Fortune (17 page)

T
hat night, Chance didn't come home alone. He brought that Cindy girl home with him.

Skye glared at the other girl, hating her on sight. She had long, curly blond hair, blue eyes and a pretty, pink mouth. And breasts. Serious ones. Ones that made what Skye had look like anthills.

Skye narrowed her eyes and folded her arms across her embarrassingly small chest. At least
she
didn't laugh like a hyena, Skye thought. At least
she
didn't toss her head when she talked like some sort of demented, bubbleheaded Barbie doll.

Chance introduced Skye as his kid sister. As if that wasn't bad enough, he told her to take a couple slices of pizza and get lost.

Kid sister!
Skye fumed silently.
Get lost?
She faced him, angrily jutting out her chin. “What if I don't want to? You can't make me.”

Cindy giggled; Chance's mouth dropped. “What did you say?”

“I said, you can't make me.”

“Oh yes, I can. Don't push me, Skye.” He lowered his voice and leaned toward her, not stopping until they were nose to nose. “I would hate to embarrass you by
spanking
you in front of Cindy. But I will. Now, I said to get lost.”

Furious, Skye spun away from him. She stomped across to the kitchen, got her pizza and a drink, the entire time slamming and flinging and generally being as loud and obnoxious as she could be.

Chance whispered something to Cindy, who giggled. Skye gritted her teeth and marched to the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

She flopped onto the bed and gulped down her pizza. It wasn't fair. How could he bring that hyena-girl home with him? How? This was her home, and she didn't want that girl here. Didn't she have any say about anything at all?

Skye decided she hated Chance. Despised him. The only one she hated more was that stupid girl.

Skye went to the door, cracked it open and peeked out, expecting to see the two eating and talking. Instead, they were cuddled up together on the couch, nearly in each other's lap. They were talking softly and nuzzling each other.

Then, as she watched, Chance kissed Cindy. Not the way Kevin had kissed her, but deeply, with his whole mouth. Indeed, it was as if he was kissing her with his whole body.

Skye swallowed hard, unable to tear her gaze away. Chance tangled his hand in Cindy's hair, cupping the back of her head, bending her backward, pressed tightly to her. They broke apart, then came together. Again and again.

It was just as she had fantasized today, Skye realized, her cheeks hot. Only it wasn't
her
Chance was kissing. It wasn't
her
Chance was touching.

Skye squeezed her hands so tightly into fists that her short nails bit into her palms. She shook her head, telling herself to make a sound to break them apart, or to lower her eyes, but she couldn't find her voice, she couldn't force her gaze away.

Chance moved his hands to Cindy's ample chest. He cupped and stroked; with a husky murmur of satisfaction Cindy eased out of his grasp and yanked her short sweater over her head.

Her bra was pink and lacy; her breasts spilled slightly over the top. Skye folded her arms across her own chest, aching to look like Cindy, to have a pretty pink bra and breasts that spilled over it.

Chance touched Cindy's breasts, then cupped them, whispering something Skye couldn't make out. They kissed again. And again.

Then he kissed
them.

Breathing hard, fighting tears, Skye jerked her gaze away. She hated Cindy, Skye decided. She hated her completely. She wished she were dead.

And she wasn't going to put up with this a minute longer.

Skye flounced out of the bedroom. The couple sprang apart, Cindy with a cry of embarrassment. The girl grabbed her sweater and clutched it to her chest.

“Oh, excuse me,” Skye said, snickering. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Dammit, Skye!” Chance jumped to his feet, his face red, “I told you to go to the bedroom. Now, get out of here.”

She glared at him. “And I told you, I don't have to if I don't want to.”

“You are such a brat. I swear, Skye, if you don't get lost I'm going to beat you!”

“Yeah, right. I'm really scared.”

Cindy yanked on her sweater and stood. “Maybe I should go.”

“No, Cindy. Wait.” He caught the girl's hand. “Let me talk to—”

“Yes, why don't you leave,” Skye interrupted him, sending the other girl a venomous look. “I don't want you here.”

“Shut up, Skye.”

He took a menacing step toward her; Skye held her ground, jerking her chin up. “Let her go. She's just a slut.”

