ll have a PI on my payroll for the rest of her life to make sure of it. “It’s time to deal with the other thing.”

“Yeah.” He lifts his chin, gazing out toward the darkening sky over the eastern horizon. “I know a place.”

The moment I wake, my muscles tighten in memory of the day’s events. A dim lamp glows in the gloom of the bedroom, casting shadows over my brother’s dour expression where he slouches in a chair beside the bed. It’s disturbing to see him in this house, in a place that’s always represented safety, happiness, and love. But I’m not scared. Emeric would kill him before allowing him to be alone with me again.

I shift my attention down the length of the mattress and find watchful devotion in eyes of shimmering blue. My heart hums.