by Carian Cole
I wonder if she’s homeless and hungry.
I scan the kitchen in confusion, wondering how she got in the house. Jude always locks the doors when he leaves.
“I’m sorry,” I say, fighting to keep my voice calm. “What are you doing here? Do you need something?”
“What are you doing here?” she retorts in an obnoxious tone that raises my defenses even more.
My brain spins and my stomach burns. Is she an ex-girlfriend of Jude’s? Or—even worse—a current girlfriend? Could it be someone Paige sent here to screw with me? I wouldn’t put it past her to pay someone to terrorize me.
“I live here,” I say stoically.
“Where’s Jude?” she asks, cracking open a soda and chugging it.
My stomach practically lurches into my throat. She knows Jude, and she’s acting like she has every right to be in the middle of his kitchen making herself at home. She has to be someone from his past, even though I can’t imagine Jude being with a woman who looks so disheveled. The principal’s words about Jude’s concerning past echo in my head. I know Jude has a sketchy history with drug use, drug dealing, rehab and women, but I don’t know the details of all those things or how bad any of it was. All that matters to me is the person he is now.
But maybe his past has shown up for a visit.
I swallow over the fear creeping through me. “He’s at work. Can you please tell me who you are? How did you get in here?” I demand.
“I have a key.”
The hairs on my arms stand up, and I quickly decide I don’t want to be near this girl. I’ve had enough psychodrama for one day.
“Look, this is really weird,” I say. “You can’t just come into someone’s house. I have no idea who you are or what you want, but I think you’re going to have to just leave. Please. If you leave me your info, I’ll tell Jude you stopped by.”
She stares at me with a bemused look, and pulls a plate of sliced honey-roasted chicken out of the fridge. My limbs buzz and tingle with anxiety as she eats it with her fingers.
I walk around the island and snatch the plate away from her. This isn’t store-bought chicken. I cooked it for Jude myself to eat for lunch while he’s at work. This bitch has no right to come into his home and stick her hands in his food. Especially food I made for him. Even though I’m going to throw it away now that she’s touched it, I still don’t want her to have it.
“You can’t eat this,” I say. “And I’d like you to please leave.”
She doesn’t budge. Instead, she just stares at me with her lips curled into a snarky smile. “He’d want me to wait here for him.”
“I don’t think so.” I toss the plate of chicken in the sink. “He’s with me now.” Anger and jealousy are really getting the best of me today, and I see a long talk with my therapist in my future. I’m really not the jealous, violent type. “I live here with him.”
Laughing, she reaches into the sink and grabs another slice of chicken, then makes a show of chewing it in my face.
What is wrong with this chick?
“I don’t think Jude likes insecure women,” she says matter-of-factly. “No man does.”
“Get out or I’m going to call the police.”
She puts her hand up. “Relax, blondie. I’m his sister. I’m not after your man.”
Oh my God.
I blink at her and search her face for familiar features. “Wait... you’re Erin?” My voice doesn’t hide my disbelief.
She narrows her eyes at me. “How do you know my name?”
My heart jumps at her admission, and I’m speechless for a few moments. “Jude talked to me about you. He told me you’ve been missing for years…” I don’t want to say that she’s basically been assumed dead. I have no idea what’s happened to her or where she’s been all this time.
She lets out a laugh that sounds a bit maniacal. “I guess that’s one way of putting it. But ta-da, here I am.”
Where did she come from? And where has she been? “A-are you alright?” I ask awkwardly. What do you say to someone who’s been missing for years and then suddenly resurfaces in your kitchen?
“I’m great. I just need to see my brother.” She continues to eat the chicken, and I let her now that I know she’s not some crazy ex-girlfriend touching my man’s meat.
Something about her seems very off to me, though. The way she’s sniffling and rubbing her arms is strange, and her attitude gives me the impression she’s hiding something. She doesn’t seem scared or overly happy, but she could be sick or suffering severe mental or physical trauma. Even though her eyes slightly resemble Jude’s, I have no proof she’s really his sister. This woman could’ve seen the missing posters that are still plastered around town and is now pretending to be Erin Lucketti. She could have dyed her hair to look like her.
I edge toward the doorway. “I’m going to go get my phone and call him. I’ll be right back.” Unease settles like a rock in my gut as I go upstairs to the bathroom where I left my phone.
I never call Jude when he’s working, but I don’t think I have a choice this time.
“What’s up?” he says when he answers.
I peek down the hall to make sure she hasn’t followed me. “I think you need to come home. There’s a girl in the kitchen who says she’s your sister.”
The line goes totally silent.
“Jude?”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” The excitement in his voice makes my heart squeeze. “Don’t let her leave.”
Chapter 33
Jude
I tell my prospective clients I have a family emergency and bolt out of their house like my ass is on fire.
Now I’m on my third cigarette as I fight traffic to get home. My mind is so blown my hands are shaking.
Erin is home.
She’s not dead.
My little sister is back.
She’s home.
