The Sweet Under His Skin (3 page)

"I took a cab to your old place. Some guy told me where you'd moved to."

Arielle sighed. Small town. She already knew how it happened; Jolene showed up at the old condo just as politely as she had here, woken up some poor resident who had informed her where she could find her sister.

"Then you took a cab here? Do you need cab fare? Because we're kinda tight for cash Jolene—"

"I know, I know. Don't worry little sister." Her sister's eyes were too wide and bright as she dug in her bag, breathless with excitement. "I'm here to help. Look."

She pulled out a black, well-creased wallet and flipped it open. "I hit the mother-load. Look at this." Arielle felt her stomach sink as Jolene pulled out a heavy wad of bills. "Look at this! How much do you think this is? Looks like about two-grand to me!"

Arielle watched her sister lick her lips as she regarded the handful of money. She was so excited her pupils were wide…too wide.

"Shit Jolene, what are you on?"

Her head jerked up, contrite. "What? What’d you mean?"

"Your eyes, Jolene. You're spun right out. What did you spend some of that money on?"

Jolene licked her lips again. "Just a little something. I needed it. I was on a fucking bus all day!"

"What did you take?"

Jolene sighed. "It was just a bit of coke. Nothing too serious."

"Pot isn't too serious. Cocaine is fucking serious, Jolene."

Jolene gave her a wide-eyed look of regret. This was the thing about her little sister; she wasn't just a horrible bitch when she was messed-up. She was easily agreeable, self-deprecating and apologetic to a fault. Arielle knew it was an act, part of her manipulative personality, but right then Arielle was too tired to stay strong. She was always tired these days.

"Look, just…tell me whomever you stole this wallet from is far, far away."

"Oh, don't worry. When he wakes up it'll take hours before he knows it's gone."

Arielle rubbed her face. "Shit. Tell me you stole it while he was in the bathroom?"

Jolene looked at her feet. "Just a little Dramamine in some J.D."

Arielle groaned. "Fuck! I hope this was just some regular guy you conned into a motel room tryst, Jolene. If this was someone scary like last time—"

Jolene shook her head. "No, I swear it. This guy sold…fucking, hot tubs. I can't remember. He wouldn't shut up about them."

Jolene was a terrible liar but Arielle didn't have energy for an argument. "Extra blankets and pillows should be in one of these boxes somewhere. Sleep on the couch, and keep it down. Calvin will be up early for cartoons, so…expect to be a sad sack in the morning."

"Okay." Jolene grabbed her in a big, warm, booze-smelling hug. "Thank you, Arielle!"

"Just go to sleep." With that she left her sister in the living room and stumbled back to the waiting comfort of her bed.

"Auntie Arielle?" the voice was cautiously polite. "Auntie Arielle? It's nine o'clock."

She opened one eye, smiling at the sight of Calvin in his pyjamas, standing next to the bed, hands resting on the mattress as he looked at her with curiosity. "What's up, Peanut?"

"You better come. Mom's making breakfast."

Arielle sighed, closing her eyes and willing herself to just pass out for a week. She'd managed to forget about her sister while sleeping. It had been glorious.

"Okay," she grumbled. "I'm getting up. Go watch TV."

She'd always lectured on the dangers of Calvin using the stove without supervision. The truth was she'd trust him to operate the gas range before Jolene.

At least she couldn't smell any burning as she yawned and stumbled to the living room. Calvin was nestled in some blankets on the couch, immersed in cartoons. She pattered into the kitchen, taking note of the mess all over the countertops. She hadn't unpacked all the kitchen wares yet, so boxes were partially unpacked, anything Jolene didn't need were discarded wherever it fell or was set down.

"What are you making?" she asked, setting herself down in a chair at the kitchen table, yawning yet again.

Jolene smiled at her brightly, flour on her cheek. "Pancakes. I found your pajama pants in a box while I was looking for pillows. Hope it's okay."

Arielle hadn't even noticed that Jolene's denim skank skirt was gone. "It's better," she assured her sister. "Calvin doesn't need the birds and the bees talk early, just because he got an eyeful of where he came from." Jolene just laughed, flipping the pancakes she had in the skillet. "Did you actually sleep?"

Her sister didn't look at her as she shrugged one shoulder. "I guess. A little."

