Page 113 of Ruby Malice

“You want me to go to a dinner with you?” she asks.

“I want you toworka dinner I’m hosting,” I clarify. “You were a waitress once upon a time, in case you forgot.”

And for a heart-wrenching second, I think I’ve broken her. I think whatever thin veneer of composure Rayne has managed to scrape together is going to shatter under the building pressure of her rage. But then she takes another long, steadying breath, and nods. “Yes. I have some experience.”

“Perfect. Wear a black cocktail dress and your most pleasant smile.”

Her lips pucker in distaste. “I’ll do my best.”

The tension crackles as I walk around the island and drop back down into the barstool. After a few seconds, Rayne turns and resumes unloading the dishwasher. But her movements are stilted.

She’s so easy with Ilya. So comfortable. But the moment I’m around, the claws come out. Hers and mine alike.

Maybe she was right. Maybe things will never be easy between us. Maybe we’re too far gone for “simple” to ever be possible.

But as I watch her move around the space, the blood thrumming under my skin, I don’t wish for “simple.” Rayne burns with something I’ve never experienced before.

I’m more than happy to dance in the flames.

26

RAYNE

I trudge up the long driveway to the guesthouse as the sun is setting. My bus was running late today and I want nothing more than to shower off the day and hop into bed. Usually, I’d stop in and say hi to Lana and the kids, but I haven’t really spoken to Lana since she yelled at me on the beach. The only thing she’s said to me is “You have a package by the front door” when I came home from work yesterday. When I went inside to get it, Lana and the kids were nowhere to be found. I pictured them all huddled in the basement panic room with the door locked and Mitchell’s little peashooter pistol clutched tight in her hand as I stomped around upstairs like the boogeyman in a bad slasher movie.

So I’m fully focused on my own front door and actively trying not to look through the kitchen window to see what they’re doing when someone screams my name.

“Raynie!”

I look up and have to blink a few times to convince myself I’m seeing who I think I’m seeing. “Alexis?”

My older sister throws her arms wide and grins. “In the flesh!”

I run over and let her pull me into a hug. “Oh my God. What are you—Well, I know what you’re doing here. But I thought you weren’t getting in for two more days?”

“Dustan surprised me with an anniversary trip to a resort I’ve been wanting to go to, but the only available slot they had started at the end of this week. So we had to move this trip up to squeeze that one in.”

“Oh,” I mumble. “Wow. How nice.”

“Amazing, right?” she asks. “We’re going to be here for two days and then at the resort for five more. It’s so needed. I haven’t had a vacation in months.”

I want to point out how mind-boggling it is that she and Dustan can rearrange their work schedules to make it to a resort but they couldn’t make it to say goodbye to Mom, but I bite my tongue. I already have one sister mad at me; I don’t need to go two for two. That’ll probably happen on its own soon enough, knowing my luck.

“Well, either way, I’m thrilled to see you,” I say. “I’m just getting back from work.”

“Yeah, Lana said you might be too tired to eat with us tonight. She wanted me to let you go to your room and rest. But I don’t want to miss a minute of sisterly bonding.” Alexis wraps her arm around my shoulders. “Come inside and eat with us. Dustan and Mitchell pretended they knew how to work the grill and I made pasta salad.”

It’s obvious Lana was hoping I wouldn’t come in for dinner. But Alexis doesn’t seem to be aware there is anything wrong between us. Maybe this is the door cracking open a little bit. So what if I have to force my way in? If it helps fix things between me and Lana, it will be worth it.

“Yeah, okay,” I agree. “Just let me change and clean up a bit.”

“The cleaning never stops for you, does it?” Alexis laughs. “I’m kidding. But make haste—I’m starved.”

She’s there and gone before I fully have time to process it. But that’s Alexis: a whirlwind 24/7.

I run into my room, change into a pair of ripped jeans and a cropped tee, brush the tangles out of my hair, and freshen up my makeup. It’s more effort than I usually put into a dinner with my family, but I’m trying to make a good impression, seeing as how I’m starting from way behind the eight ball.

When I open the back door, I can hear loud voices coming from the dining room. Mitchell and Dustan are talking about different smoker boxes for the grill and the merits of wood pellets versus charcoal. Alexis and Lana are laughing uncontrollably about something.

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