The Sweet Under His Skin (57 page)

"Shit, Charlie's making waffles? What if he burns himself?"

"We practiced some yesterday. I trust him. He's very responsible."

Quentin turned his face away from her to swipe at his eyes, irritated. Fuck, what the hell was this?

"Quentin, it's okay," she whispered. "Everyone deserves fancy breakfast on their birthday."

Quentin moved quickly so she wouldn't see that he was tearing up, kissing her hard. She responded immediately, distracting him from this sudden flare of emotion. When he pulled away he suspected he was steady, but his voice still sounded shaky to him. "That kid," he mumbled, rolling away from her and sitting up. "Turning me into a sap."

She rose to her knees behind him, pressing into his back, hands running over his chest as she kissed his neck then propped her head on his shoulder. "You already were a sap, honey."

"I gotta go have breakfast right now so Charlie's not late for school," Quentin growled.

"I know."

"You making me want to fuck you—is gonna make him late for school."

She giggled and backed away. He made like he was lunging to grab her, making her squeal and hide under the blankets. Then he got up and pulled on his shorts and jeans, then a T-shirt. "I already know what else I want for my birthday," he shared, pulling his shirt over his head.

"What's that?"

He stopped in the doorway, looking back at her as she pulled on his Dead Men T-shirt. "I want you and Calvin to move in with me. No need to pay rent if we're basically living together. I own that place. It won't feel like home without you guys there." Her face got all soft and weepy at that, and he opened the door. "Just…think about it. Okay?"

She nodded. "Okay."

The kid was cranking out waffles like a madman, a stack on a plate about ten high was being tucked into the warm stove, and the waffle iron was unplugged, ready to take a rest.

"Jesus, Charlie," he muttered from the entryway. "You got a thing for waffles or what?"

"Happy birthday, Q!" he shouted, rushing through the room and throwing his arms around Quentin's waist. Quentin grunted, not a put-on, and ruffled the kid's hair.

"Thanks Calvin," he returned, hearing the thickness in his own voice as that damn eye-burn came on again.

"We have whipped cream, strawberries, mangoes, peaches, raspberries, blueberries and syrup."

Quentin surveyed the table as his stomach gurgled. "Damn, you've been working hard, Charlie."

There were bowls of the mentioned fruits on the table as well as a huge bowl of fluffy whipped cream. Coffee was already set out, along with orange juice.

"Sit down," Calvin instructed, pulling him to the table where a chair was angled out, inviting.

Quentin did as told, pulling his chair to the table and waiting with hands crossed in front of him as Calvin opened the stove and took out a warm plate, wearing an oven mitt, and carried the plate to the table. He set it down in front of Quentin, then went back for the high rise of waffles and did the same. With a big grin he pulled off the mitt and just looked at Quentin.

"What, I'm eating all these myself? Sit down, Charlie. Keep me company."

Calvin grinned, ran back and slammed the stove shut then scurried into the chair opposite. Quentin grabbed a couple of the crispy creations before shoving the plate closer to Calvin, who did the same. Then the kid watched while Quentin piled a bit of every kind of fruit on top of them, and he immediately did exactly the same thing. Quentin paused with the whipped cream, grinning at the kid who was back to watching him again.

"What?" Calvin asked.

Having that kid copy his breakfast was…fucking weird. And Quentin didn't know why it made his eyes all warm again. He set down the whipped cream and waved the kid over. "Come here, Charlie."

"Why?" Calvin wanted to know, even as he did what he was told.

Quentin grabbed him and hugged him, lifting him into his lap. "Thanks buddy," he said, giving the kid a tight squeeze then setting him back on his feet.

"You're welcome, Q," Calvin replied climbing back into his chair, totally nonplussed and taking the offered whip cream from Quentin.

Warm hands slid around his chest from behind, and he immediately covered Arielle's hands with one of his. She kissed his neck and said close to his ear, "See? Complete sap. Just a big teddy bear."

Quentin grinned and pretended to bite at her hand before she pulled it away, then dug into his fancy birthday breakfast.

Fancy breakfast took most of Calvin's morning prep time, so Arielle was doing the dishes and smiling to herself, losing herself in her thoughts as though she wasn't starting another round of chemo the next day.

