Sebring

I suspected she had acid in her veins but I’d also hoped she had a soul.

She had no soul.

Looking right at her I saw it. For the first time I saw it.

Like our father, Georgia Shade had no soul.

“I don’t,” I told her.

“You do, he contacts you, you spill.”

“I understand where things are at with Gill, his ring is on your finger, but—”

It was her turn to interrupt me.

“This, we do not discuss. This is not up for discussion. We have a liability. We,” she bit off the last word while lifting a hand and waving it between us. “There are no words exchanged when we have a liability. When we have a liability, the crew unites while Momma takes care of the threat. You’re either a member of that crew or you’re not, Liv. And I think you get where you are if you’re not. You can bitch and complain and act superior all you want. It’s annoying but it’s you and I’ve swallowed it enough my whole life, I’m used to the taste, so I don’t give a fuck. But we got a threat, you close ranks. That’s it. No words. It happens. Now, I asked, you got that?”

She asked if I got it that, if I protected Nick, she’d mow me down to get to him.

Obviously, that was not okay.

But I got it.

“I got it,” I stated.

“So he’s not contacted you.”

“No,” I confirmed.

She stared at me, clearly assessed I was telling the truth, and nodded.

She relaxed.

I did not.

Her manner might have changed, but the look in her eyes was no less frightening.

“I want you to rethink Culver,” she stated.

I sat still and silent, my eyes anchored to hers, not of my choice.

“I’ve been paying attention to the moves he’s making, and one thing in his whole, fucked-up life Dad was right about is that Dustin Culver could be an asset,” she continued. “He could be useful. Give it time. A few days. Think on it. We’ll talk. When we do, if you don’t want to go there, I’ll want good reasons, Liv. Really good reasons. So when we talk, if you’re not up for giving that another shot, you need to have those reasons. Yes?”

I got that too.

With Tommy no longer in the picture, which meant whatever she promised him in regards to me not something she had to worry about, she now intended to revisit the idea of whoring me out to Dustin Culver due to the possibility he might be useful to the House of Shade. No reason I gave, including the fact I just wasn’t into him, certainly not the fact I was in love with one of our enemies, would be good enough.

The decision was made. I already had a mission: get Dustin Culver addicted to my snatch.

No.

My sister had no soul.

“Yes,” I said quietly.

“He’s a good-looking guy. You two’ll be good together,” she assured, as if looks were the only thing that mattered.

“You’re right. He’s not difficult to look at,” I agreed.

The scary went out of her eyes and she smiled.

I watched her smile and another part of me—the last part, a tiny part, the only part living, that being the part that was my love for my sister which I thought reciprocated the love she had for me—died.

I did not let this show.

I was a practiced hand at that too.

The rest of our business wasn’t nearly as much of a roller coaster ride, and when it was concluded, she left.

I wondered about Bali.

Or Fiji.

Or Timbuktu.

But in case they had someone following my browser history, I did not turn to my computer and do searches.

I’d learned.

I breathed but I did not exist.

This would always be the way.

The thing was, I wanted that way to be somewhere else so, even if I only breathed, I did it in a place I breathed easier.

One thing I learned from my sister and Nick Sebring was how to play the long game.

I would not go tomorrow or next month or maybe even next year.

But I’d go. Patient. Smart. I’d go.

Worried she’d try to find me, I’d never breathe free. Georgie had proved even more than Dad that she had no intention of letting go an asset she could use, an asset she thought was hers.

But maybe someday in the far distant future, I’d breathe easy.

And in the meantime, it was clear she was turning her full attention to Nick Sebring.

That was not my business.

He could take care of himself.

I never breathed easy.

But just the thought of my soulless sister deciding it was time to take care of that particular threat…

It was a wonder I could breathe at all.

* * * * *

11:13 – That Night

I stood in my great room, staring out the front windows, the old burner phone I used to use when I called the club in my hand.

I’d looked up the number in the phonebook. That way, no one could trace the search.

I’d memorized it.

I shouldn’t do what I was thinking of doing.

I couldn’t not do it.

I looked down at the phone, punched in the numbers and put it to my ear.

It rang four times before I heard a woman answer, “Slade.”

There was dance music in the background—not loud, muted. She was in an office at a nightclub.

Knight Sebring’s nightclub, Slade.

“I’d like to speak to Knight Sebring,” I stated.

“Mr. Sebring doesn’t take calls through this line. You have to talk to his PA, Kathleen, during normal business hours. I’m sorry, but if you don’t have her number, it’s difficult to get to him.”

This meant she wasn’t giving me Kathleen’s number.