Page 19 of Look What You Made Me Do

Her brother was so hostile and she didn’t understand how blowing off his education – his one true chance at leaving his upbringing behind for good – was going to make anything better.

“Do you want to come in?”

The husky invitation was out before she had a chance to fully consider the wisdom of it. Which spoke volumes about her reluctance to be the big sister right now. She might have been snippy and irritable with him at the bar and he came burdened with their own complicated history she’d rather not think about but, standing here contemplating the fraught conversation in her future, she’d take whatever delaying tactic she could get.

Even if it was Jake.

He didn’t say anything for long beats which, perversely, only made her more desperate for him to agree. “It’s usually utter chaos around here,” she admitted with a nervous half-laugh, “but if you’re game…”

Cerberus yipped an encouraging bark and they both glanced at him as he gave an enthusiastic tail wag/whole body wiggle.

Jake petted the dog. “I’m always game.”

Relief flowed cool as Lake Michigan in December through Ella’s system and she pushed the squeaky gate open. “Virgin sacrifices first.”

He grinned. “Should I be afraid?”

“Very. Daisy loves fresh blood.”

5

Suddenly there was a rumble of barking and a flash of fur and Jake found himself surrounded by four canines, all in various stages of excitement. A large Golden Retriever leaped up onto Jake’s chest.

“Genghis!” Ella chided. “Down, boy!”

But Jake didn’t mind, ruffling the dog’s head affectionately before crouching to pat the other dogs who were taking it in turns to sniff Cerberus’s butt. When Ella shooed them all into the house the pack seemed perfectly okay with the new dog on the block tagging along.

“Sorry about that,” she apologized. “They’re a lot.”

“Nah.” Jake pushed to his feet. “I miss having a dog.”

They’d always had some mangy mutt or other his father had managed to pick up from God knew where so Jake felt right at home here. In Ella’s house. Ella Lucas from Trently.

No matter how he tried, he still couldn’t wrap his head around how two misfits from the same tiny town in Kansas had ended up reconnecting in the same Inverboro burb.

Life was one weird son of a bitch.

He’d been drafted to the Inverboro Sentries for his rookie year and had lived here for a couple of years before being traded to the Broncos, then on to the Oregon Founders. But it was fair to say, his memories of Inverboro were not fond.

Stuff had gone down here that had been directly linked to the ignominious ending of his career. Still, when choosing where to settle after his retirement, it had been a no brainer – Trish lived here, so he’d moved back.

“Come on, I’ll take you through.”

Jake nodded even though he had no idea why he’d agreed to this at all. It was cozy, family crap which was stuff he usually avoided – even with Trish. But Ella had seemed so desperate and something else, something bigger, had wrapped his resistance in a giant tentacle and yanked.

They climbed up the four steps to the porch and entered via the front door which was wide open. Not particularly safe given the area they lived in but then anyone entering the house would have to brave the dogs and he supposed they probably could be fierce if called upon.

The house was best described as lived in. There were signs of some wear and tear and the furniture was cozy rather than fancy, but it was well proportioned and solidly constructed.

Jake stopped at a framed black-and-white portrait-style photograph hanging on the wall near the doorway that separated the dining room and kitchen. It was of two women, very beautiful although quite young.

Twins, he realized. Same dark hair, same wide-set eyes.

One was sitting at a table, her wrists laden with thin bangles, big hoops hanging from her earlobes. Her beringed fingers cradled what he could only describe as a crystal ball. And there was a faraway look in her eyes, like she knew something no one else did.

A secret.

The other woman stood behind, her hands resting on her sister’s shoulders. She wore a sleeveless dress with a modest neckline, leaving her thin arms bare. Except they weren’t bare. They were covered in tattoos from wrist to shoulder. This one’s gaze was more… Frank. Piercing, even.

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