by Claire Adams
"In case you haven’t noticed," I said. "I already am. And I’m fairly certain I can do a better job that you did, if for no other reason than I'll be sober."
"You useless little cunt!" my mother screamed as she tried to push herself up off of the couch. The alcohol had robbed her of her ability to right herself, and she fell back amongst the blankets as she shook the hand holding the lit cigarette at me. "You were always the ungrateful one. The mouthy little upstart. I always hated you."
I inhaled sharply as the words flew out of her mouth. I'd always known that she didn't love me as much as the other two, but this was the first time she'd actually said it. I nodded then turned away to answer the tapping at the front door. I opened it and found my brother standing on the other side as I'd expected.
"She's all yours," I said wearily as I pulled the door wide open and stepped aside. He looked at me quizzically and then laid a hand on my shoulder. He was dressed in black and wore his collar and, for a moment, I had the urge to address him as Father.
"I've got it, Leah," he said quietly before turning and heading into the living room. I stood watching from the doorway as he sat down on the edge of one of the wingback chairs that Mama had always shooed us off of saying they were for company.
"Who the hell are you?" Mama demanded to know.
"Mama, it's Patrick," he said softly. "We need to talk."
"I have no idea who you are, and I don't want to talk to you," she said waving him off before taking a long drag of her cigarette and blowing the smoke in his direction.
"But I need to talk to you," he said bowing his head. He dropped his voice and began speaking so softly that I couldn't hear what he was saying. I assumed that was on purpose, so I walked out the front door and sat down on the porch giving them some privacy.
I tried not to think about what was going to happen next, and instead, let my mind wander back to kissing Jack Yates. It had been a long time since I'd kissed anyone like that—or anyone in general. I could still feel the warmth of Jack's lips and the solidness of his chest under my fingers. I'd wanted to let go. I'd wanted to feel his hands roaming my body but, I knew that if I'd done that, I would have most likely lost my job.
"Dammit!" I cursed as I slammed my fist into my thigh trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. "When is any of this going to get easier?"
"Probably not tonight," Patrick said as he stepped through the door and stood out on the porch with me. "Sorry, I couldn't help but hear you."
"What did she say?" I asked trying not to get my hope up. "Will she get help?"
"Leah, listen to me," he said as he walked over to the porch swing. I scooted over and gave him room to sit down. "Mama is really sick inside, and I don't know that any of us can help her. I don't know that we can't, but I think her road back is going to be long and hard. She doesn't want to get well, Leah. She wants to stay in the place where she drowns the pain and then wallows in it."
"But she could get into rehab and stop drinking," I said helplessly. "She could sober up."
"If she wanted to," he said taking my hand. "But she doesn't want to, Leah. That's the hard part of all of this. She doesn't want to leave the pain behind. She's angry and hurt and lonely, but she'd rather stay that way than deal with everything sober."
"But Patrick . . ." I whispered. "I can't . . . Riley can't . . ."
"No, you most definitely cannot," he nodded as he squeezed my hand. "We've got to get you out of this house as soon as possible. You and Riley need to stay somewhere else. You can stay at the parish house for a few days, but there really isn't enough room for you there."
"But we can't leave Mama here by herself," I protested. "She'll starve to death or hurt herself or burn the place down."
"I'm going to work on finding a caretaker for her, Leah," he said patting my shoulder. "And I'll look into housing for you and Riley, but you two can't stay here. Riley won't survive it."
I nodded and covered my face with my hands as I tried to hold back the tears. I knew he was right, but it felt like such an extreme solution to the problem.
"What if Molly comes back," I whispered. "How will she know how to find us?"
"Leah, it's time you faced reality," Patrick said as he put his arms around me and hugged me tightly. "Molly isn't coming back."
His words released the dam that had built inside of me, and I sobbed on his shoulder, releasing all the pain and fear I'd felt since our sister had disappeared. Patrick rested his chin on the top of my head, just like he'd done when we were kids, and waited for my grief to tire itself out.
*
"Riley, it's time to get up," I said shaking the sleeping girl. She grumbled and rolled over pulling the covers over her head. "Riley, this is not a rehearsal. It's time to get up and get ready, kiddo. If you can't go to school, you're going to come to work with me."
"Aww, Leah," she groaned as she pulled the pillow over her ears and squeezed her eyes shut against the light. "You're so mean!"
"Next time you'll think about my meanness before you punch a classmate," I said, grinning as I pulled the comforter off of her and grabbed the pillow away from her. "Now get up and get ready, I'll buy you breakfast on the way in to work."
I left her to get ready as I prepped our lunches and dressed myself. Normally, I wore clothing that was designed to hint at the fact that I was the boss, but that was also practical in the warehouse. Today, I dressed with a little more care than normal and pulled on a bright colored dress over my usual leggings and boots. I needed the protection of the steel toes, so there was really no way around them, but I swiped on a layer of mascara before dabbing on a little lipstick and considering myself in the mirror. I ran a hand through my hair and wondered for the millionth time whether I should just chop it all off.
The long dark curls were my pride and joy and, combined with my bright blue eyes, they earned me the identity of one of the Black Irish. My mother had told me that legend had it that her people had originated with the arrival of the Spanish Armada and that the dark hair and light eyes were the result of the mix of those folks with the fair Irish folk of the upper isle. I wasn't sure how much of her tale to believe, but as a child, I loved the idea that my curls came from one side of the family and my eyes, the other.
