“We’re working on it. I do love that man to distraction, even though sometimes I want to take a croquet mallet to his skull.”

Allie nodded and sipped her coffee.

“He’s been miserable since you left.” Mags tilted her head to the side.

“Nigel? Well, tell him to go golfing. That seems to cheer him up.”

“Allie, please.”

“I’m not going to talk about him. I can’t.” Tears clogged her throat. God, she was so stupid, falling in love with Trevor Blake, the man who never cared about anyone.

They sat in silence for some minutes. Allie took comfort in it. She sipped on her coffee and felt more alert than she had in days.

Soon, Frances walked into the room, bearing a tray and a big smile. Brynn trailed after her, a look of worry still etched on her face.

“French toast. Brynn said it’s your favorite.” She set the tray of the coffee table.

Allie lowered herself to the floor, and for the first time in days, her stomach grumbled. “Thank you, Frances.” Then she glanced around the room. “Does anyone want some?”

“You go ahead, darling.”

Allie tucked into her meal, but after a few bites, she dropped her fork. “I can’t taste it,” she said with a frown.

“What do you mean, Al? Are you getting a cold or something?” Brynn sat next to Mags on the saggy sofa.

“It’s the grief, Miss Allie.”

“Grief?”

“For Mr. Blake.”

She couldn’t bear to hear his name. Allie pushed the plate away. “Brynn, are you getting your homework done? Did you get all your assignments from you teachers?” She didn’t want to talk about Trevor. It was too painful.

Brynn rolled her eyes. “Yes, Al. But I’m missing two tests and can’t make them up, so I have to take a zero.”

“How’s that going to affect your GPA?”

“I think I’ll be all right.” Brynn stared at her nails and Allie could tell she had something else to say.

“What is it? What don’t you want to tell me?”

“Ms. Castor…Karen…broke up with Dad. He’s been really bummed about it.” She nibbled at her thumbnail.

“Brynn…”

She flung her hand down. “I just feel like it’s my fault, okay? If I hadn’t gotten in a fight, she wouldn’t have done it. And now he’s all sad, and you’re all sad, and Monica’s left Brad…” She covered her mouth with one hand.

Allie narrowed her eyes. “Monica’s left Brad? Where is she?”

“I’m not supposed to tell.” She bit her lip and rubbed her hands over her knees.

“It’s all right, love,” Mags said. “You need to tell us.”

“She’s going to be so pissed,” Brynn whispered.

“Brynn,” Allie said through gritted teeth.

“Fine. The douche kicked her out. I think he was mad because Trevor wouldn’t give her any money. She’s staying at this motel off Fremont Street.”

“Oh my God,” Allie muttered. “How long has she been there?”

Brynn shrugged. “A couple weeks.”

Allie hopped up from the floor and stalked toward her room. She came back wearing her rattiest tennis shoes and slung her purse over her shoulder.

“What are you doing, dearest?”

“Monica can’t stay there, it’s dangerous. I’m going to get her. Brynn, write down the name and room number.” She waited while Brynn scribbled it down.

Allie snatched the piece of notebook paper from Brynn’s hand and quickly scanned it.

Mags and Frances stood up. “You can’t go alone, darling. We’re coming with you.”

If anyone would be a target for mugging in that neighborhood, it was Mags, with her designer dress, expensive shoes, and Prada handbag. She’d attract more attention than Allie needed.

“I appreciate it, ladies. But I’ll be fine. You guys stay here. Brynn, do your homework. I’ll be back soon.” She rushed out the door before they could follow her. Mags would never be able to catch up in those stilettos.

Allie got in the car and started the ignition. She wanted to throttle her middle sister. She held tightly to the anger and annoyance. It was much better than the sad, hopeless feeling she’d been carrying around for the past five days.

She flipped on the radio as she sat in traffic and slowly made her way downtown. When she reached The Royal Flush motel, she climbed out of the car and looked over the two-story, rundown motor lodge with disgust. The Royal Flush was one of the few motels not attached to a casino. Allie glanced at the algae-coated pool and gave a little shudder. She couldn’t imagine what the rooms looked like.

She trotted to the second floor and tapped on the door. Monica answered, wearing a pair of white shorts and a pink tank top. “Not you too?”

Allie frowned. “What do you mean?”

Monica opened the door wider and Allie peeked inside. Trevor stared back at her.

***

“Allison.” God, how he had missed her. She looked as if she had lost some weight. She was thinner now than when she first came to live with him, and she had been too skinny then.

She looked at him with wide eyes and didn’t say a word.

“Well, are you coming in or what?” Monica asked.

Allie jerked her gaze from his. “Um, yeah.” She stepped inside the room. “Trevor, what are you doing here?”

He glanced at the white-knuckled death grip she had on her purse strap. She was as nervous as he was.

He thrust his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “I received a call from Brynn. I have a feeling my mother put her up to it.” And of course, he had jumped at the chance to see Allie. He missed her like he’d miss a severed limb. God, he hated her for that.

Allie’s eyes swept the room as she nibbled that full bottom lip. “I’d like to speak to my sister alone, please.”

He bristled at her cold tone. “I’m sorry, darling, were you talking to me or the floating nightstand?”

She glanced up at him then, anger flashing from her blue eyes. Good, anger he could deal with, but he hated it when she ignored him. “You, Trevor. I’m talking to you. I’d like you to leave so that I can speak to my sister. Is that clear enough for you?”

“Quite.” He didn’t take his eyes from her. “Monica, do you wish to speak to your sister alone?”

“Not particularly,” she mumbled.

Trevor shrugged. “There, you see?”

“Get out.”

He kicked the cold smile up a notch. “Make me.”

Taking a step toward him, she kept a tight hold on her purse strap, if not her composure. “Don’t tempt me. You know it’s really funny that you’re here—”

“Yes, I’m laughing uproariously.” He flicked an eyebrow.

“Because you were the one who accused me of interfering in your life. Now, here you are.” She pointed a finger at him. “Interfering.”

He stepped closer to her, his shins hitting the god-awful bed that stretched between them. “Your sister asked me to be here. It’s not the same thing.”

Tugging her purse off her shoulder, she dropped it on the bed. “It is the same thing. It is exactly the same thing.”

He glanced at the purse lying on the brown and orange swirls. If there was one natural fiber on the stained fabric, he’d eat it. “Do you know what’s on that bedspread?”

Allie turned to Monica. “Will you give us a few minutes?”

Monica leaned against the dresser and watched them with wary eyes. “Um, yeah. I’ll just go get a Coke or something.”

“We are going to talk, Mon. And if you decide to run off again, you don’t know what pissed looks like.”

“Okay, Al. Jeez.” She grabbed her purse, which was sitting on top of the dresser, and started for the door.

“Leave the purse, Monica,” Trevor said. He didn’t want to have to go on another wild-goose chase either.

“Oh my God, you two are so lame.” Despite her protests, she dropped her bag and held out her hand. “Got a couple of bucks?”

Trevor reached into his wallet and pulled out a twenty. “I saw a burger place across the street. Get yourself something to eat and be back here in thirty minutes. Understand?”

“And be careful,” Allie said. “This is a dangerous part of town.”