Beauty In Her Madness (Winterland Tale #3) - Stacey Marie Brown Page 0,14

it wasn’t filled with this lustful desire I saw with my sister.

Alice and Matt were nymphos. I mean, they couldn’t get through an evening visit without screwing each other in the bathroom, outside, laundry room, or in her old bedroom. Sometimes several times before dinner. Even when they were across the room from each other, you could still feel the connection between them like spiderwebs.

It was strange because I didn’t really remember them dating. They were suddenly together. In love. He was not someone you could forget; the man walked into the room and absorbed everything. He had that thing about him, but my first time meeting him at my family’s Christmas party was hazy. I heard his wife had died, though my gut kept flipping around the notion he had been there with someone and his little boy, Tim. Tragically, the boy died, which seemed all blurry and off to me too.

“I’m working a double.” Scott drew my attention back to him. He finished buttoning his shirt, tucking it into his pants. “So don’t wait up.”

“Oh.” Droplets of anxiety dripped into my belly. “I was kind of hoping to see you tonight. Actually spend some time together.”

“We can do something tomorrow night.”

“I work a double tomorrow.”

“Well, maybe during the week then.” He climbed back on the bed, giving my cheek a kiss. “Stay focused on our goal, right?” He grinned.

“Right.” I nodded, forcing a smile on my lips.

“I love you,” he called, already out of the room.

“Love you too.” The front door slammed, my words getting lost.

Silence seeped in around me, unsettling me. I was scared to be left alone, hearing voices and seeing things I knew didn’t exist. I didn’t even believe in ghosts, but damn, I wished it was the reason and not because some weak link in my brain was making me see holiday spirits.

Today was my only day off before another four days of doubles at the cottage, then school would be back in session.

Being alone today made my heart thump in my chest. My parents were always happy to see me, but there was just one person I wanted to see. A craving as though she were calling to me, that she could help me make it all better.

I needed my sister.

More than three hours later, I stepped out into the hustle and bustle of the New York streets. It was loud and chaotic, and you felt if you didn’t practically run, you’d be trampled to death, then hit by a taxi. Yelling, honking, sounds of jackhammers, the frantic boorish energy slapped me in the face and frazzled my nerves.

Alice loved it here, enjoyed the excitement and energy of the city, while I preferred the quiet small town. Calm, clean, and orderly. New York never turned off.

Greenwich Village, the wealthy and coveted address, was in the heart, but with the tree-lined brownstone houses, it felt slightly apart from the extreme craziness. Families, cafes, bars, and parks made this prime real estate, which somehow my sister got a slice of.

The day had grown overcast and frigid. I wrapped deeper into my winter coat, a beanie covering my ears, breath billowing from my mouth. I walked up to Alice’s shop; their apartment was above the hat shop. I stared at her lit-up sign. Alice and the Hatter glittered and moved like it was really being poured into the top hat, the scarf moving like it was blowing in the wind.

Seeing the top hat still sparked anxiety as I recalled the time Alice sat in her room, drawing them over and over and coloring them with her own blood. To me, the hat represented the decline of her mind. It was when everything changed—the start of her madness—but she seemed to have the opposite feeling. I had no idea what attracted her to them so much, but she wasn’t the only one. It was the biggest seller in her store. Celebrities from the neighborhood buying them drew attention from all over the world to her shop. Her Instagram already had a million followers.

Pausing, I took in the bakery attached to the store. I hadn’t been here since it opened last April. The White Rabbit, with the tag line It’s always teatime swirling around a teacup, was next to the hat shop. A line formed out the door in the icy weather, people braving the elements to wait for the delicious treats.

Turning for the first door, the bell chimed as I stepped in, the store fuller than I