“This is Ashley.”
“Hi, Ash, it’s Heather.”
Her sister didn’t miss a beat. “Have you reconsidered the deal for the house?”
“No.” Heather rubbed her forehead. “I wasn’t calling about any of that.”
“We don’t have much time.” Ashley sighed. “I need to give Flynn Enterprises an answer before they spend that money elsewhere.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to take me to court over the will.” Heather’s gaze fell on her reading table passed down through the generations, just like this house. Giving it up would be like losing everyone all over again. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m not interested in selling.”
“You’re just going to kiss off three million dollars? Unbelievable.” Ashley groaned, cursing under her breath. “If you’re not even going to consider the offer, then why the hell did you call me at all?”
“Because I’m worried you’re in danger. That ring you were wearing today is dangerous.”
“Oh please.” Ashley tsked. “Do not tell me you called to alert me that my fashion choices scare you.”
“I’ve seen those serpent rings before.” Heather pulled her hair back from her forehead and got up, pacing her living room. “They’re fanatics, Ash. They’ll come for the ring, and these aren’t kindhearted monks. They’ll kill anyone who gets in the way of their calling, and trust me, women aren’t part of it. Where did you get it, anyway?”
“An estate sale. And while I appreciate your sudden concern for my well-being, unless you’re ready to give me my half of the house, I’d rather you didn’t call me again.”
Heather froze in disbelief. Ash had a tendency for dramatics, but she couldn’t be serious about cutting her out of her life. “You’re the only family I have left. My twin sister. We should be together, not fighting over an old will.”
“Easy for you to say when that ‘old will’ gave you everything.”
“That’s not true.” Heather struggled to keep from raising her voice. “She left you plenty of money and jewelry.”
“None of it is worth as much as that roof over your head. I’m finished talking about this. If there’s nothing else…”
“Why are you changing the subject?” Heather wanted to reach through the phone and shake her sister. “I’m not kidding about the ring, Ash. They’ll kill you. It’s how they operate.”
“I can take care of myself.” She cleared her throat. “Goodbye, Heather.”
“Ash…” she whispered, but the line was already dead.
How could she protect her sister if Ashley wasn’t willing to admit how she got the ring in the first place? Heather sighed and sat on the couch, reaching for her laptop. She opened it and fired up Skull & Crossbones. If she didn’t decompress, she was going to explode, and that wouldn’t help her convince Ashley of the danger lurking around her, either.
When the game loaded, the chat screen was already live.
PirateQueen817: Hope you get here soon. Sick of getting trolled by gamers with a Y chromosome.
Just seeing Queenie was online unknotted Heather’s frayed nerves. She couldn’t confide everything, but even releasing some of the pent-up emotions was a huge pressure release.
GrayGhost: Sorry I’m late. It’s been a day…
PirateQueen817: Shit. I was hoping you were out enjoying yourself with Drake.
Heather chuckled, her fingers flying across the keyboard in answer.
GrayGhost: Oh I enjoyed him for sure, but it’s complicated.
They played for about an hour before her internet connection slowed and forced Heather’s pirate ship directly into a storm. Damn it. It was for the best. She needed to get offline anyway and figure out how to protect her sister, even though Ashley made it clear she didn’t want Heather’s help.
GrayGhost: The lag is killing me. I’m signing off for the night.
PirateQueen817: Go find Drake! I’m living vicariously through you.
GrayGhost: I’ll do my best. Night Queenie!
Heather shut her laptop, feeling much better than she had earlier in the night. Maybe now she could come up with a plan.
A knock came at the door and she nearly had to peel herself off the ceiling. Who could be calling at this time of night? So much for her newfound peace.
She picked up her canister of pepper spray and peered through the peephole. A tanned man with long braided hair was standing on her porch. He was wearing a black trench coat, easy to hide a weapon.
Yeah, there was no way she was opening this door.
He knocked again, this time adding, “Ms. Storrey, Drake sent me.”
She frowned and shouted her reply. “Why?”
“He’s worried about you, lass.” He paused, maybe waiting for her to respond. She wasn’t sure. “Didn’t mean to upset you. I thought he told you I’d be outside watching over the place.”
“Well, he didn’t,” she yelled through the door. “Who are you?”
“Greyson. I’m the master gunner on the Sea Dog, but these days I spend most of my time doing personal security.”
Drake had made it no secret that he didn’t like leaving her alone at her house tonight. But would he seriously take it so far as to hire his friend to watch her place without telling her?
Probably.
But until she was sure, the door was staying locked. She took out her phone and sent a text to David.
Is one of the Sea Dog crew named Greyson?
From the other side of the door, Greyson said, “I’m going to check the perimeter. You’ll never know I’m here.”
She checked the peephole as he jogged down the stairs from her porch. Her phone buzzed, pulling her attention. David’s text filled the screen.
He’s the master gunner. Why?
She worried her lower lip, trying to decide how much to share with David. His reply made it clear Greyson wasn’t lying. But if she didn’t answer at all, David would be the next male on her porch, and she didn’t have the bandwidth left to deal with him tonight, too.
Just curious. Sorry to bother you.
She held her breath, waiting for his reply, but it didn’t come. Good.
Over