Cindy gasped. The veins in Chance's neck bulged.

“I don't have to take this.” Cindy grabbed her purse and started for the door.

“Cindy, wait.” Chance hurried after her. “I'm sorry. She's only a kid and I…I don't know what's gotten into her. She's not usually like this. I don't—”

“Forget it.” Cindy flung the purse over her shoulder. “I'm not going to stick around and take that from some snot-nosed kid. I'm out of here.”

“I'm not a snot-nosed kid!” Skye called after the girl, pleased with herself, certain the hyena-girl wouldn't be back. She brushed her hands together. Good riddance to bad rubbish.

Skye's satisfaction was short-lived. Chance came back inside, slamming the trailer door behind him, his expression murderous. “Thanks a lot!” he shouted, advancing on her, hands curled into fists. “I was having a good time. Thanks for blowing it for me.”

“Well, I wasn't having a good time.” Skye hiked up her chin. “So I got rid of her.”

“She'll probably never talk to me again, and it's all because you decided to become the kid-sister-from-hell.” He stopped before her. “I really liked her.”

Skye snorted with contempt. “What
exactly
did you like about her? Her big boobs? Or her bottle-blond hair?” She sniffed. “I bet those boobs are as phony as her hair.”

Chance stared at her as if she had sprouted horns. He shook his head. “What's gotten into you? Where did you learn to talk like that?”

“Wouldn't you like to know?”

“I'm going to spank you, you little brat.”

Skye didn't give him the chance. She launched herself at him, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard, trying to emulate the way he had kissed Cindy.

Chance stumbled backward, his hands closing around her upper arms, pushing her away. “Skye, what the—”

“I can kiss, too,” she murmured. “I'm a girl.” She tightened her arms and tried to kiss him again.

He tore himself free, ripping her arms from around his neck. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, his expression disgusted. “You're just a kid. How could you…that's…gross. Don't ever do that again. Ever.”

Skye stared at him, realizing what she had done, realizing how he had reacted, his brutal rejection sinking in completely.

She took a step backward, going hot, then icy, clammy cold. She disgusted him. He thought kissing her was gross. He thought she was a gross, disgusting little kid.

“I hate you,” she said. “I hate you!”

Bursting into tears, she turned and raced to the bedroom, closed and locked the door, then flung herself across the bed.

She heard him swear. A moment later the trailer's front door slammed shut so hard the trailer rocked.

T
he next morning Chance left for work without saying goodbye to Skye. He didn't know what to say to her, and even if he had, he didn't trust himself to actually look her in the eye and speak to her. He couldn't stop thinking about what had transpired the night before—about the horrible way she had acted, the things she had said to Cindy, then to him, but most of all, he couldn't stop thinking about the way she had flung herself against him and kissed him.

He shuddered, remembering. What had she been thinking? Holy shit, she was just a kid. She shouldn't even be thinking about those kind of things, let alone…let alone acting on them.

He sliced open a case of canned soup, then set it on a loading cart. He frowned and split open another case. She had completely surprised him. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought about kissing her. It wasn't right. She was like his sister. His kid sister.

Chance let out a long, frustrated breath. His response had hurt her feelings, but what had she expected? Jesus, it
was
gross. He couldn't have Skye kissing him. He couldn't have her thinking
that
kind of stuff about him. Surely last night had been a freakish, one-time thing. She had seen him and Cindy making out, she had been jealous and had wanted him to pay attention to her instead. She had thought she had to do
that
to get his attention.

He never should have sent her to her room. He should have let her hang out with him and Cindy. After all, the poor kid had been alone all day. If he'd let her hang out with them a while, she wouldn't have felt left out and Cindy would still be talking to him.

He stacked another case on the cart, slamming it down so hard the cans shook. Damn but he had been having a good time. Until Skye had pulled her little-sister-from-hell routine, anyway.

Cindy. Damn.
She had been teasing him for weeks now, flirting, then backing off, coming on to him again, then backing off again.

He had been horny enough to bust. So, when she had suggested coming over to his place, he hadn't thought about anything but getting his hands on her. And those few minutes when he'd actually had his hands on her had been pure bliss.