Sickness and in health, babe. For better for worse. Richer or poorer. As long as I live, babe. I'll take care of you.

As he had said those words the night before she realized she'd never had the girl moment where she felt she needed an answer to the big question: "Is this going anywhere?" She'd never wondered that. She hadn't had to ask, and before the thought was hers he gave the answer all on his own.

That was just…wow.

Quentin had offered to help her with dishes when he got back from dropping Calvin off at school, but she reminded him that a person did not do dishes on their birthday.

She'd just dried and stored away the last plate when the phone rang. Still smiling, she answered the wall phone. "Hello?"

"Arielle?"

Jolene's panicked voice for one word and all her contentment fled. "Jolene? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry. I…I'm getting out of Portus Felix. I just wanted to say first I'm sorry, and I love you and Calvin and Thelma. And I'm so sorry."

Her hand tightened on the receiver. "Jolene? What have you done?"

"I gotta get out of here. They'll hand me over and let Reuben kill me. I swear, they will."

"No, Jolene. Stay here and you'll be safe. You can trust them." She wasn't sure how true that was, but Jolene on her own was a guaranteed disaster. She was lunging for her purse on the counter as she spoke, fumbling to get the burner cell Quentin gave her while keeping her sister on the line. "Where are you? I'll come get you."

"No, they'll just follow you here." Jolene must have been on a payphone, Arielle could hear traffic.

"Jolene, what's changed?"

"Clark Davidson showing up, that's what's changed. He can bring Reuben to them. I don't want to be here for it."

Arielle flicked through the phone book on the cell, finding Colton's number. Quentin was taking Calvin to school which put him pretty far from the rest of the guys. Hopefully Colton was at the clubhouse.

It didn't even occur to her to call Bishop instead.

"Arielle? I love you guys a lot. I gotta go. Bye."

The line went dead, but not before she heard air brakes. But was it a bus or a truck stop?

She slammed the phone down with a loud, "Shit!" just as Colton picked up.

"Yeah?" he asked after a pause, some laughter in his tone.

"It's Arielle."

"Hey,Arielle—"

She cut him off. "Jolene got out. She just called me to wish us all well but she wants out of Portus Felix. It sounded like she was at the bus station or a truck stop."

"Shit, she was in Dillon's room this morning."

"Again?" Arielle was surprised that Jolene picked favorites on anything.

"I'll call Bishop and Quentin. You got T-bone watching you right now, right?"

"Yeah," she replied, panicking.

"I'll leave him on you, but I'll see where everyone else is. And I guess I better check on Dillon. Your sister has a history with us."

Arielle cringed. "Yeah, I know. And I'm sorry."

"I'm at the clubhouse, heading to the dorms right now. Don't worry Arielle. Stay put, I'll let you know when we find out anything worth knowing. Okay?"

"Okay," she whispered, nodding.

"Stay where you are. I know you're the smart one."

Colton had an excellent phone manner. Arielle was calmer when she hung up, standing in the middle of the kitchen. She had no idea what to do now. So she called Thelma.

"Oh for fuck's sake," was Thelma's reaction to Jolene running again. "I know I said I'd pick up Calvin from school for the night. Do you want me to come in now?"

Arielle sighed, plopping onto a kitchen chair and leaning against the wall. "No, that's okay. I just…I wanted to tell you."

"Okay, well, thanks, honey. How was fancy breakfast?"

Arielle laughed at Thelma's resilience. She envied that Teflon disposition. "Calvin makes excellent waffles."

"What did Quentin think?"

Arielle's smile widened. "Oh Thelma, he loved it." Her burner cell went off, and Thelma heard it.

"That's your cell?"

"Yes."

"I'll let you go. The second you hear anything let me know. Otherwise I'll just pick Calvin up and whisk him away as planned."

"All right. Thanks, Aunt Thelma." She hung up the wall phone and flipped open the burner again. "Hello?"

"Honey, I love you, but if I get my hands on your sister I'm going to kill her."

Arielle cringed, knowing that Mandy was perfectly capable of that. "Hey, Mandy. I'm so sorry."

"Christ, there's no need to apologize. What'd she give Quentin when he passed out?"

"Dramamine. Anti-nausea medication."

"Well, at least it's safe."

Arielle connected the dots. "Is Dillon okay?"

