Page 7 of Cruelest Contract (Storm’s Eye Ranch)

There’s a couple in the water. His muscled arms are wrapped around her and they are kissing deeply, soulfully.

A stab of envy is unavoidable. There’s no one waiting for me at home except a hostile cat.

I can only fantasize about falling into strong arms while crying, “I had the shittiest day!” and then cuddling on the couch with cartons of impulsively ordered takeout food before being carried off to bed.

Instead, I’ve been dateless for two years. Sex is a vague, puzzling memory. And I’m not only unemployed but all this relentless desert sun reminds me that a brutal summer is on the way.

I feel the sweat sticking to the back of my neck as I juggle my purse, my water tumbler, my work tote and a cupcake box on the walk to my building.

Two girls sit on the stucco balcony railing one floor above my apartment. One girl swings her bare leg over the edge and there’s a blend of music and loud voices coming from inside. I wonder if any of them belong to the Porsche that stole my parking spot.

Normally such a minor issue wouldn’t make me feel so annoyed but this has been a rough day. I’m about one inconvenience away from going full Dark Alice and weaponizing a roll of tinfoil.

The door to my ground floor apartment opens too easily but this doesn’t really register right away. I’ve already stepped inside before I see the man sitting in the kitchen nook.

He’s silhouetted in the light seeping in through the slatted window blinds and I’m too shocked to scream. The cupcake box falls out of my hand.

People tend to believe they’ll have a surge of superhero bravery when faced with danger. I know all too well it doesn’t work that way.

But then I blink and a weight is lifted. I feel a smile lighting up my face.

My brother picked the perfect time for a surprise visit. We haven’t celebrated our birthday together in ages.

“Gabriel,” I squeal, ready to run to him for a hug.

“Nope.” He stands up and he’s not my twin. In the shadows, Gabe and Angelo happen to look a lot alike.

“What the hell are you doing here?” My smile has already been replaced with a scowl and I cross my arms.

Angelo switches on the kitchen light. “Don’t hurt yourself with that warm welcome.” He and Gabriel both have the same wavy dark brown hair and wiry build. Only our eldest brother Matthias inherited our father’s athletic height and broad shoulders.

There’s a bruise under Angelo’s right eye. No surprise. If there’s a fight happening within ten miles of his vicinity, Angelo will find it and dive right in. His black leather jacket isn’t appropriate for the desert in late spring. He’s wearing it for another reason, probably to conceal a gun.

I can’t remember the last time I saw Angelo. We don’t keep in touch. He was a violent kid. He’s grown into a far more violent man. Angelo has never dared to lay a hand on me but being in the same room with him still makes my skin crawl and I take an instinctive step backwards.

He notices and snorts with amusement. “What the hell are you so nervous about? If I was here to take you out then your brains would already be painting the wall.”

My heart hammers and my legs feel rickety but I try to look casual as I bend down and pick up the cupcake box. Angelo’s eyes follow me while I unload all my baggage on the breakfast bar.

“It was nice of you to stop by just to terrorize me, Angelo, but this needs to be a short visit. I have plans.”

Angelo moves closer, his eyes still fastened to me. I resist the urge to bolt for the front door.

A long, extremely uncomfortable moment passes before he starts chuckling.

“You don’t have fucking plans,” he scoffs. He pries open the bakery box without permission and flips the lid.

I watch as he extracts a red velvet cupcake. “Of course I have plans. It’s my birthday. My boyfriend will be here any minute.”

Angelo takes a large bite. “You don’t have a fucking boyfriend either.” He chews, swallows, and grimaces. “This tastes like stale cunt.” He fires the cupcake into the trashcan.

And here I thought he’d achieved maximum asshole status years ago.

Nope. Apparently there was room left to grow.

Also, I bet that stupid rental Porsche is his. It’s just like him to be flashy with zero manners.

With a sniff, I hold my head up. “I don’t remember updating you on my social life. And now that you’re finished vandalizing my dinner it’s time for you to leave. Like I said, I have plans.”

Angelo rolls his eyes and drags out a counter stool, taking a seat and surveying me coldly.

“Who do you think you’re kidding? You haven’t had a boyfriend in something like two years, not since that cheesedick from Boston got the memo he’d live longer if he scampered back to the east coast and lost your number. ”

My mouth falls open and blood roars between my ears. Words all melt together as I struggle to absorb what this means.

Brecken Doyle was a guy I originally met in an Intro to Finance class.

We were casual friends for a couple of years before any romance happened and after three months of exclusive dating I hoped we might be headed for something long term.

For weeks I’d been listing the pros and cons of telling him about the whole ugly history of my family.

