Grace's stomach lurched and she started shaking her head again.
"I have to go," she mumbled.
As she began walking blindly, she felt the rain flowing down her face. Or it might have been tears.
Calla Lily.
Her father's voice echoed in her head.
She'd gone a couple of yards when she paused and looked back.
The woman was staring after her, looking small underneath the slicker.
That coat was not expensive, Grace thought. Just a cheap, plastic rain jacket. And her shoes were old, serviceable. She wasn't dressed like someone who had money.
Was she looking to contest the will? Was she really just after some cash?
Grace thought of John. He could find out exactly who the woman was and sniff out whether she was someone with ulterior motives.
"It's cold out here," Grace said. "Do you live nearby?"
"Not really. My apartment's in Chelsea."
Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, Grace thought. Words to be damned by.
"Then come back with me and get dry."
Blue eyes regarded her warily. "Are you sure?"
No, she wasn't.
Grace nodded anyway and Callie approached with caution.
"You're bleeding," she said, pointing with alarm.
Grace glanced down at herself. She could see the scrape on her leg through a tear in the sweatpants. Blood was staining her running shoes.
That should probably be hurting, she thought. Funny, she felt nothing at all.
"Are you sure you can walk?" Callie asked. "I can get us a cab."
"I'll be fine."
Whenever this horror movie of a life of mine stops adding new scenes. And new characters.
They went back to the street together, moving slowly in spite of the rain because Grace was limping.
"You really didn't know, did you?" Callie said softly. “I'd always wondered if you might have guessed. It must be really hard to find out... It's been twenty-seven years and I still find the whole thing difficult to deal with."
Hearing Callie's age set off another cascade of anger. Twenty-seven years. Her father had been living a lie for over a quarter century. He'd made them all live a lie.
Grace thought bitterly back to that lecture of his on the importance of staying with Ranulf. He'd even thrown in a line about the significance of the vows they'd taken, a comment that was now harder to stomach than his recitations of the von Sharone family's prominence. Courtesy of Callie chasing her down, his words stank with hypocrisy and Grace found herself wanting those three extra months she'd spent with Ranulf back.
As well as all those years she'd believed her father was an honorable man.
When they stepped under the awning of Grace's building, Callie paused and shook the rain out of her jacket and her hair. Looking uncomfortable, she followed Grace inside, her eyes moving over the uniformed man who opened the door for them, the luxurious lobby, the brass and glass elevator.
"This is a beautiful building," she murmured as they rode up to the top floor.
When they stepped out of the elevator, Grace frowned. Her front door was wide open and an unfamiliar blond man, who was big as a linebacker and dressed in black, was standing in her front hall. When he caught sight of her, his smile wasn't friendly.
"I believe your countess is back," he said dryly.
John exploded into the doorway and Grace took an involuntary step back. He was livid with rage.
"Where the hell did you go?" he bellowed.
She had to fight the urge not to get back on the elevator and disappear again.
Clearing her throat, she said very quietly, "I went out for a run. I'm sorry I didn't come and get you—"
"What the f*ck were you thinking!" He jabbed his forefinger at her. "You don't go anywhere without me. That's our agreement. You want to tell me what the f*ck was going through your head?"
She glanced back at Callie, who seemed to be trying to melt into the wall. Grace didn't blame her.
"You need to calm down," she whispered to John. "Everything is fine."
"Yeah, everything is just fine. I'll go call off the police now and tell all my men to go home because everything is a-okay. No f*cking problem, Countess." As he marched back into the living room, he put his phone to his ear and started talking in short, angry bursts.
"Maybe this isn't the best time," Callie said softly.
"No, he'll calm down."
Hopefully, she added to herself.
As Grace stepped inside, she saw three other men in her living room, all tall, wide-shouldered guys in dark clothes.
They looked like some kind of military squad even though they weren't wearing uniforms. When their eyes settled on her all at once, she felt like a kid who'd violated curfew.
Or an agitator who needed to be eliminated.
"Hello," she said to the group.
The man who'd been at the door when they'd arrived, the handsome blond one, barely inclined his head. The rest showed no response at all.
John clipped his phone shut and addressed them. "Marks and his boys are turning around and heading back to the station. Thanks for coming."
"Glad she showed," said the blond one. He shot John a sardonic grin. "Otherwise we were going to hog-tie you to a chair before you hurt yourself."
"F*ck you, Tiny."
Tiny threw a beefy arm around John and grabbed him on the back of the neck, giving him a shake. In a much lower voice, he said, "You okay?"
John said something under his breath and Grace watched as the two men's eyes met and held.
"Okay, we're outta here, ladies," Tiny said to the men. As they walked past her, he paused and said, "Do us all a favor, Countess, and stick close to home, will ya?"
"Good-bye, Tiny," John said with warning.
The man rolled his eyes and smiled over his shoulder.
"If I keep talking to her, you gonna start calling me Itty-Bitty?"
Tiny waved over his shoulder as he led the men out the door.
Grace looked at John. He had his hands on his hips and he was staring at the floor. His jaw was rigid.
Callie spoke up. "Look, I really think I should go."
John's head snapped upright. "Who the hell are you?"
"This is Callie," Grace offered. “My—er... half-sister."
John's eyes narrowed on the woman. "I didn't know you had one."
"Neither did she," Callie answered.
"Well, welcome to the goddamn family. I'll talk to you later," John said to Grace before heading down the hall.
"Will you excuse me?" Grace said quickly as she went after him.
She was right on his heels when he stopped her in front of his room. "You need to get the hell away from me until I calm down."
With that, he shut the door in her face.
Grace released a breath.
As she returned to the living room, she regretted bringing Callie back with her, especially because she should have known how upset John was going to be.
She was just making bad call after bad call today.
"Would you like to take your jacket off?" she asked the woman.
Callie's eyes were somber as she shrugged the raincoat from her shoulders. She put it over her arm, holding it close to her body even though it was wet.
"Here, let me have that." Grace noted that Callie's damp clothes were clean but not fashionable and that she wore no jewelry of any kind.
When she turned around from the closet, Callie was standing over the picture of Grace with their father. As she picked up the frame, Grace's heart contracted.
Damn him, she thought.
"Ah—I'm going to go take a shower," she said in a strained voice. "Would you like some clothes to change into?"