Page 194 of Dirty Damage

“I will.”

Whatever she sees in my eyes seems to calm her, because she takes a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing as she lets go of me.

As Artem and I head back down to the Escalade, I decide to call Sydney immediately.

“Now?” Artem balks.

“Why not? We don’t have time to waste.”

“You really think she’s gonna talk to you?”

“We’re running out of options. And I’m certain Sutton will have contacted her sister. They were always there for each other as kids. There’s no reason to believe anything has changed.”

I dial, and Sydney picks up just as I slide into the passenger’s seat. “… Hello?”

Her voice is eerily like Sutton’s. The familiarity sends an ache coursing through me that I’m not prepared for.

Like something has settled under my skin and I can’t fucking rip it out.

“Sydney.”

“Speaking,” she replies formally, her voice becoming instantly reserved. “Who are you?”

“I’m Oleg Pavlov.”

There’s a beat of silence. “No fucking way. What doyouwant?”

I toss Artem a glance. “I’m guessing Sutton contacted you already?”

“If she did, it’s none of your business. Not anymore, anyway.”

“She might be in trouble, Sydney.”

“Of course she’s in trouble, you gigantic douche bag!” she yells so loudly that I have to hold the receiver away from my ear. “You broke up with her and kicked her out of the house!”

“There were… extenuating circumstances.”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t hang up on you right now.”

“Because, believe it or not, I want to make sure your sister is okay.”

“Don’t worry about Sutton. She’s a survivor. Us Palmer women have had to be. Especially since we have a habit of attracting assholes. I thought Sutton had avoided the curse, but apparently not.”

“Where is she?” I ask.

“She’s leaving Florida, thanks to you,” Sydney replies snottily.

“What?” Artem spasms in his seat and the Escalade wobbles on the road for a second. “Where is she going?”

“I have no idea. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. Now, kindly fuck off and never call me again.”

The call ends. I stare at the receiver as though it just tried to take a bite out of me.

“Jesus, that sister of hers is a live wire,” Artem muses. “Guess it runs in the family.”

“Blyat’,” I say. “Looks like we’re going to have to find her on our own.”

“That is if she’s still in the state.”

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