“And tall trees are?” she said, her voice cracking.
His eyes glittered at her comeback.
He’s relishing this.
“So you do remember where he is.”
Jerry leaned back and shrugged. “Give it up, girl.” He looked over and jerked his head at the guard waiting in the back of the room. “I’m in a physical prison. The only payback I can give is to make sure you’re in an emotional prison.” He heaved himself out of the chair and shuffled to the door, his chains clanking.
Rowan frantically tried to think of something to say that would recapture his interest. Her mind was blank. She was in an emotional prison when it came to Malcolm.
She exhaled as the door closed behind him. “I got nothing,” she said out loud.
No. I stared him in the eye, and I wasn’t scared.
“That’s a win.”
30
“Those extensions are so obvious,” said Iris, pointing at the TV screen. “Her hair is naturally wavy, and the extensions are straight. And don’t get me started on how wrong the shade is.”
“She should get her money back,” agreed Ivy.
Rowan stared at the woman’s hair. She couldn’t see it.
On the reality show, the woman raised her champagne glass and pretended to be excited as she made a toast by the mansion’s pool with a dozen other people. Then the show jumped forward to a slow-motion scene of the group dancing as they laughed and looked perfect, appearing to have the time of their lives.
“So fake,” muttered Ivy. “Each one of them has been directed to act as happy and thrilled as possible. No one has that sort of amazing dance party with just a dozen people.” She glared at the screen and took another handful of potato chips from the big bowl in front of the three sisters.
“It’s all staged,” agreed Iris.
No matter how much they complained, Rowan knew her sisters would watch every episode of the reality show, picking apart the outfits and makeup.
Rowan couldn’t judge; she was just as guilty.
It’d become a weekly get-together. The three of them would gather and catch up on the multiple episodes that had come out that week, hopelessly addicted to the UK show about gorgeous twentysomethings living together in a mansion. It was packed with deception, romance, bare skin, and awkward conversations.
The sisters couldn’t get enough.
Tonight they’d gathered at Ivy’s little house. Her son, West, was spending the night with his grandparents, and Ivy had picked up six Italian meals from a restaurant downtown. She always bought more than was needed for the three of them, saying she and West were happy to eat Italian food for the rest of the week. It was a form of grocery shopping for her.
The delicious food had been attacked and the leftovers put away in the fridge two hours ago. The sisters had moved on to cookies, chips, and ice cream to watch the fourth episode of the evening.
Thor hopped off the couch from beside Rowan and paced through the kitchen. Rowan watched him out of the corner of her eye as she focused on the ridiculous kissing contest on TV. One woman was kissing every one of the blindfolded men as they tried to guess who she was.
“Gross. Bacteria. Spit. Now shared between all of them,” stated Iris. Out of the sisters, she talked the most during the show, often stating the obvious.
Thor growled. He’d stopped at the door to Ivy’s backyard and shoved his snout between the closed drapes and the glass.
“Does he need to go out?” Ivy paused the show.
“He just went,” said Rowan, levering herself off the couch and feeling the pasta shift in her belly. “He did the same thing at my place yesterday. Do you have coyotes or anything?”
“Every house in this neighborhood has tall fences and little yards,” said Ivy. “Coyotes would be trotting down the street out front—which I have seen. Would he growl if a cat was wandering around?”
“No, he loves cats for some weird reason.”
Rowan pushed the curtain aside to see into the dark backyard. Something tall darted out of her vision, and she caught her breath. “Ivy, there’s someone in your backyard. He just ran to the far end of the house. Are your doors and windows locked?” She flipped the door’s lock.
Her sisters simultaneously got to their feet, and Ivy went pale. Iris dashed to the front door. “This one’s locked.”
“Are your windows locked?” Rowan repeated, staring at Ivy. Her sister seemed unable to speak.
“I don’t know,” she finally said.
“Turn on all the outdoor lights,” ordered Rowan, flicking the switch by the door. “Scare him off.”