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“What?”

“Livvy,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, “there’s a reason why it’s called The Unseen.”

“Okay . . .”

“Those who see us aren’t around long enough to tell the tale.” He laughs, throwing his head back. “Just kidding.”

I swallow hard and try to avoid glancing over at the basement doorway.

We relax for a while. Danny catches me up with what he’s been up to. It’s a watered-down version. I give my ownPG-13 version of what I’ve been doing, too. I omit to mention that his boss is in my basement, not locked up this time. Danny doesn't know that I know him. Or at least, I don’t think he does.

I never mentioned his visits to Squeeze the Day or the way he watched me. I never considered why before, and I suppose the answer is still unclear.

Eventually, Danny leaves with the promise that he’ll be back soon to visit. This means I could see him tomorrow or in a few weeks.

With the click of the front door, the basement door creaks open ominously. Austin heard the way Danny spoke to me earlier. And although my brother was quick to apologize, I still can’t seem to recover from the sick feeling Austin’s expression left in my gut.

His mask slipped, and for a second, I caught a glimpse of the monster that lies beneath. Like boiling water on a stove on the cusp of bubbling over. The hiss and spit of the steam puffs into the air, a constant reminder that at any moment, the peaceful tranquility could be annihilated in one swift eruption.

He stalks toward me, his face soft and comforting. Is this the face of a man who comforts the loved ones of a man he’s just killed? Or is about to kill?

“I’ve got to take care of a few things. I’ll be back, okay?” He drops a kiss on my forehead.

“Wait. How much did you hear when Danny was here?”

“Everything’s going to be okay, I promise.” He cups my face, his eyes swimming with an explanation I can’t decipher. Before I can protest, he lets me go and picks up a set of keys, the door swinging shut behind him.

Chapter Thirteen

Austin

The wrought iron fence lines the property between red brick pillars. Guarding the top of these pillars are stone lions, their pose hunched as if peering over at those who dare enter. Teeth bared, stance ready to pounce. I press the button on the silver box, which seems out of place with the old-fashioned entrance.

The buzzer clicks off, and an unknown voice answers. I state my name and purpose, and after a brief hesitation, the gates slowly open. The gravel drive is going to destroy my wheel arches, but I need to do this. The obnoxiously long drive is littered with armed guards, all eyeing my car suspiciously. And why wouldn’t they? I’ve only been here a handful of times in the last ten years. It’s not like we socialize.

I pull up to the manor house. Corinthian-style columns adorn the front of the house, with two large doors ushering you into the foyer. If you’re not born with class, you can just buy it.

I don’t expect him to be standing outside the front of the house, but he is. I would have thought he’d have me brought to his office so he could finish some work while I watched and waited. Perhaps if I’d given him fair warning of my arrival he would have thought to do that. Power plays are his strength, but only when he’s prepared.

“You’re wearing jeans,” he remarks with a slight hint of disgust.

“Hello, brother. What a spectacular observation.” I look down at my jeans and mahogany leather boots.

“I haven’t seen you in anything but a suit since we were teenagers. It looks...odd.”

Not sure if that’s a compliment or not.

“And you’re wearing the Tom Ford. Your best one, in my opinion, Augustus.”

He sniffs, tugging at the bottom of the suit, flattening the crease where he’s been sitting in it. He eyes me suspiciously, despite my compliment being genuine. We’re not often nice to each other, but if we are, it comes at a cost.

“Why are you here?”

“We need to talk.”

“Obviously,” he sneers.

“Can I come in?” I ask.