Swanning off and avoiding her responsibility to Dammit was, in my mind, reprehensible.

Swanning off so that I could briefly avoid my own responsibility, Dammit in tow, probably wasn’t much better, but it at least involved coffee. If I kept this up, there was no way Mama Ami was ever going to graduate me out of my apprenticeship. The thought made me a little panicky, but I buried it deep, concentrating on the little life cradled to my chest.

Chapter Two

Declan

I zipped up my duffel bag, the dry hiss of the zipper a strangely final sound.

“Is that it, then?” Zoey’s voice was scratchy, the skin around her eyes red and puffy, making the blue of her irises almost glow. Zoey had dressed for comfort today. Her jeans were fraying around the cuffs, and the shirt from her favorite comic shop had seen better days. She’d about walked the soles off her Chuck’s.

My sister takes after her mother—pale, blonde, waifish, with a spine of steel. I didn’t think I’d spent more than a few days apart from Zoey since she was born when I was five. For twenty-three years she’d been in my pocket, and even now I was tempted to take her with me. But she needed to stay. Her business was here, Sid was here, her life was here.

And I knew, deep in my heart, that if I wanted to stay part of her life, I needed to leave. At least for now.

Her eyes searched my face and I realized I hadn’t answered her question. I nodded, my chest tight. A few boxes, a duffel bag, and a suitcase. My twenty-eight years hadn’t amounted to much.

“You sure you don’t want to take more? I know you paid for the furniture.” Zoey pushed her blond bangs out of her eyes, telling me that she was frustrated with either me or the situation, likely both.

Because I was moving out of the apartment I had been sharing with my girlfriend for the last year. Ex. She was my ex-girlfriend. And as the ex-boyfriend, I’d decided to move out, because it would be decidedly awkward to share a place with her and not just because I would have to watch her date my little sister.

I made myself shrug. “Nowhere to put it, and honestly, I don’t really want it.” It was more Sidney’s style than mine. She liked modern, sleek stuff, and I hadn’t cared enough to argue with her. I hefted up the duffel bag and tossed it onto my small pile. I knew I shouldn’t judge my life by my possessions, and I didn’t, not really. But they seemed awfully symbolic of the rest of my life. No job, no woman, no place to live. You have become the cliché of the lone wolf and possible inspiration for a country song.

What I had left wouldn’t even take up the back of my SUV. Then again, I wanted a fresh start. The less stuff, the fresher it would be—I knew that from experience. Keepsakes were there to help you remember, and that’s the last thing I wanted right now. Sidney, being Sidney, had cut me a check for the furniture, as well as my part of the deposit for the lease.