Of course, now Cindy thought he was a creep-geek and refused to even speak to him. He might as well live in the past, because he was damn sure the future didn't hold another taste of Cindy Ferguson's chest.

Just fucking great.

Chance made a sound of disgust and checked his watch.
Noon, finally.
He tossed down the box cutter and headed for the time clock. He would grab a sandwich from the deli department, then head home to check on Skye. Just to make sure she was okay. Just to make sure she didn't do anything dumb.

And if he could find the right words and a way to get her to listen to him, he would apologize for hurting her feelings, then firmly explain the facts of life to her.

They didn't have
that
kind of a relationship. They never would. Period.

He punched out, grabbed a couple of turkey sandwiches and a bag of chips from the deli, and headed outside. As per employee regulations, he had parked at the very back of the lot. Taylor's grocery was a small affair, just like the town of Boyton. It was located on the corner of the original downtown square, an area now populated mostly by businesses and transients.

Most of Boyton's families had moved to the eastern edge of town, into one of the several subdivisions that had sprung up in the last five years. A sleek new supermarket, at least three times the size of Taylor's, had sprung up with them. Old man Taylor had hung on by offering specialty and homemade items that a chain supermarket could not. He also made it a point to know the name of everyone who shopped at his store, whether they came in to pick up a quart of milk on the way home from work or to do their weekly shopping.

He was a smart man. Chance had learned a lot about earning customer loyalty from watching him.

Chance started toward his car, unwrapping the first sandwich and eating as he went. A commotion from across the street caught his attention. Bev, the owner of one of the three dress shops in Boyton, was on the sidewalk in front of her store, waving her fist and shouting something at a group of teenagers.

Chance took another huge bite of his sandwich, polishing it off. Street kids. Runaways. Chance shook his head. Boyton had a collection of them, they came into the grocery store in big groups. When they did, Taylor had everybody quit what they were doing to follow them around, certain they were stealing him blind. Since Chance had started on, however, they'd only caught one kid. He had been trying to make off with a bag of cookies, a package of bologna and a loaf of bread. The bread had been his downfall. It had slipped halfway out from under his coat when he was walking out of the store.

As he watched the commotion, one of the teenage girls swung in his direction. Chance stopped dead. The girl looked like Skye. He shook his head, squinting. But it couldn't be Skye. She was home.

A boy put his arms around the girl and kissed her; and the blood began to thrum in Chance's head. It couldn't be Skye, he told himself again. It wasn't. He jogged the rest of the way to his car, unlocked it and slid inside, tossing his sandwich and chips onto the seat beside him.

It couldn't be. But if it was, he was going to kill her.

He drove toward the group of kids, slowing when he neared them, hitting the breaks when he saw that it was, indeed, Skye. He gripped the steering wheel, fury taking his breath. She wasn't home and safe; she had sneaked out, she was with this group of hoodlums.

And from the way that scummy boy had his hands all over her, she had been doing this for some time.

He would kill the boy first. Then it would be Skye's turn.

Chance reached across the front seat and rolled down the window. “Skye!”

She stopped and turned to him, the color draining from her face.

“Get in the car. Now!”

When she didn't move, he swore. “Get in the goddamned car, Skye! Now!”

The boy with her turned and flipped him the bird. Chance saw red. He slammed the car into Park and hopped out. He flew around the vehicle, fists clenched. The kids scattered, though not too far; they wanted to watch the show.

He grabbed Skye's arm and dragged her toward the car.

“Let me go!” She struggled against his grasp. “You're hurting me.”

“Good. You deserve it.”

“Hey! Who the fuck are you!” Though the boy shouted the words bravely, he didn't make a move toward Skye.

Chance yanked open the car door and shoved Skye inside, then swung to meet the boy's eyes. “I'm her brother. You see her again and you're a dead man. Got that?”

Not waiting for a response, Chance slid into the car and dropped it into gear, hitting the gas and burning rubber as he did. He flexed his fingers on the steering wheel, struggling to get a grip on his fury. He was so mad he felt as though the top of his head was going to pop off. “How long have you been lying to me, Skye? How long have you been sneaking out of the house to be with those…people?”

She glared at him, then turned her face to the window.

“Dammit, Skye! How long?”

“None of your damn business.”