Arielle shook her head, crossing her arms on the table and letting her head fall forward onto them. "Christ, I'm so exhausted."

"I know Arielle. That's why I'm here! I'm helping."

Arielle had to admit that breakfast smelled awesome. She dragged her sad ass off the chair and set the table, getting the butter and syrup, dishes and flatware while Jolene prattled on about all the fantastic things she'd seen and where she'd been the last three months.

Breakfast was served at the kitchen table, with Jolene asking Calvin all the polite questions an aunt would ask when visiting. It was a strange demographic, but it worked for them for whatever reason. Calvin helped load the dishwasher, and Jolene sat staring at him while Arielle brought two mugs of coffee to the table for them. Jolene was shaking her head as she took a sip.

"He's so awesome, Arielle. He's so smart!"

Calvin could hear her of course, but he just sniffed and pushed his glasses up his nose, his ears turning a bit red.

"He is smart," Arielle confirmed. "Teachers all say he's the brightest in the class. Right, Peanut?"

"Yes, Aunt Arielle."

"I'm so sorry you're sick, Arielle." Jolene said quietly. "It…it should be me getting sick."

Part of the manipulative personality again, but Arielle wasn't playing into that. "We have no say over this stuff," she said. "I just wish I didn't lose all of mom and dad's money fighting for custody," she said it quiet, but Calvin was smart enough to know what they were talking about.

Jolene set her coffee down. "I wouldn't take his money, Arielle." Arielle just scoffed. "I wouldn't," Jolene hissed through clenched teeth.

"You'll steal it from strangers but not your son? That does makes you a good person."

Jolene fell silent, her lower jaw thrust to the side to show she was pissed. Now we were getting to the ugly truth; the fact that Jolene was still half-gone and the addiction was very much in control.

"You know what?" The ugly side finally spat out. "You win. Sit here and feel fucking sorry for yourself. Play‘mommy martyr’and collect all those fucking sainthood points. But don't you ever imply I don't care."

"You don't," Arielle said back.

"Fuck you, Arielle."

Arielle got to her feet. "Get out."

Jolene looked shocked. "What?"

"Get out of this house."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"You never mean anything. You show up here at three in the morning, wake up your son, show a handful of stolen money at me and expect it to make anything better? You're not welcome here until you're straight, Jolene. I can't have you in here with…stolen property and controlled substances. You need to leave." She saw tired, and overly cranky, but she meant every word. This was as close to an intervention as her sister was going to get.

Jolene's eyes welled up, ready to play for the sympathy. Arielle had seen it too many times. "I'm sorry, Arielle," she whispered, standing slowly like she'd just been beaten. "I'll go."

Calvin had quietly slipped out of the room to watch TV, and Jolene left much the same way. Arielle's heart was pounding hard and her blood was roaring; but it never lasted long. She felt the exhaustion again and had to sit down, calming herself with even breaths. She didn't have energy to waste this way, not in the morning anyway.

When Jolene returned with her bag she put a pile of money on the table. "At least take this, okay? Put it in an emergency fund or something."

Arielle eyed up the money. It was all different denominations, crumpled. She didn't want to know who Jolene got it from. And she certainly didn't want it on the table she ate her meals on.

"I don't want it, Jolene. I mean it."

Jolene sighed. "Won't it help though?"

Yeah, it would. Of course it would. "I don't want it. It's stolen. And that's not what Calvin needs to see, Jolene."

Her sister gathered the cash, head down, and shoved it back into the wallet. As she did so, one panel flopped open, the window displaying a California driver's license.

Arielle froze. "Shit," she whispered, snatching the leather back from Jolene.

"What?"

Arielle stared at the photo ID, her stomach twisting. She couldn’t mistake those mesmerizing eyes to be anyone else’s. "Fuck, Jolene. Is this who you robbed?"

"Why?"

She flipped the wallet over to show her sister the photo. "This guy? Did you happen to notice the street address on this ID?"

Jolene frowned. "No. Why?" She leaned forward, then her eyebrows shot up. "Oh, fuck me."

"Nice work, Jolene. You said he was a hot-tub salesman! Why can't you rob people that aren't armed?" she was shouting, heart rate flying to catch up with her anger.

