Page 30 of The Art of You

Deciding we needed to escape the city, Hudson and my brothers had figured out a way to elude the press stalking the hospital, whisking us all away to a space of relative safety.

The quintessential Hamptons residence, my parents’ summer home, was a three-story, grand shingle-style cottage estate on the beach, offering stunning panoramicviews of the Atlantic. Six acres of lush green land cradled the rest of the house, with two wraparound porches to take in all of the gorgeousness.

Aside from the beach, my favorite spot was the garden and the large brick patio. It was the ideal setting to dine beneath open skies on warm summer days with my family.Mywholefamily.

But without Bianca there, we weren’t really whole anymore. So, as “perfect” a place as this was to escape to, even with security guards buzzing about doing perimeter checks and keeping the site secure, perfect was no longer achievable.

The good vibes were long since gone. And no amount of peaceful sounds, beautiful sights, and fresh air would stamp out the memory of what used to be compared to what was now. My sister was gone, and fourteen years later, someone was using a photo to throw her death back in my face.

At the sudden whooping of blades, I turned to see the helicopter that dropped us off back in the sky over the helipad. The pilot was returning to the city to pick up my parents, who would join us later today. My siblings and Callie had driven here a few hours ago to prepare everything for our morning arrival.

Callie had also packed a bag for me while Alessandro retrieved the photo and checked the security cameras. He’d pulled a partial image of a man slipping the envelope through the small mail slot in my door around seven on Friday night, but the image wasn’t clear.

I still believed Kit was behind it. Of course she’d have someone run her errands to keep her hands clean of it.

Since our facial recognition software couldn’t produce a match for the man, my brothers delivered the security footage, along with the photo and original envelope, to Adelina late lastnight. Hopefully her access to some high-caliber FBI tools would yield better results.

“You’re awfully patient with me today,” I admitted to Hudson, needing a break from my heavy thoughts. It was the first time I’d said anything since we’d boarded the helicopter at the hospital, using their helipad.

I glanced at the statue of strength at my side, wearing a backward baseball hat and Ray-Bans. Unlike me, he had no lightweight jacket to keep him warm, just a white tee for a top.

“Would you prefer I not be?” Without facing me, he hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans and continued to stare off toward the ocean.

The bruises on his face and the bandage around his right arm distracted me from answering with equal amounts of sarcasm. His injuries were a harsh reminder of why we were here. And why a sniper was perched on the roof behind a long gun.

My brothers never half-assed anything, especially not regarding my safety.

“I just need one more second before we join everyone inside.”

“Take as many seconds as you need.” If patience were something tangible, it would feel like a blanket of Hudson’s words. His typical sarcasm was completely absent, because he knew how hard it was for me to be here.

Fidgeting with the buttons of my jean jacket, I finally got my feet to move, but in the wrong direction. Leaving the house behind me, I ventured to the garden instead.

Hudson caught up with me, matching my steps. I slowed down a bit, remembering he’d needed a cane to walk just last night, and I didn’t want him feeling unnecessary pain because of me.

I did my best not to react when I felt his hand go to my backas he switched spots with me on the trail like we were by traffic instead of walking along a pond. Knowing him, he was worried I’d fall in.

I stopped once we arrived in the garden cocooned by Mother Nature. Trees, flowers, and vines crawled over every inch of the space.

“How much time do you think I have before my brothers come looking for us?” I blew out my cheeks before allowing the pent-up air to sputter free. “They’d have seen the helicopter land, and surely one of those security guards radioed to let them know we’re walking the property.”

“I texted them that you need a moment.” He removed his Ray-Bans and hooked them at the front of his tee.

A moment was much more generous than the second I’d requested. Also more realistic. It could be an hour’s worth of seconds before I found my way inside the home, where I’d probably hear the echo of Bianca’s laughter ring through the hall walls.

“You’re stealthy. I didn’t see you with your phone.” Must have speed-texted en route to the garden.

“Part of my SEAL training. I can do a lot of things fast.”

“Hopefully, you slow down for some things.” It took me about two and a half seconds too long to realize how that sounded.

Based on the slight smirk sitting on his lips, it took him even less.

You’re great at distracting me.My heart rate was no longer at a NASCAR-worthy speed. My skin was warming up despite the crisp, cool air. That was probably partly from embarrassment at implying I hoped he wasn’t quick between the sheets. But most notably, I wasn’t filled with as much sadness as when we first arrived.

“Bianca would hate this,” I murmured, switchingfromaccidentalsexual innuendos back to tragedy. “She’d hate how her death changed the way I feel about this place.”

“She would definitely hate that.” He gestured to the beauty surrounding us. “If I remember correctly, Bianca used to sit here and write in her journal, while you?—”

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