Page 61 of Sins (The Sins Trilogy 1)
Chapter Twenty-Six
Anthony
I wanted to get back to Tempérane on Sunday, but my flight is delayed due to weather…then canceled.
On Monday, the flight leaves five hours late due to mechanical problems. By the time I make it to Houston, it’s too late for my connection. The nine-thirty p.m. commuter plane to Tempérane has already left. Since it’s the last one out of the city, I have to spend the night in Houston.
I call Ivy from the hotel. She doesn’t answer. I text her, but there’s no reply. It’s as though she’s cut me out of her life.
Who could blame her, though? I was a total dick at the pizza joint.
In-person groveling,I decide. That’s what I need to make up for this mess.
What if she really did decide she doesn’t love you anymore?
The unwelcome question pops in my head. No, no, no. Ivy isn’t that fickle. Her love is stronger and purer than mine. I’ll see her and do whatever it takes to make her happy. If she wants me to get on my knees, so be it. I’m willing to do anything because I know that as long as I’m sincere, she’ll forgive me. For some weird reason, she thinks there’s good in me, something worth cherishing. I hold on to that all night long…and through the short hop from Houston.
By the time I finally make it to Tempérane, it’s Tuesday. I’m so happy to be back that not even the merciless sun and humidity of August can put a damper on my mood. I stop by a florist to grab a bouquet of tiger lilies on the way. The florist gives me a funny look as she hands me the flowers.
I stare back at her. “What?”
“Nothing.” She clears her throat, not meeting my gaze. “Just…got distracted. Sorry.” She hands me my credit card back.
Huh.
When I come home, Jonas isn’t around. It’s Harry who’s waiting, his face pale and tight.
“What’s wrong?” I look around. “Where’s Ivy?”
He runs his fingers through his hair. He bites his lip when he notices the flowers in my hand. “Maybe we should go to the living room and sit down,” he says. The words come too quickly, as though he’s throwing them out to fill a silence he can’t stand.
“Is she upstairs?”
“No. She…” A long sigh. “We should get you something to drink first. You must be tired from the trip. What a bunch of shitty delays.”
I narrow my eyes. My brother thinks he’s slick, but he’s as transparent as water, especially when he’s flustered. “Cut the bullshit, Harry. What’s wrong?”
He closes his eyes for a moment, then runs a hand over his jaw. “Ivy went to over to St. Agnellus on Saturday. A piano performance. She didn’t come back.”
“Okay. So where is she?” I ask, my hand around the bouquet tightening.
“Well, that’s the thing. We aren’t really sure. She’s not answering her phone, and, uh…”
“Did she go over to a friend’s place?”
He shakes his head. “We checked already. Called all around town.”
Shit.This is my fault. Maybe she was too upset to stay here, knowing I’d be back. I should’ve never gone to California. “Let me go look for her.”
“I think it’s better if we wai—” His phone rings. Eyebrows pinched, he answers. “Hello? Yeah…?” He pales so fast I’m afraid he’s going to pass out. He blindly reaches out and grabs the edge of a heavy marble stand. “Are you sure?”
Suddenly I can’t speak. The entire house seems to fill with dread.
Harry looks at me, his eyes haunted. “It’s Edgar.” He swallows. “They found Ivy in a bayou. A car accident in the storm on Saturday. That’s…where… Aw, shit. That’s why I thought maybe we should just wait because…” He breathes out roughly, shoving a hand into his hair.
My vision dims. The words get caught in my throat. No. No.
“It’s her car,” Harry adds, his voice shaky. “Her ID.”
