Page 6 of Burn the World Down

At least I knew Georgie was living her perfect life.

Then, shoving dreams of things I couldn’t have out of my head, I headed out of the casino.

CHAPTER 2

GEORGIE

My life was hell.

I blew out a breath and sank down in a chair at the rickety table. The scent of old cigarette smoke and musty blankets tickled my nose. My hotel room wasn’t the seediest place I’d ever stayed, but it was definitely a far-distant cousin to the fancy suites at the swanky casinos on the Strip. This was at the outer fringe of Las Vegas’ glitz.

I scraped a hand through my hair, pushing back the drowning sense of despair. God, grief felt like a million razor blades cutting my skin. I still couldn’t believe how one day my life was good, and the next, I’d lost everything.

Chest tight, I rubbed my fist against my breastbone. I knew I should get some dinner. But as always, I wasn’t hungry. I was never hungry.

You need the strength, Georgie.

For what? I closed my eyes. I had nothing worth living for.

Once, I’d been part of a wonderful family. I’d had loving parents, a protective older brother, and an annoying younger sister. A sister I could gossip with, argue with, tease.

We’d lived in an idyllic, small town. I’d had life at my feet. I was going to go to college; I was going to get a corporate job. I’d be part of some high-flying, executive team, and wear cool suits.

God, that naïve girl felt a million miles away. Pushing myself upright, I walked over to the mini fridge and grabbed a Diet Coke. I cracked the can open, then dropped down on the saggy bed. It gave an alarming creak.

All those dreams were gone.

It felt like a faded, distant dream.

It had all started when my mom had gotten sick. She’d battled cancer and I’d given up my dream of going to college in California to help dad take care of her. I’d attended a smaller, local college instead. We’d lost her just after my brother Elliot enrolled in the military.

I squeezed my eyes closed, as pain and grief swamped me. My fingers clenched the soda can. I missed my mom. The vibrant woman who’d loved to bake and hum as she did chores. Grief filled me like an endless sea. It ebbed and flowed, and every now and then, a wave came from nowhere and crashed over me, dragging me under.

I sipped the drink and tasted nothing.

I’d thrown myself into caring for my sister. Viv had grieved by going off the rails. I’d watched her get wilder and wilder. Our mother had named us. She’d wanted elegant names for her girls. Georgiana and Vivienne. She’d never once called us Georgie and Viv.

I rubbed between my eyes, willing my headache to go away, and sighed. “Oh, Viv.” I’d tried to help her. Dad had been confused and had been no help at all. He was sure she was just going through a phase.

Then Elliot had died in Afghanistan.

Grief gripped me with sharp claws. That’s when my family had split at the seams. The loss of him on top of my mother hadbeen nearly debilitating. Dad died a year later of a broken heart. I’d finished college, but never gotten to live my dreams.

Nope, I’d learned that life didn’t grant me dreams. It just liked to kick me in the teeth.

I’d worked at the local bank to get by. Meanwhile, Viv had dreams of being a singer.

“I’m going to be a famous popstar, Georgie. You’ll see. One day, we’ll drive down Rodeo Drive in a limo, sipping pink champagne.”

The memory felt like a rock lodged in my stomach.

What Viv had gotten instead was a nightmare.

She’d been prey to the worst sort of predator. And now she was gone, too.

The grief of losing my sister was sharp and new, edged with fangs, and wrapped in guilt.

Oh, Viv.