“Why?”

“Because we sold out of signed prints. Warm up that wrist, man.”

“I thought people were forgetting who I am? Don’t these people know I’m toxic?” She’d hidden her reaction as best she could from Brick. But the last round of bad press had stung. Like a thousand pissed-off hornets.

“Britney Spears still sold records after she shaved her head. But she also kept working.”

“I am.”

“Good. Show me what’s on the easel,” he demanded.

“Not happening.” Her gaze flicked to the painting in question. She was dabbling with “No Surprises” again. Revisiting the accident in oils between other projects. She still cried when she listened to the song. But it was a cleaner kind of purging. A purification almost.

The doorbell echoed from the front of the house. “I gotta go, Raj. Someone’s here.”

“Put the painting on the Pony Express. I’ll send you the prints.”

“Deal. Bye.”

She stashed her phone in her pocket and jogged to the front door, where she found Kimber pacing on the porch.

“I told Kyle I want a divorce,” she announced. Her shoulders were ramrod straight, jaw set. One lonely tear slid down her cheek.

Wordlessly, Remi opened her arms, and her big sister walked into them.

* * *

“Do you remember way back when you asked me to move in?” Remi said into her phone as she pulled the bedroom door closed behind her, shutting out the happy chatter of Hadley and Ian, whose hearts were about to be crushed.

“It sounds vaguely familiar,” Brick said dryly.

“How would you feel about having a few more house guests?”

She quickly filled him in on the situation.

“Remington, you know they’re welcome to stay as long as they want,” he said.

“You’re being awfully amicable. You didn’t even try to get any sexual favors out of me in return.”

When he didn’t laugh or growl as she’d expected, she knew something was wrong.

“What’s going on, Brick? Was it something with your dad?”

He cleared his throat, making her even more anxious. “Dad saw Camille leave the house today and followed her. He noticed she was limping—”

“That fucking monster,” Remi snarled. If Warren had started up again, there was no telling how far it would go this time.

“He got some pictures of her. It’s hard to tell, but it looked like she had some bruising on her neck.”

“Brick.” Her voice broke. “We need to get her out of there.”

“I know, baby. I know. We’ll figure this out. Dad couldn’t get near her. She had a security goon with her. So he followed them from a distance. She’s at some event for an art organization.”

Her grip tightened on the phone until her knuckles ached. “The Arts Council?”

“Yeah. Are you familiar with it?”

“She’s on the board.” Her mind was already a million miles away.

“Listen, we’re getting ready to take the MMR out to shake the dust off her,” Brick said. The Mackinac Marine Rescue was a thirty-one-foot rescue boat operated by the island and crewed by a team of volunteers. “How about we swing by, and the kids can wave from the boardwalk?”