Arielle shoved the wallet at her sister again, grabbing the phone. "I'm calling you a cab. And you're going right to the bus station and getting out of town. But first you're going next door and putting that wallet in his mailbox."

Jolene looked at her like she was insane. "What? No I'm not."

Arielle carried the cordless to the window off the dining room that overlooked her driveway and the neighbor's. The bike wasn't there. Thank God.

She whirled on Jolene, who had followed her. "You have to give it back, Jolene. Those guys are dangerous, you know that, right? And this guy scares the shit out of me.He’s…"

Jolene huffed. "Can I keep some of the money?"

"Are you insane? Jolene, I…aren't you scared of people? Ever?" That's when the cab dispatch answered the phone, and Arielle ordered a car to her address. She was told it would be there in ten minutes. She hung up the phone, shaking her head, her hands trembling. "Christ, I hope he's not back soon."

"He'll sleep until noon, trust me."

Arielle took a deep breath. "You can't come back here until I find another place. If he sees you—"

"Don't worry, Arielle."

"Don't tell me not to worry. Do you have death wish or are you just this fucking stupid?" She felt bad saying it, but her only recourse was to lock herself in the bathroom and run some cold water to splash on her face while praying the cab got there before her scary-biker neighbor returned home.

When she was calm again, she dried her face and returned to the living room. Jolene had the same zoned-out expression as Calvin while she watched the TV, and Arielle felt her heart break. Jolene got to be his biological mom, and once Arielle was through chemo she'd be unable to have kids.

That was the most unfair fucking thing about all of it.

She went to the kitchen for more coffee, and when she returned to the living room she caught sight of a car pulling up to the curb. "Cab's here," Arielle snapped, and Jolene automatically got to her feet, grabbed her bag off the floor and made for the door. Calvin got up and followed to see their guest‘out’, because he was having manners bred into him at that moment.

They stood on the stoop, Calvin in front of her, and Arielle held his shoulders while Jolene sauntered down the walkway. Then she had a thought and turned around. "I want to come back for Calvin's birthday, though."

Arielle sighed. "Jolene, you can't. If I were you'd I'd stay the hell out of Portus Felix!" As she said it she heard the God-fearing rumbles, and her heart probably stopped pumping life then.

Jolene turned towards the sound. Arielle wanted to scream at her to get in the cab and get gone, but the bikes were there fast. Too late, Jolene's survival instinct kicked in and she started for the car.

Three bikes stopped in front of her neighbor's house, and one pulled into the driveway. That bike's rider ripped his helmet off fast, stood, and Arielle felt cold, crippling fear. It was her neighbor, the one whose photo was in that stolen wallet. And he was pissed.

"You," he shouted. "Stop right the fuck there and don't think of moving."

Jolene was scurrying though. Arielle was frozen in place, like she was watching a lion about to pounce on an antelope.

He moved fast for someone so large, and he caught up with Jolene by grabbing her ponytail and pulling up on it, making her shriek and nearly lose her footing in the stupid heels she had on.

"Go inside," Arielle told Calvin, reaching in the door and grabbing the cordless phone off the entertainment centre.

"Honey, you dial that phone and I'm gonna break it," a voice said, and Arielle jumped. She found the man who spoke, a mountain-sized biker with shoulder-length hair and an impressive goatee, who was standing at the foot of her driveway, hand held up.

She just stared. And his eyes got big.

"Put the phone down," he instructed. She brought it down to her side and started to head inside and he tutted, bringing her back around. "You stay where I can see you. Not gonna hurt you, sweetheart, but I don't want you calling the cops, either."

Arielle had never been this scared in her entire life, and she wasn't even the one being tossed around. Her hands were sweaty and shaking, and she could only stand there while her neighbor grabbed her sister by the shoulders and slammed her against the cab.

Chapter Four

Quentin thought he was dreaming when he rolled up on his place and saw the bitch from the night before heading for a cab right on the street he lived on. Being robbed had him pissed enough, but the headache from whatever the fuck she'd slipped him made him extra miserable.

No one had seen the bitch leave. Mandy had been distracted by a cat fight and this little pick-pocket had waltzed right out, totally undetected. It had been two hours before anyone realized he was even missing. Talk about fucking humiliation. And having Mandy be the one to find him, passed out with his dick hanging out was the fucking icing on the cake.