Suddenly, it’s like a curtain lifts, and my brain is a tsunami of plans. Since Skylar’s in Erin’s room and the other bedroom is being used for storage, I can convert the den into a bedroom suite and turn the hall closet into a bathroom so Erin will have her own space. It shouldn’t take me long to do that, and when Skylar moves out, I’ll let Erin decide if she wants her old room back, or she can stay in the new room. Until then, I’ll let her have my room and I’ll sleep on the couch. This weekend I’ll have Uncle Al and Aunt Suzy over for a family dinner, just like we used to have when we were kids. Maybe Skylar and Erin will become friends. It would be good for Skylar to have a new friend in her life with all the shit she’s been going through. I think Skylar would be great for Erin, too.
Finally, finally, I’ll be able to sleep at night without worrying about all the unknowns of what happened to Erin. I can stop having nightmares that my little sister is rotting in a ditch somewhere or being tortured. I can’t remember what it’s like to sleep through the entire night and not wake up feeling lost and sick with questions.
I want to call Skylar back and tell her to put my sister on the phone. I need to hear her voice to know she’s really alive, but I don’t want to do that over a damn cell phone.
Just a few more minutes and I’ll be there.
When I pull up to my house, there’s a beat-up van in the driveway with Florida plates.
Has she been in Florida all this time?
I park my truck crookedly in the driveway and rush into the house, blindly yelling my sister’s name. I find her in the kitchen with Skylar.
“Erin!” I pull her into a bear hug, squeezing her tight against me. I meet Skylar’s eyes over Erin’s shoulder, and I can’t understand why she’s not smiling, why she looks so sullen. This is the happiest day of my fucking life, and the person I’m closest to looks like someone just died.
As I hug my sister, I realize she’s stiff; her arms hang at her sides, her head turned away.
It’s too soon. I acted on crazy impulse. It’s been a long time, and I’m sure she’s not ready for hugs yet.
“I’m fine,” she says simply, like it’s no big deal that she’s been gone for years without a word or a trace.
Her voice sounds the same— exactly like it does in my memories. But as I stare at her, a chill runs down my spine.
In my mind, Erin has always been alive and grew up to be a gorgeous woman. An older replica of her teen self with long, shiny hair, big, bright eyes, a year-round tan, and a beautiful smile.
But the woman in front of me doesn’t resemble the image in my head at all. Her hair is greasy and stringy. Acne scars riddle her pale face. Angry red veins spider through her dull eyes.
Whatever she’s been through, it’s wreaked havoc on her.
“Where’s Mom?” she asks.
I rub my fingers through my short beard. “She doesn’t live here anymore. She lives in Paris with her new husband.”
Her head pulls back in shock. “Paris, France?”
“Yup.”
She makes a surprised face. “But you stayed here?”
“Yeah. I wanted you to know where to find me in case someday you needed me.”
Frowning, she shuffles her feet back and forth and looks past me.
“Do you want to go sit in the living room?” I ask her. “Are you hungry?”
“She ate a whole plate of chicken,” Skylar interjects.
“No, thanks.” Erin avoids making eye contact with me. “I’m okay in here.”
I can’t take my eyes off her. I’m waiting for her to snap out of this subdued mode she’s in and smile at me. Or break down in tears. Something.
“Erin, you gotta tell me what happened. Did someone take you? I searched for you for months. Everyone thought you were dead.”
She leans back against the counter and scratches her head. “No one took me, Jude. I left. I told you that when I texted you. You put yourself in this denial. Not me.”
Skylar covers her mouth with her hand and pours herself into one of the kitchen chairs.
“What?” I repeat.
Erin chews on a jagged fingernail. “I left, okay? Are you dense? I just didn’t want to deal with shit anymore. So I just left.”
“What shit?”
“Mom being a bitch all the time. This fucking dead-end town. Jimmy had some deals set up in Ocala and he asked me to go with him, so I went.”
“Jimmy who?”
“Jimmy Vantz.”
Hearing his name is like swallowing acid. “Wait a minute… You left town with Jimmy Vantz? He was a fucking drug dealer.” I should know. I was one of his biggest customers for a long time. I never made the connection between Erin’s disappearance and him leaving town.
How could I have been so fucking blind?
“Yeah. We were together.”
“For fuck’s sake, Erin. You were sixteen when you disappeared. He’s older than me.”
Her eyes sweep over to Skylar then back at me, with one brow arched up. “So?”
I want to grab her and shake some kind of emotion out of her. This detached, uninterested, cold demeanor is nothing like the Erin I remember. If I didn’t recognize the hue of her eyes and the little scar on her chin from when she fell off her bike at five years old, I wouldn’t believe this was my sister.
“So, you’re telling me you just up and left town with Jimmy Vantz and never wanted to talk to your family again?” I ask in disbelief.
“Pretty much.”
I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. My heart and my head are throbbing trying to make sense of this, because I can’t believe my sister just took off and didn’t give a flying fuck about any of us.
“Why? We were close. Do you have any fucking idea how worried I was about you? How devastated Mom was? We thought you got kidnapped. Fuck—we thought you were dead.”
“I sent you a text. I told you to stop looking. I saw you on the news and I just wanted you to forget it and move on.”
