Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Blake

" T ake smaller bites, kiddo." I extend a napkin across the small, round table to wipe chocolate and colorful sprinkles off Quinn's face. "You don't want to give yourself another brain freeze."

Swoop & Swirl bustles with customers stopping by on the way home from work, the tinkle of a bell filling the air whenever the door opens and closes. The smell of homemade waffle cones swirls around the charming retro interior, with pastel-colored walls adorned with vintage artwork. Cozy seating invites patrons to stay and enjoy their treats.

A cold case holds a variety of handmade yogurts and sorbets, with flavors ranging from creamy vanilla and rich chocolate to honey lavender and salted-caramel swirl. The back wall displays glass jars filled with topping options, and every table comes with a shaker of sprinkles.

When Quinn reaches for the shaker at our table, I move it out of reach. "You already can't see your ice cream through all those sprinkles. Save some for the next person."

She pouts but then bounces in her seat, her voice high-pitched with excitement. "I want to write stories like the pretty lady at the bookstore."

I smile at her enthusiasm. On the twenty-minute drive from Pinecrest to Mosswood, she hadn't stopped talking about meeting Aurora Storm.

My gut tightens as I recall my private encounter with the beautiful author, the feel of her soft body burned into my memory. I don't tend to go for Betas, but something about her called to me.

Maybe it was her wide blue eyes, or the adorable O of her rosebud lips when she looked up at me, or the pink blush that flooded her cheeks. All of it filled me with the desire to scoop her up and cuddle her close.

If not for Quinn, I might have embarrassed myself by trying to give her my number, famous author or not.

"I'm going to write about a unicorn who solves mysteries." Quinn shoves a giant mound of bubblegum ice cream into her mouth, and a second later, her face scrunches up in a grimace.

Laughing, I wait as she clutches the spoon and fights through the pain. "I warned you."

A server in a retro-inspired uniform with a green-pastel shirt and white apron bustles past us. He carries a bucket filled with empty bowls, clearing tables the second customers leave, while outside, more cars pull into the parking lot.

Out of Quinn's view, I check for messages but find none, and unease fills me. It's unusual not to have at least one text when I have Quinn out of the house for so many hours.

"Finish up your ice cream." I pluck more napkins from the dispenser. "We should head out soon."

"Okay!" Quinn grins and shovels the last bite into her mouth, her face scrunching with another headache.

Sighing, I slide my phone back into my pocket. "How about we grab some pizza for dinner?"

"Yay! Pizza!" Quinn claps. "Can we get cookie dough, too?"

I reach across the table to tug on her hair, and she grabs her tiara to stop it from falling off. "We just had ice cream. That's enough sugar for one day."

She pouts for a moment but quickly bounces back like she always does, her boundless energy amazing me. Nothing keeps her down for long.

After I wipe her face and hands cleanish, we walk next door and pick up a ready-made pepperoni and cheese, then head to my vehicle. I help Quinn into the booster in the back of the company SUV, securing her before placing the pizza box on the front passenger seat.

Sliding behind the wheel, the car starts with a low rumble, and I navigate through the bustling streets, driving toward the Sapphire Towers.

The sun dips lower toward the horizon as I turn into the affluent neighborhood.

The apartment complex is a marvel of modern architecture, shining white against the blue sky. I pull into the valet spot and hop out, leaving my keys in the ignition as I walk around to help Quinn.

Before I can unbuckle her seatbelt, though, Quinn wriggles free and springs out of the SUV, eager to be home. I grab the pizza and chase her, catching up to her at the entrance.

When I scoop her up under one arm like a sack of cement, Quinn sticks her legs and arms out. "I can fly!"

I smile at the man behind the security desk as I stride through the white marble foyer. Crystal chandeliers dangle over a fountain at the center, where the burble of water blends with quiet, classical music.

The gold doors of the elevator open into a wood-paneled lift that requires a code to access the uppermost units. I set Quinn down to punch in the access key for the twelfth floor. Quinn clutches the golden handrail as we ascend, the numbers flashing past too fast to count before we slow to a stop.

A marble foyer greets us, with four apartments—two on either side—and a floor-to-ceiling window at the end that overlooks Mosswood. Quinn races ahead to the first door on the left, punching in the code to get inside.

"We're home!" she calls out, her voice echoing through the silence.

When no response comes, I nudge her toward the living room, where more floor-to-ceiling windows offer a panoramic view of the city. "Why don't you go turn on the TV while I set the pizza down?"

She nods and her legs pump as she heads for the enormous flat-screen television mounted to the wall in front of a cream, L-shaped leather couch.

A glance through the patio doors out to the wraparound terrace reveals lush potted plants and empty lounge chairs. The spacious, open floor plan transitions from the living room to a gourmet kitchen, where gleaming stainless-steel appliances and marble countertops sparkle under the hand-blown, glass lights.

The maids have been in to clean, wiping away all evidence of the trashed state the apartment had been in when Quinn and I left this morning.

With Quinn distracted by the television, I set the pizza box on the island and make my way down the hall toward the master bedroom.

The scent of stale booze and cigarettes assaults my nostrils as I approach, the stench all too familiar and unwelcome. Anger and disappointment simmer inside me as I push open the door to reveal my sister, Sadie, sprawled on the floor next to her bed.

Even though I checked all her usual hiding spots this morning, she still found more alcohol. She's better at hiding it than I am at finding it. An empty vodka bottle lies beside her, a wet stain on the carpet giving testament that at least she didn't drink it all.