“Son of a bitch. That long?”

The light at the next intersection had changed and he hit the brakes, then looked at her, shaking with the force of his anger. “Well, I hope you had a chance to say goodbye, because you will
not
be seeing them again. You got that, little girl? Starting now, whatever you've been doing is over.”

“They're my friends!” she shouted, swiveling to face him. “You can't tell me what to do. You can't tell me where I can go and who I—”

“The hell I can't. I'm telling you.” The light changed and he floored the accelerator. “You won't see them again. You'll do what I say. Period.”

They drove in angry silence for several minutes. When the entrance to the trailer park was in sight, she turned to him again, hands balled into fists. “I hate you,” she said, all but spitting the words at him. “You're a pig. I wish I'd never met you.”

“You don't own the market on that one, you little monster.” He swung into the trailer park, taking the corner so fast the big old car fishtailed. “I didn't realize how much I liked you as a know-it-all pest until now. I should spank you.”

“You'd like that, wouldn't you? You pervert.”

“It seems to me,
I'm
not the pervert.” They reached their trailer, he whipped into a parking space, spitting up gravel and dust as he did. “Or have you forgotten last night?”

Her eyes filled with tears and she flung herself out of the car, tripping, then righting herself and running for the trailer door. He followed her, catching her before she could get it unlocked. Grabbing her shoulders, he shook her. “Is that boy the one who's been giving you ideas? Is he? He was all over you. Jesus, Skye—”

“At least Kevin thinks I'm pretty.” She wrenched her shoulders free. “At least Kevin likes to kiss me.”

“I should have known,” he said softly, sickened at the thought of that hoodlum touching her. “I kept wondering at things you were saying, the way you were acting…It's those kids. They're turning you into what they are. Thieves and drug-heads. Gutter trash.”

“They're not that way! Kevin's not. They're my friends, and I—”

“I forbid you to see him again. Do you hear me?” Chance took a step closer to her, crowding her against the door. “I forbid you to see any of them again.”

“What about you and the hyena-girl? How come you can make out, but I can't? Tell me that? The way you two were going at it, I'm surprised you didn't fuck her right there!”

Chance took an involuntary half step backward, stunned. He couldn't believe the words, the thoughts, that were coming out of Skye's mouth. He couldn't believe this was the same sweet girl who had clung to him and cried, the same girl who had called him her best friend.

He gazed at her, remembering the way she had been, an almost wrenching sense of loss moving over him. He wanted that girl back.

He feared she was gone forever.

“First off,” he said softly, evenly, “I don't want to hear you talk that way again. Ever. Second, I can date because I'm eighteen. I'm an adult. You're thirteen and—”

“And a kid. Is that what you were going to say?”

“Yeah, I was.”

“Well, save it. I'm not a baby!” She swung back to the trailer door, got it unlocked and stumbled inside.

He followed her in, slamming the door behind him. “Then stop acting like one.”

“You're not my brother. You can't tell me what to do.”

“You're right, I'm not.” Chance crossed to stand before her, bending so that they were nose to nose, so angry he shook. “And I don't have to take care of you, either. I'd like a life, too. You think I want to work all day for this?” He gestured around the room. “I have no friends, no social life. I have no future. Not with a rock around my neck. Not when I'm trying to take care of a brat kid who isn't even my sister.”

She took a step back, her face white and pinched. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“If you want to be with those kids, with your sleezy-ass boyfriend, go on. If you don't care if you end up in the gutter, then neither do I. But if you go, don't come back. 'Cause I won't be here. You got that? I'm going to get myself a life.”

“I hate you.”

“You've said that before, kid. It's getting really old. If you hate me so much, take off. I gotta get back to work. So I can make the money, the money that pays for this dump.”

He strode to the door, yanked it open, then turned back to her. She looked lost and alone, standing there, eyes wide and bright with tears, arms curled protectively around her middle. She looked like the little girl he had known and cared about. The one he missed.

He steeled himself against pitying her. He didn't have the energy to feel sorry for her, he was too busy feeling sorry for himself.

He fucking hated this. Everything about this moment and the life they were living.

He met her eyes. “As much as you want to escape, Skye, so do I. Remember that the next time you're thinking what a prick I am.”