Page 10 of Cruel Existence

She lifted her eyes to me, surprised and maybe even a little hurt. “I must have mistaken you for someone else,” she said.

I chuckled. “No, you didn’t. I remember. Bourbon Street. Although I had a view from above.”

She twisted her lips together. “You did remember. Trying to torture it out of me?”

“Ouch. Merely having a little fun.”

I had wondered who the girl was that night. I certainly never thought I’d see her again. A beautiful stranger, separated from her group on vacation. I had convinced myself that was who she was. I’d be lying if I hadn’t seen her face the last few nights when I’d fallen asleep.

“Why are you out here by yourself?” I asked. “Not having a good time at the party?”

“It’s a long story.” She sighed.

I walked to the wet bar. “I like long stories.” It was a hell of a lie. I barely had the patience to read texts. But if this girl had something to say, I wanted to hear it.

I rummaged through the liquor cabinet and revealed a bottle of vodka. “Drink?” I offered.

Amara nodded. “Yes, please.”

I poured one for each of us and sat on the edge of the chaise, allowing room for her body to slide next to mine.

“Are you friends with the Petrovs?” I asked. When she sat, the hem of the black dress rose along the tops of her thighs. I wondered if she was the kind of girl who ran miles with a personal trainer to have a body like that. Or was she naturally a knockout.

She shook her head. “No. Or yes? I’m not sure.”

I chuckled. “What does that mean?”

She blushed, pressing the glass to her lips. Fuck. They were full and lush. “It means I moved to New Orleans a few weeks ago. I don’t know anyone. I’ve met a few people, so I guess that’s not entirely true, but not anyone here. My father isn’t feeling well tonight, or he would have been here. I’m representing the family. Those are the instructions he gave. ‘Amara, you mustrepresent the family name,’” she mimicked her father with a decent baritone voice.

“Ahh. A new family in the area? Interesting.”

“Is it that unusual?”

“This is New Orleans. Everything is unusual.”

She laughed. It was light and airy. For a second, it opened something in my chest. Her laughter pried apart something I thought was sealed with darkness. The last few weeks since Ivan’s murder had been a metamorphosis. Not the kind where I emerged shiny and new. No, I was wrapped in dark blues, blacks, and greys. An ugliness dealing with the repercussions of having the family under attack.

“What about you? Bride or groom?” she questioned. “Which side brings you to the party?”

I was glad Amara gave me a break from the sinister side of life for a few minutes.

“Bride,” I answered. “The bride’s brother, actually.”

“Then, I should ask you why you’re in here and not at the party with your family. I have a good excuse. I’m hiding from strangers. You’re hiding from everyone you know.”

I could see Ciro’s silhouette through the blinds. Every few seconds, he looked over his shoulder to stare through the window.

“Hiding? I don’t hide.” I took another swallow of vodka. I stared in her eyes. For a second, I thought I stumbled into an abyss. I didn’t know where it could take me, and I didn’t care. I wanted to keep falling and see where I landed. I wanted a reminder I was still human somewhere beneath my skin.

“Will your sister be upset you’re in here?” she asked.

“Yes,” I admitted. “Very.” If there was one person who needed me tonight, it was Katya. But I couldn’t fight the wolves who surrounded her. She was lost to me. Lost to herself. Things would be different when I ran the family. But the original families couldn’t handle a revolution now.

“You should probably go then.” She licked her lips after another sip. “I don’t want to keep you from your family.”

“Another minute.” I leaned closer. I wanted to steal minutes. I’d take seconds if that’s what I could grab. “Does Ciro go everywhere you go?” I asked.

She nodded. “Everywhere. Well, for the last two weeks, he has. He’s my keeper. An unwelcome addition to my days and nights.”

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