The Sometime Sister by Katherine Nichols (ebook reader for comics .txt) 📕

the rail with one hand and held my cue stick with the other. Only the sound of the sliding glass door kept me from turning around and crawling back to the balcony.

The rubber soles of my sandals squeaked as I descended, and I was sure Prez heard every leaden step but was too worried about losing my balance to risk a backward glance. The last few planks were spaced at odds from the others, causing me to stumble and lose my footing. When I reached the ground, my knees slammed into sharp little pebbles, but I held onto the pool stick.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Prez’s eerie, childlike command echoed overhead. Without stopping to think or catch my breath, I darted underneath the stairs. I prayed the blow from the tequila bottle had done more than bloody his nose—that it had addled him. Addled or not, he was making his way down. My eyes adjusted to the dark, but he had the advantage of having been here before.

Don’t panic, don’t panic, I told myself while searching for an escape route. Even if I found it, I doubted I could outrun him. My best option was to slow him down and return to the main road.

From my hiding place, I wriggled my way close to the landing and waited, pool cue in hand, for him to reach the last three steps.

“There’s nowhere to run, Grace.” He stopped inches from me. I held my breath. “This is not cool. I only want to talk.” He resumed his descent, and just as he reached the third step from the bottom, I jabbed the stick upward. He let loose a guttural cry, and I slid it sideways, then cracked it across his ankles. Now his scream was more of a high-pitched squeal. His feet slipped, and I heard a sickening thud as he bounced off the rail and flew down the last few steps. There were no more screams.

Without checking to see if he got back up, I bolted toward the front of the house. The driveway was as steep as I remembered, so I scrambled crablike down the incline and rushed to the road, hoping I could make it before he recovered.

Continuing along the rough shoulder, I moved as fast as I could. A motor roared around the curve, and I resisted the urge to flag down the approaching vehicle. If the car was headed to the house where Prez and Ben held me captive, the driver was more likely foe than friend. I hid behind a cluster of boulders and waited. Glaring headlights made it impossible to identify until it was beside me. It was Harry’s Bronco.

He skidded to the side of the road, and the men jumped out.

Justin reached me first and crushed me to his chest.

“Jesus, Grace! What happened to you?” Harry asked.

Justin relaxed his grip and held me at arm’s length, surveying what must have looked like heavy-duty damage.

My hair was matted to my head. I could feel grit on my face and arms and realized my sundress was hanging by one strap, exposing what was once my sexiest bra. Now it was mud streaked and sad. My skirt was torn and covered with dark red spots from my shredded knees, and somewhere along the way I lost a sandal.

“I’m not sure, but I might have killed someone,” I confessed before my legs buckled. Justin got me in the car, and I explained what had gone on since I’d seen them.

When I finished my story, no one spoke for a moment. Then Justin said, “I think we should go to the villa.”

“I’m not sure what happened to Ben, but Prez could need an ambulance.” I protested.

“It’s not a good idea for anyone to see you here,” Harry said while turning the car around. “Remember that restraining order? The authorities might not believe the man who took it out would want to kidnap you.”

I hadn’t thought about that. In my defense, I hadn’t had time to think about anything other than getting away. But they were right. Leaning against Justin’s body, I tried to shut out the image of the hole in Javi’s head.

“Wait. How did you guys know where to find me?”

“Eduardo. He watched as you started toward the villa and saw the guy shove you into Ben’s car. He wasn’t sure where they’d taken you but had heard about the Point house. It was our best bet, so we came.”

It was after midnight when we returned to the hotel. I sat on the sofa while Harry cleaned and bandaged my knees. Justin watched with a grim expression on his face.

“So, Ben’s missing and Prez is disabled, maybe dead,” Harry surmised, putting the finishing touches on my bandages. “The two of them were at odds with Balsuto. Could he be aware of the double-cross?”

“I doubt it. Because if he was, I don’t think they would be around to talk about it.” Justin turned to me. “You wouldn’t either.”

I couldn’t get past the notion Aldelmo would hurt me or Stella but didn’t argue the point. Instead, I reminded them about what Eduardo had told me and insisted finding Eva was more important than ever now that we knew she had been with Stella before she died.

“You’re right, Grace. But I think we all need to get some rest before we decide what to do next,” Harry said.

“I agree.” Justin stood and offered me his hand. “You’ve had a busy day.” He pulled me to my feet. He led me to my room and shut the door behind us.

“Please don’t be upset with me. All I meant to do was shop.”

He put his finger to my lips and said, “I’m just glad you didn’t get killed. But you’re muddy and exhausted. You take a quick shower, and I’ll sit here to make sure you’re okay. We can talk tomorrow.”

As tired as I was, I wanted to invite him to join me. But I remembered his reaction when I said