Catherine Alexander was still a beautiful woman.

I could see why my father had wanted to marry her. Of course, he married her when she’d been a beautiful girl, but Papa had never much cared about boundaries.

He only cared about power and status, and to him, a beautiful young wife might have seemed like a sign of both. It must have really sucked for him when she ran away.

I couldn’t help but smirk inwardly as she told her story – not because of what she’d gone through. I had nothing but sympathy there, especially considering my father was looking to put Joelle through something similar. But the thought that at twenty-two, she’d decided to just leave.

She’d had a young child, and she’d still had the courage to just leave.

“Was it hard?” I asked her as she finally stopped speaking, staring down in the tea she’d poured for all of us earlier.

The clock was ticking. In less than twenty minutes, Joelle would be back out front, and while I had answers to my questions, things still felt…unfinished.

“It was. Twenty-two, trying to raise a boy on my own?” She shrugged, reaching over to brush her fingers down Nicco’s arm. “But staying would have been harder. I didn’t want Nicco to grow up in that life. I couldn’t stay in that life. I had too much respect for myself. And leaving was the best thing I could do, not just for myself, but for my son.” She shot him a smile.

He didn’t return it, but I think it was because he was more focused on me.

“Are you going to tell us why you’re here?” he asked, his blue-gray eyes penetrating.

“I…” My heart lurched up into my throat as both he and his mother focused on me. I felt like I was under a microscope now, being all but dissected by their insightful gazes. What did I tell them?

The truth, a small voice inside me whispered. What is the point in lying here?

And wasn’t that the bitch of it?

If anybody would understand, it would be somebody like Catherine, who’d run from the life I was trying to escape, the life I was trying to save my sister from.

Squaring my shoulders, I met her gaze levelly. “I have a sister,” I said calmly. “She’s my half-sister. My mother died when I was very young. Papa goes through wives the way some people go through shoes.” Curling my lip, I tossed my hair over my shoulder before continuing. “Joelle, my sister, is five years younger than me, but sometimes, it feels like more. She’s just…” Lifting a hand, I floundered for the right word and finally settled on the only one that seemed to fit. “She’s innocent. Sweet. Life hasn’t hurt her…yet. But Papa decided she’s old enough to get married, and he’s promised her to one of the biggest bastards in the clan.”

Nicco’s jaw went tight, his eyes going cloudy, while Catherine passed a hand over her eyes. “Oh, honey,” she murmured sympathetically. “Is there anything we can do? How can we help?”

“We’ve already run away,” I said in a flat voice. “She’s out driving around right now. I’ll drive us both to the police and let her go to foster care before I let that bastard Ephraim get his hands on her.”

“Ephraim,” Catherine whispered. Her face paled.

I slanted a look at her. “You know him.”

“Yes.” She nodded, the motion jerky and uneven. “He was a bastard thirty-years ago. I don’t expect that’s changed.”

“No.”

She leaned forward and covered my hand with hers. “Come stay with us. Gabriel won’t try to intimidate me. He knows he can’t,” she said. “We can help. We can protect you.”

Some part of me wanted to say yes. The thought of having somebody else to count on was…it was almost overwhelming, but in the end, the thought of trusting somebody else was more than I could handle.

“No.” Shaking my head, I said quietly, “We’ll take care of each other.”

“I’d like to get to know you,” Nicco said, his voice almost gentle. “Both of you. I’ve always wondered if I had any brothers or sisters. Finding out that I have…” He shrugged, a smile crooking his lips. “Well, I’d like for us to be whatever kind of family we can.”

I laughed hollowly, unable to stop it. “Family. Family doesn’t mean much to me, Nicco. I’m sorry, but it doesn’t.”

He inclined his head. “I can understand that, but not everybody is like your father.”

“He’s your father too,” I pointed out.

“He’s a sperm donor,” Nicco countered. “There’s more to being a father than helping fertilize an egg, and that’s about all he did for me. Chances are, he didn’t do much more for you and Joelle either.”

The bitch of it was that I couldn’t even deny it.

My phone buzzed, and I looked down, seeing Joelle’s name flash up across the screen. I hadn’t even realized how much time had passed.

“She’s here,” I said dully. Rising, I looked from Catherine to Nicco.

Catherine tried once more. “Stay here,” she urged. “We can help.”

“I’ve got to get my sister out of the state. I want to go someplace where nobody has ever even heard of my family.” Laughing bitterly, I added, “I want to go someplace where the idea of a psychic on every street corner isn’t a reality. I want something normal for me and my sister.”

“What’s normal?” Nicco asked.

His question was so calmly delivered, so neutrally stated that I wanted to rip out my hair. What was normal? How was I to know?

Looking around the brightly lit living room with its pretty pieces of art and its comfortable couch and chairs, I shook my head. Was this normal?

“I wouldn’t know normal if it bit me on the ass,” I said bluntly.

My phone buzzed again.

Tightening my hand on the plastic casing, I looked from Catherine to Nicco. “I should go.”

Nicco took a step toward me, looking torn. “Will you at least keep in touch?” He held a business card in his hand.

I wanted to tell him no.

I wanted to tell him yes.

“I’ll think about it,” I allowed, taking the card from him.

Then I turned on my heel and strode for the door. Sitting out in the driveway, unaware that she had a half-brother watching us from the doorway, Joelle waited in the car for me.

When she saw me, she slid from the driver’s seat and walked around the car. Halfway there, she paused, her eyes lingering on my face. She came to me instead of getting in the car, reaching out to pull me into a hug. “What’s wrong?” she asked, whispering the question into my ear.

“Nothing. I was just…” I hesitated, uncertain how to answer the question. “I don’t know. I was hoping to figure something out. And I didn’t.”

“You will.” Joelle sounded sure and certain, and I wanted to laugh.

I hadn’t been sure and certain about anything in so long, it was almost laughable.

But if she could believe in me, I could fake it.

I took a deep breath. “Bet your ass I will.”