And Georgie could, at times, control our father and guide him. At other times, if he felt like not letting something go, he made things uncomfortable. And there were even other times when those things should be made uncomfortable for Georgie, but since she was his favorite and his heir, he transferred his displeasure to me.

The only thing I had to hold on to was that my sister wasn’t dumb and she knew all of this. Even desperate, I didn’t think she’d move forward stupid and she always did what she could to protect me.

So maybe it would work out.

She was right. Our legitimate dealings were much more successful than we knew, something now we would directly benefit from when we did not before because David was skimming a good deal off the top. And this also made laundering our other money easier.

So perhaps things were looking up.

I wanted to hold that hope. I wanted to believe, at least in that.

But I couldn’t shake the idea that there was no end to the downward spiral of the House of Shade. I couldn’t shake the feeling that the end of our world as we knew it was near. I couldn’t shake the thought that end was not going to be a good one.

For any of us.

* * * * *

9:23 – That Evening

Nick rolled off me, rolling me with him.

I tried to turn the other way to start preparations for making my escape but he held tight.

I put pressure on his hold, saying, “I need to go home, Sebring. I have to work this weekend.”

“You’re distracted.”

I stopped pushing, tipped my head back and saw his eyes on me, doing all this feeling more alarm than I should (which was to say, any at all), that he hadn’t enjoyed what we’d just done because he thought I was distracted.

“No, I’m not,” I denied.

He gave me a small grin but did it with an unusual look in his eyes. “Okay, let me rephrase. That was hot. I dug that. But it took work to get you there and it doesn’t normally take that kind of work or any work because you’re always all in from the start.”

Okay, so it was good. He enjoyed it.

There being nothing to worry about, I started putting pressure on his hold again, murmuring, “I’m just busy.”

His hold went strangely solid even as he let me go with one arm to put his hand at my jaw and force my attention back to him.

“Just yes, no or kind of,” he said in a tone of voice that made me brace. “You okay?”

That was when I understood his grin that was small and the look in his eyes.

He was worried about me.