The ashtray on her nightstand overflows with cigarette butts, and a fresh hole of melted fibers beneath the one in her hand reveals that she passed out with one lit. She's lucky she didn't catch the apartment on fire.

How could she put herself and Quinn in danger like this?

"Sadie," I growl, my voice dripping with frustration.

She doesn't stir, her breathing shallow and ragged.

"Dammit, Sadie." With a glance back at the door to make sure Quinn is still distracted, I kneel beside my sister, checking for any signs of injury.

Her bleached-blond hair sticks to her sweat-drenched face. Lipstick smeared around her lips shows that she at least considered getting dressed today before falling back down the bottle.

"Uncle Blake? Is Mom still sleeping?" Quinn calls from the living room. "I'm hungry!"

"One second, kiddo!" Forced cheerfulness fills my tone. "Your mom's taking a shower. Did you wash your hands?"

"Yes!" she lies without hesitation, and the volume on the television rises.

"Sadie." I shake her none-too-gently by the shoulder. "Wake up."

Her golden-brown eyes flutter open, and she groans, her voice hoarse. "Wh-what do you want?"

"Come on." I grip her arm, helping her to her feet.

She wobbles before steadying herself against me. The urge to protect her courses through my veins, despite knowing that nothing can save Sadie from her own self-destruction.

God knows I've tried.

In the bathroom, I flip down the toilet lid and drop her to sit on it.

"Here." From the cabinet under the sink, I grab one of the room-temperature grape Pedialytes and press it into her hands. "You need hydration."

"Ugh, fine." She takes a few sips and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. "Happy now?"

My arms cross over my chest. "Drink more."

Choking down a couple more swallows, she slams the bottle onto the counter beside her. Bloodshot eyes rake over me. "What the fuck are you wearing?"

"Quinn and I had a princess day, remember?"

She snorts in disgust. "I can't believe you go outside looking like that. You bring shame to your pack."

"Let's clean you up." I turn away to hide my anger and twist on the shower. "Do you need help?"

"Ew, no!" she snaps, her cheeks flushing with annoyance. "I was only taking a nap, okay? Stop hovering over me like you're Dad."

Like our father would ever hover over her. That's what the live-in caretaker is for.

Reminding myself that alcoholism is a mental disease, I bite back a retort. "Fine. Hurry and wash off the stink of vodka and cigarettes. I brought home dinner."

"Whatever." She stumbles to her feet and pulls off her stained T-shirt, revealing a skinny body kept alive only by the calories in the booze she consumes.

I turn away to give her a semblance of privacy. "Where's Mrs. Reynolds?"

"Beats me," she says, her voice muffled by the shower door shutting.

Sighing, I pull the tiara off and tug the band from my hair. I run a hand through it to smooth out the flyaways before tying it back up into a bun. As I take the tutu off, the beep of the door sensors pierces the air.

"Don't pass out in the shower," I warn Sadie, remembering more than one time when she's done just that. "And try to eat something."

She slams a hand against the tiled wall. "Leave me alone, Blake!"

Grabbing my princess props, I hurry out to greet Mrs. Reynolds, who carries a bag of groceries toward the kitchen.

Her eyes widen in surprise at my presence. "Oh, Mr. Harris! I thought you were keeping Quinn for the night. I'm so sorry I wasn't here when you returned."

"It's fine. We only got back a couple of minutes ago," I assure her. "How was your morning?"

"Your sister fired me again," she says, a hint of exasperation in her voice. "I was out picking up some essentials for the weekend."

"I apologize for Sadie's behavior." I rub my forehead in frustration. "She doesn't have the authority to fire you. You're employed by our father, not her."

She nods, her face softening. "I know, Mr. Harris. It's just been a rough day."

"Your next paycheck will include a bonus," I promise, praying she doesn't quit. "Do your best to monitor Sadie. She's got a new stash spot somewhere in the house."

"Of course, Mr. Harris, I'll watch her," she agrees, though doubt tinges her expression. "But your sister has a talent for sneaking around."

"Unfortunately, she does." I've caught Sadie in too many compromising situations to count.

A pang of guilt shoots through me for leaving her like this, but I need to work. "Call me if something comes up."

"I will, Mr. Harris." She unloads her grocery bag. "I can take care of Mrs. Patel and Miss Quinn. You take care of yourself."

"Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds." I head into the living room and hug Quinn, breathing in her sweet scent of sugar and baby powder.

If I could take her away from all of this, I would, but my father has the final say in what happens to my sister and my niece. He'd rather have the illusion of a loving mother raising her daughter alone than ensure Quinn's safety.

Quinn wiggles in my hold, and I smack a kiss on her cheek. "I've got to go now, but I'll see you again soon."

"Okay." Trust shines from her eyes. "I'll work on my unicorn detective story so you can read it next time."

A lump forms in my throat. "That's a deal."

In the elevator on the way back down to the lobby, I sag against the wall and pull out my phone, speed dialing the fourth name on my list.

It connects, and the sound of an engine fills my ear. "Ya'llo?"

My shoulders slump, and I rub my temple where a headache throbs. "Hey, Kyle, I take it I missed my ride home?"

He chuckles. "By about ten minutes. Once I get our guest settled, I'll turn around and come back for you."

"Thanks, man. I'll be at the docks waiting." With a twenty-minute drive back to Pinecrest, I'll be cooling my heels for a while.

I hang up as the elevator doors open, and I stride back through the foyer, eager to return to Misty Pines Island.