Page 7 of Forsaken Trail (Runaway 4)

I frowned. “Because I was hoping the answer would change.”

“Don’t.” She sighed. “Please. I don’t have the energy to play referee.”

“What a fucking disaster,” I muttered.

Not only had my grandmother’s phone call completely disrupted my plans for the next two weeks, forcing me to cancel the trip I’d planned for a year, but now I’d have to be around Aria Saint-James for the next two weeks.

“She’s my sister, Brody,” Clara said. “She’s welcome here. And if you make her feel unwelcome, then I’m moving.”

“You can’t move.” I spun away from the glass. That was the first time she’d ever made that threat, and I didn’t like how serious it sounded. “That’s your house.”

“No, it’s your house. I just live there.”

“Semantics. You’re not moving.”

Welcome was a safe community with good schools. Selling her on the move here hadn’t been difficult for those reasons. Plus a new home with state-of-the-art security. She belonged here. If that meant I had to play nice with the sister, so be it.

“I’ll be on my best behavior.” I feigned a bow.

“Good. This is an important trip for Aria. I haven’t seen her in months, and she’s going through something.”

“What something?” I asked, forgetting that I didn’t care.

“I don’t know.” Clara dug through the pocket on her hoodie, pulling out a wad of tissues. “She hasn’t told me anything, but I can feel it.”

Clara and Aria were fraternal twins, similar physically but each with their own unique traits, yet they had a bond like nothing I’d seen before. Their link was one I’d never understand but it existed like the walls, ceilings and floors of this house.

There were days when work was so stressful that Clara reached her wits’ end—Aria would always call. There were days when Clara would excuse herself in a meeting—she just had to text Aria. It was like they had a direct tap into each other’s moods and knew when the roller coaster had hit a low.

“Can we talk through the plan for tonight? The pilot will be ready to take off any time after five. What time do I need to be ready?” Clara put the tissues to her nose and blew hard. A snot bubble escaped the edge.

“Hell. You can’t go tonight.”

“Yes, I can.”

“You’re not going. You look awful.”

She pulled the tissues away from her face. “Gee. Thanks. I hope you don’t say that to your real dates.”

“You know what I mean.” I walked to the bathroom off the office and rifled through the cabinet until I found a fresh box of tissues. Then I brought them out to Clara where she’d collapsed on the couch, curled into the fetal position. “Here.”

“Thanks.” She clutched the box to her chest, her eyelids so droopy she couldn’t keep them open.

“Go home. Get some sleep. I’ll go solo tonight.”

“No way.” Clara pushed herself up with a grunt. “I’ll be fine. I just need a nap and a shower. Then I’ll be good to go.”

I sat beside her. “Sorry, but you’re not coming. Boss’s orders.”

“Ha.” She laughed, which turned into a fit of coughs. “Since when do I take my boss’s orders?”

“Fair point.”

Clara relaxed, her body sagging toward mine. I put an arm around her shoulders and held her before she could collapse onto the floor.

It was rare for us to hug. Was this a hug? Clara hugged everyone she knew but I wasn’t really the hugging type. But I considered her a friend. A best friend. Or . . . the closest thing I had to a best friend. Did it count when you paid them?

Probably not.