The house was empty.

I’d been waiting there for too long already, and Camry was either ignoring me on purpose, or she was so strung out she didn’t know I’d been texting her.

Of course, it was possible she was passed out.

Drunk.

Or maybe she’d overdosed…

“Stupid bastard, just stop it already.” I groaned and rubbed my hands up and down my face, as if it would scrub the images from my brain. I couldn’t do that though.

I’d been dealing with these nightmarish thoughts ever since I realized just how bad Camry’s drug problem was. Sooner or later, she would either be forced to get clean, or she would end up dead. These things never ended well, a fact I’d been adjusting to for longer than I liked to admit.

Shit, what if she was inside there and she was strung out…or worse?

“Camry!” I practically threw myself at the door, banging on it so hard, it was a wonder it didn’t rattle on its hinges.

There was no answer though.

Spinning away, I paced down to the window and stared inside, hands cupped around my face to block out the light. It didn’t do any good. I couldn’t see a damn thing thanks to the layer of dirt coating the window.

I slammed a fist into the wall. A faint pain splintered through my hand, but I ignored it as I turned around and braced my back against the building.

A car came rolling by, thick black smoke blowing out the back, and I could feel the eyes of the occupants roaming over me, sizing me up. Like any big city, Las Vegas had its fair share of bad neighborhoods. This was definitely one of them.

I stared back, waiting until the driver took a right and disappeared. Then I shoved away from the house and jumped over the mostly broken porch, walking around the house, looking for some sign that Camry was here, or recently had been. The house was a boarded-up wreck, and if anybody had lived here in recent memory, they probably needed to be tested for shit like tetanus and anthrax…and who knows what. There was no way anybody could live in a dump like this and not get sick.

Of course, Camry hadn’t told me she lived here.

She’d said to meet her here.

And that had been...I checked the time. Over an hour ago.

What the hell was I doing still waiting around here?

“I’m fucking done.”

I’d had it.

I gave another look around the house. I’d give her one more call and maybe another to that ass Stefano, then I was going back to the hotel.

“Where are you?” I demanded when her voicemail came on. It wasn’t her, of course, and that just made me even angrier. “I’m done with your bullshit and tricks. This is enough, Camry. I’m done.”

Then I tried calling Stefano. I gave him a similar version of the message I left Camry, although I was a lot less polite.

Then, without bothering to give the hellhole behind me another look, I headed for the sidewalk. I was going to find a bus stop and get back to the hotel.

* * *

By the time I reached my destination, I was hotter than hell, frustrated and tired.

But I was ready to see Piety.

Except…when I let myself into the room, she was gone.

The room was quiet, and judging from the looks of things, housekeeping had come and gone. I moved through the suite in silence, hoping she was resting or something. She had seemed tired the past few days, but no.

I was alone.

Pulling out my phone, I sent her a text, then flung myself down on the couch and threw my arm over my eyes. I was trying to work up the energy to take a shower, then maybe scrounge and see what sort of food was in the pantry. There had to be something, although I doubted the cheese, fruit, and crackers would fill the hole in my gut.

I could order room service, but I never felt right doing that without Piety being here.

Just as I went to sit up and drag my tired arse off to the shower, the phone rang.

I grabbed it, thinking it was Piety. Or maybe Camry. A few hours too late. But Sam Westmoreland’s name flashed across the screen. I blew out a breath and pinched the bridge of my nose. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to talk to Astra’s lawyer, but I’d have to get over that.

There was a second ring, then a third.

“Hello.”

“Kaleb, Sam Westmoreland here. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing alright,” I said, lying through my teeth.

And he heard it. “You sure about that?”

“Well, if you want the truth…” I paused, then decided against it. “I could tell you how I really am, but you don’t have all night, and I was just starting to mellow out. What can I do for you, Sam?”

But he wasn’t ready to let it drop. “You sure you don’t want to talk about it? Might help. Not to mention, it’s all confidential.”

“Shit. What the hell.” I sighed and gave him a quick rundown of what happened with my sister, leaving out the more personal details between Piety and me.

“You know she’s sick.” Sam’s voice was gentle and understanding.

I didn’t want any of it.

“Yeah, I got that memo. She’s sick. And I know she did this to herself. I know she’s an addict, but she chose this life, and I’m tired of being understanding. Tired of trying to help her turn her life around when all she wants to do is fuck over me and anybody else who cares about her.” The anger in my voice caught me off-guard but I couldn’t undo it, couldn’t stop it. Didn’t want to. “I’m just tired of it.”

“I bet you are. I can’t imagine how hard this is.” He was quiet a moment, then added softly, “Maybe you need to talk to somebody about it.”

I scoffed, but he cut me off.

“I’m serious. The families of addicts have a harder time than a lot of people realize. You had an even harder time because you’ve been trying to be a parent to her as well as dealing with your own shit. You never had a chance to finish growing up yourself, Kaleb.”

The words made me uncomfortable, and I chose to focus on something else. “Tell me something, counselor. Is it typical for an attorney to tell his clients to get counseling to get his shit together?”

“More common than you know. Sometimes I feel like a teacher, a bouncer, and a playground monitor all rolled into one – and a counselor.” He laughed. “We do what we have to, Kaleb. But listen, none of this is why I called. I assume you know about the annulment papers.”

Those few simple words soured my mood even further.

Sam did not wait for my response.

“Piety signed them also. At the time, I believe she thought it was what you wanted. The annulment got finalized today.”

“I understand.” She was under the impression I’d gone and blackmailed her parents, so of course, she thought it was what I wanted. But it wasn’t. I was tempted to shout that into the receiver, to yell at him, convince him, somebody, anybody…Piety…that I didn’t want the fucking annulment.

But, how could I?

Too late anyway now.

Besides, the whole thing had been a joke and a jab at her parents and a job for me. There was no way anybody, especially us, could take it seriously.

So what if it felt serious?

So what if it felt more real than anything I’ve ever felt?

It didn’t matter…did it?

Yes…

A small, sly voice in the back of my mind whispered to me.

It felt very real, and it mattered very much.

But I kept all of that trapped inside me, locked away.

Sam must have picked up on some of my tension, and an awkward silence stretched out over the next few seconds.

He cleared his throat. “I do have other news. I think we might have a solution for the situation with your sister and her abuse problem. It would entail you both moving to Philadelphia so we can do what we need to in order to help her. Would that present much of a problem for you?”

“Move to Philadelphia,” I murmured. Walking to the window, I looked out at the city. Even now, with evening approaching, the unrelenting heat was pounding down, and I could see little heat mirages off in the distance. Beyond the buildings, the earth was scorched, dried and brown. Leave Vegas? “No. No, sir. Nothing here would present a problem.”

Then I pondered about my sister.

She might present one, but if I had to, I’d just knock her out and drag her ass into the back of my car if I had one.