Page 31 of The Winslow Brothers

I break away from the group and rush forward to hold the door to the car open. Remy is the first to hop inside. Winnie is next, her eyes sad as she carefully lifts up the bottom of her red bridesmaid dress to follow her eldest brother, and Ty climbs in immediately after.

Jude is next, but for some reason, he pauses, resting his hand on the top of the door. “Flynn?” he asks, his voice quiet.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t think…we shouldn’t be…” He pauses, then finds his words. “The psychic, bro,” he says on a ragged whisper. “I mean, should I be worried about losing the bet I made on tomorrow’sheavyweight fight between Billings and Dempsey? I really don’t want to cough up eight large.”

I almost want to laugh at the absurdity of his question.

And the godawful timing.

But the urge to hit him is stronger.

“Jude,” I say, shaking my head and reaching out to smack him on the back of the neck. “Not the time, man. Not the time at all.”

He just shrugs it off in a way only Jude can pull off without seeming like a total dick and takes a seat in the limo beside Winnie.

I’m the last one inside, and the mood in the limo is unbelievably heavy. It’s only when I settle into the seat beside Remy and we pull away from the sidewalk, destination anywhere but fucking here, that I consider the scant viability of Jude’s remarks.

Cleowasn’twrong.Remington, you will experience great heartbreak, she’d said. And if this isn’t the greatest fucking heartbreak I’ve ever witnessed, I don’t know what is.

But if it’s true…if this has anything to do with the prophecies she made…

I can’t even begin to imagine what’s in store for the rest of us.

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