“Move on?” I repeat, leaning down to make her look at me. “You’re my sister. How do I move on when you just disappeared into thin air?”
“Everyone moves on, Jude. It’s what people do.”
I grind my teeth until my temples hurt. “Not me, Erin. I actually care about people.”
Skylar’s been silent, but her mouth curves into a small, empathetic smile.
Erin lets out a noisy sigh that she directs at her bangs, blowing them up off her face.
“I thought you’d be glad to see me,” she says. “Not be all heavy and shit.”
“Of course I’m glad to see you. I don’t get why you left and I don’t understand why it took you this friggin’ long to come back. You couldn’t have sent me a text once in a while to let me know you were okay?”
“I just wanted to forget everything, and not deal with all this guilt-trip shit like you’re doing right now.”
“It’s not a guilt trip, Erin. You don’t just up and disappear when you’re sixteen years old and let your family—hell, the entire town—go crazy worrying about you and looking for you.”
“Sorry.” Completely unfazed, she pulls out the cigarette that’s been tucked behind her ear. “Can I smoke in here?”
“No,” I say. “Where the hell have you been all this time?”
“Just hanging out with Jimmy in Florida. I worked as a waitress for a while. Jimmy went to prison for a few years, but we stuck together through it.”
I wait for her to say more, but she doesn’t. “That’s it?” I finally say.
I can’t believe I’ve been agonizing over her for years, and she’s been serving burgers in Florida while living with a drug dealer.
I can’t accept that. There’s gotta be more. In my mind, there was a kidnapping. Duct tape over her mouth. Hands tied. Screaming and tears. Lying awake, crying at night, missing her family. Begging to go home.
“Erin, talk to me. Did something else happen? Did someone hurt you? Did he threaten you? You can tell me anything—you know that, right? That hasn’t changed.”
Her pale eyes lift to meet mine, and that’s when I finally see the truth. The root of so many evils in my own life, and I’m damn sure hers, too.
She’s high.
“Are you using, Erin?”
“Using what?” she asks with the attitude and annoyance of a teenager caught doing something they shouldn’t be doing.
“Don’t play games with me.” I grab her arm and shove her sleeve up. My heart sinks like a boulder when I see the track marks.
Disappointment, fear, and that twisted tick of need course through my veins like venom. “Fuck, Erin. What are you doing to yourself?” I drop her arm like it just grew teeth, and she tugs her sleeve back down.
“Don’t act high and mighty, Jude. I remember what you were like back then. You partied constantly. How the hell do you think I met Jimmy?”
It’s a hit I wasn’t expecting, but it’s deserved. She’s right. Jimmy and I used to hang out in the basement, getting high and making deals. A few times, Erin wandered down there—even though I told her a hundred times to stay upstairs. Jimmy would tease and joke with her to make her giggle, and I thought he was just being cool to my little sister, not trying to pick her up.
My blood boils in my veins, and my heart feels like it’s going to explode with rage and regret.
This is my fault, and it tops the list of shit I hate about myself.
“He’s a fucking scumbag,” I say.
“Show me a man who isn’t.”
“Right in front of you,” Skylar pipes up. “Your brother’s not a scumbag. Do you have any idea how much he cares about you?”
Erin whips around to face her. “Mind your own business, bitch. Who the hell are you, anyway?”
&nbs
p; “Hey,” I growl. “Don’t talk to her like that.”
“I don’t need some basic bitch up in my face.”
“I’m gonna go upstairs,” Skylar says, standing. “Welcome home, Erin. I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but I’m not a liar.”
I watch Skylar leave the room, wishing I could go to her, but I’ve got bigger problems to deal with.
“Is she the best you can do, Jude?” Erin taunts when Skylar’s gone.
“Actually, she’s the best I’ve ever had, but we’re not talking about her. I want to know what made you suddenly show up tonight. I’m gonna guess you ain’t here for the holidays.”
“I need some money, and a place to crash for a few days.”
“Money for what?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
“Just to get on my feet. Jimmy ran into some shit in Florida, so we got out of there.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “What kind of shit?”
“A deal went bad, and he owes someone some money. You know how it goes.”
Unfortunately, I do, and I don’t want any part of it. My life is good now and I’m not going to let anyone fuck it up. Not even my little sister.
My next words come out of me like broken glass ripping through me and shredding my soul apart. “You can’t stay here.”
Surprise and resentment pass over her face. “This is my home, too.”
“No.” I shake my head, closing my eyes, so I don’t have to see her face. “Not anymore. It’s my home and I can’t let a user stay here. I’m clean, and I’m staying that way.”
“Come the fuck on, Jude. Don’t be a dick.” She glares at me with cold, hard eyes. “You wanted me to come home.”
“I did. Always. But not like this.” I hold my hand out. “I’m gonna need your house key back.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No. Give it to me.”
She makes a noise and spit flies out of her mouth as she wrenches the key out of her pocket and throws it at me. “You’re a fucking asshole. You said you stayed in this shithole so I’d know where to find you, in case I needed you. Well, I need you.”