"He's waking up now. He's pissed."

Arielle had to nod. "Yes, he's got a case for that."

"Are you all right, sweetheart?"

"Oh, I'm fine. I'm…I'm getting to the point again where I just…want her to disappear again for a while. A terrible as that sounds."

"Can't pick our family, hun."

That was the truth. "Should I come there?"

"No offense, but Bishop's so pissed I'm advise against anything that resembles Jolene being anywhere near here. I still can't figure out how she got out of the clubhouse without anyone noticing. Bitch even stole one of our loaners."

Arielle rubbed her brow, cringing. "Shit."

"Sorry, hun, take it easy today. You start some worse shit than this tomorrow. We know that. Don't worry, we'll sort all this out."

"Okay. Thanks, Mandy. And tell Dillon I hope he feels better."

"Will do. What’re you up to today?"

"I have to get a fancy supper put together for Quentin's birthday."

There was a pause. "It's Quentin's birthday?"

Arielle had to smile. "Things have been busy. He's not really one to run around telling everyone that his birthday is coming up."

The pause again, then "I don't think I ever knew when his birthday was."

"Really?" Arielle frowned, wondering what kind of world it was when your so-called family didn't know when your birthday was.

"Hell, sometimes Bishop shows up with a gift and I'm wondering what it's for and he tells me it's my birthday."

Arielle shared a laugh with Mandy, but when she hung up she felt a little coldness run through the centre of her chest. It was…sadness, she supposed.

No wonder Calvin's gift made Quentin so happy. Who knows the last time someone even said "Happy birthday" to him? For someone as dedicated as he was to that group…yeah, that made her sad.

She set about to preparing the potatoes and veggies for supper, wishing she'd thought of something to get him. But after seeing his reaction to waffles, she was pretty sure that steak night and the lingerie was going to be a home run.

She put Jolene out of her mind, prepped for supper, then decided it earned her a nap and padded off to bed, falling asleep on a pillow that smelled like Quentin, ridiculously excited to give him his present. Probably even more giddy than Calvin had been.

If blood was explosive, he'd be a fucking spray of crimson on the blacktop of Portus Felix's one and only truck stop and diner. Quentin parked his bike, ripped his helmet off, and damn near had an aneurism at the sight of Jolene, purse slung across her body and resting on her hip, hustling truckers and begging for a ride. She wasn't just a junkie who used her family until nothing was left.

She was a fucking idiot to boot.

He was crossing the lot before she caught sight of him, about fifty yards away when she turned and realized she was busted. She froze, then scanned both ways like the Road Runner, spun and ran.

In fucking flip flops yet.

He didn't check to see if T-bone was behind him. Quentin took off running, gaining on her easily because of her questionable footwear. Even when she lost one sandal and kept on going she was still easy to overtake. He grabbed an arm, hit the brakes and yanked back on her. He could give a shit if her shoulder dislocated. She'd be lucky if she lived another twelve hours.

And it wouldn't take Bishop to do it, he was that pissed.

Quentin's anger wasn't from the fact she was fucking over the club, either. It was how badly this was hurting Arielle. Colton had said on the phone Arielle had sounded freaked, but she did good and called it in immediately.

To protect this waste of skin.

Jolene yelped like he'd hurt her, and he could give a fuck. T-bone caught up right then and didn't hesitate grabbing the other arm.

Quentin just glared at the junkie, shaking his head. "You got a fucking nerve, bitch," he snarled, out of breath but mad enough to keep going. "You're gonna do this to the woman raising your kid? Your own sister? She's worried about you 'ya fucking idiot."

Jolene's face crumpled. "I know. But he's going to kill me."

"Or he'll come after them. With all the stupid shit you pull you expect me to believe you don't have a death wish on some level?" Quentin spun her around, nodding to T-bone. Without a word he was pulling out his phone to call for the pick-up.

"I need my other shoe," she whimpered. T-bone told someone where they were.

Quentin marched her back to get the flip flop, not letting go of her arms. A few folks were watching them carefully, but Jolene wasn't pulling a shit fit and screaming so most good Samaritans seemed to believe this was the kind of thing that sorted itself out.

The truckers themselves barely gave them a glance. A few gave cordial chin lifts in greeting which Quentin returned as Jolene slid her foot back onto her sandal.