But then Brecken basically ghosted me. He returned to his hometown outside Boston and changed all his contact information. He even ran out on his lease, leaving his roommate high and dry.

Alice, outraged on my behalf, offered to fly to Boston and give Brecken what she ominously referred to as ‘The Treatment’.

“It’s not you,” she assured me over and over while I blubbered on her sofa with a melting container of cherry vanilla ice cream. “It’s him.”

Wrong. Turns out it wasn’t him.

But it wasn’t exactly me either.

I give Angelo my most contemptuous glare. “Just how long have you been spying on me and interfering in my love life? Am I allowed to date anyone without your approval?”

He snorts out more laughter, rocking back and forth. “Like there’s been a parade of admirers breaking down your door. Fuck, are you stupid? Did you really think Grandfather wouldn’t keep an eye on you?”

If I was braver, if I was Alice, I might snatch my half full metal water bottle and fire it at Angelo’s head in a fit of rage.

Every one of my fleeting relationships skates through my mind. It doesn’t take long.

The engineering major who decided to transfer to a school in Alaska.

The bartender who was working his way through law school but then very abruptly opted to go backpacking across Europe, never to return.

And then poor hapless Brecken, who fled to Boston, presumably under threat of physical dismemberment.

Were they all chased away? Paid off? Threatened?

Probably.

While I’m fretting over the pathetic tatters of my love life, my eyes land on a small ceramic dish on the floor.

“Where is Louisa?” I ask.

Angelo’s eyes narrow and he reaches into his jacket to grab his gun. “Who the fuck is Louisa?”

“My cat, you idiot.” I drop to the floor and start looking under the furniture. “Tell me you didn’t leave the door open after you broke in.”

“Jesus. A damn cat.” Angelo stops grabbing for his gun and helps himself to the second cupcake in the box. That one is strawberry flavored with buttercream frosting and I was really looking forward to eating it.

But yelling at Angelo is a waste of time. Anyway, I’ve got bigger problems and I’m no longer in a cupcake-eating mood.

After a frantic ten second search, a reassuring hiss of fury comes from beneath the living room end table. Angry green eyes peer out from a ball of fluffy grey fur. A follow up hiss warns that she’ll declare war if I reach out my hand.

Satisfied that Louisa is safe, I climb to my feet and face my brother once more. He’s busy pigging out on my last cupcake. There’s pink frosting on his chin.

“Why are you really here?” I ask him.

He wipes the frosting away with the back of his hand and flings open the door of the fridge. “Figures there’s no fucking alcohol. Don’t know how you cope with this shitty existence without getting piss drunk every night.”

“Angelo! Just pretend you’re a normal person for a minute and answer my question.”

He shuts the fridge and gazes at me without a shred of compassion. Only boredom tinged with annoyance. “We’re not normal people. We’re the fucking Grimaldis.”

Every muscle goes rigid. Instant fear burns through my blood. Even if Angelo happened to be in the Phoenix area, he wouldn’t bother to visit.

No, he was sent here for a specific purpose. One that is too complicated to be handled with a phone call.

My grandfather is pushing eighty and has already suffered two strokes. I won’t dance with joy if his health has taken a turn for the worse but I won’t shed tears either. He never showed me a trace of love.

“Is Grandfather sick? Is Matthias on the run again?”

Angelo sighs and looks troubled for the first time. “The old man will probably outlive us all. And I have no clue what’s up with Matthias.”

I’m terrified to ask the next question. But if any harm had come to Gabe then I’d surely know. I’d feel it in my bones. Part of me would have died too.

“And Gabriel?” I ask, barely above a whisper.

He heaves another sigh and rakes a hand through his hair. “Look, I didn’t make this fucking mess. I’m just here to give you the terms to clean it up.”

“WHAT mess? Where is Gabe?”

Angelo’s bloodshot eyes keep shifting. “He’s laying low. He’s in San Diego and he’s safe. For now.”

For now???

Whatever that means, it isn’t good.

My mouth goes dry and all the air leaves my lungs. “I need to talk to him.”

Angelo reaches into his back pocket. Gabe hasn’t answered any of my messages lately so I’m a little surprised when he seems to pick up a call from Angelo on the first ring.

“Hey. Our sister wants proof of life.” Angelo passes the phone over and waits with obvious irritation.

I’m shaking as I whisper my twin’s name into the phone. “Gabe?”

“Cici.” He sounds terrible. Frightened. Exhausted.

Memories flood back at the sound of my childhood nickname. No one except Gabe calls me that anymore. I don’t let them.

Tears sting my eyes but I exhale with relief that he’s in one piece. Anything else I can handle. “Are you all right?”

“No,” he says. He coughs and gasps out a sob. “Cici, I’m in really deep fucking shit.”