Right now, I was tempted to pull out the scissors and lop off the curls since they refused to behave in any reasonable manner. But I thought better of it and simply gathered the mass in a clip that lifted it off of my face and would be easy to adjust during the day. If I were honest, I'd admit that I wanted Jack to be able to run his fingers through my hair if he kissed me again, and the clip was easily removed. I blushed as I thought about it, but then let the notion go as I walked to Riley's room.
"I don't want to go, Leah," she pouted as she slowly packed her backpack full of books and games. "Why can't I stay here with Gram?"
"Because I need you to come with me today," I said cheerfully, avoiding the explanation of why Mama was not someone I felt safe leaving her with anymore. "I'm going to have a busy day at the office, and I need a helper."
"Aren’t there laws against child labor?" she grumbled. "I don't think this is legal."
"Don't worry, I'm not going to have you do anything too terribly taxing," I said as I handed her a pair of hiking boots I'd found in the front closet.
"Why do I have to wear these? Can't I wear tennis shoes?" she whined. I knew that she was upset about being suspended and that the change in routine was something a little scary, so I stayed calm and waited it out.
"Nope, you have to wear sturdy shoes in the warehouse," I said pointing down at my work boots. "If something falls on your foot, it needs to be covered. Put the boots on, and let's get going! I want to stop at Stan's Donuts on the way!"
"Donuts for breakfast?" she asked hopefully. "Can I have a chocolate one?"
"You can have whatever you want, but we have to be on time! So let's get a move on, lady!" I said as I moved into the kitchen, grabbing the lunches I'd packe
d for us, and my purse. I peeked into the living room, saw that Mama was still sleeping, and breathed a sigh of relief. This would be easier if we didn't have to confront each other. I'd given Patrick a set of keys the night before, so I knew he'd be able to get into the house when he was ready.
As I shooed Riley out of the house so we could make the train on time, I turned and looked back at the front door, knowing that soon we'd be moving away. My heart felt heavy, but I knew Patrick was right. Riley and I couldn't be dragged down into Mama's hell. I had to find a way to get us out and onto a path that would lead toward something better.
I just wished Mama—and Molly—could join us.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jack
"Do not ever show up at my mother's house unannounced again," I said as Sloan walked into my office. She was wearing a suit that was obviously tailor-made and fit her like a glove. The blouse dipped low enough to show the promise of something underneath, but not so low as to give away the store. She was wearing shiny black stilettos that made her legs look a mile long, and her hair and makeup were impeccably done.
"Don’t ever order me to do or not do anything again," she replied as she set her bag down on the edge of my desk and gave me an icy look. "I’m not the hired help. I’m a businesswoman who has a substantial amount of knowledge and who is willing to help you guide this company into the 21st century. You will treat me with the respect I deserve."
"Then quit acting like some kind of dominatrix whore," I replied. She glared at me as I stood and walked around the desk. "You and I are business partners. Act like it."
"You're nothing more than a self-absorbed playboy who seeks revenge for the hurt his daddy caused," she said as she laid a palm on my chest. "You're not capable of running this company nor are you capable of turning a profit. I'm the reason you're going to keep this going long enough to cash out and move on. Don't forget it."
"You really are an arrogant bitch, aren't you?" I said, smiling at her as if I were indulging a child. "You think that I have nothing to offer, and you can sweep in here and save me from myself so that you can claim to be the hero, don't you?"
"I thought we were on the same side," she said suddenly switching tactics. "We're working together, Jack. We want the same thing."
"No, I don't think we do, Sloan," I said moving her hand off of my chest and backing out of her reach. "I think you're running some kind of game. I just don't know what it is."
"I'm not, I swear I'm not," she said looking down as she bit her lip. "Jack, listen to me. I'm tired of having to maintain this ice queen image. I just want to prove that I can do something worthwhile. I want to earn my reputation separate from my father’s and succeed on my own terms. You can understand that, can't you?"
"Nice try. I'll give you an A for effort and acting," I said as I walked around the desk and picked up a stack of papers.
"I'm being honest, Jack," she said as she dropped down into the chair across from my desk and put her head in her hands. "I'm sick of this, Jack. I'm sick of always having to be the bitch or the attack dog. Can't I just be me and do what I do best? I know how to sell things. I know how to bring in new business. Can't I just do that?"
"Sure, you go right ahead, sweetheart," I said as I looked at her, trying to decide if she was being real or simply playing me again. "I just don't want to be your little lap dog, so let's steer clear of all the sexual games you like to play, okay?"
"But you said you liked it!" she cried. "I keep pursuing you because you liked it!"
"No, you keep pursuing me because you know how to manipulate me," I said dryly. "And when it comes to you, unfortunately, I have little control over the physical response. You know that, and you use it to your advantage. I'm on to you, Sloan, and I'm done with this little push-pull game you play."
"Jack, I do care about you," she said, standing up and coming around the desk. "I'm not lying about that. I do find you irresistibly attractive, and I do want things with you that I've never wanted with anyone else."
"You have a funny way of showing it, Sloan," I said, grabbing her wrists and pushing them down by her sides. The intoxicating scent of her perfume permeated the room, and as she moved closer to press her body against mine, I felt my resolve lessening. She was undeniably beautiful and drove me crazy like no woman I'd ever met, but I knew that to possess her would be more than I'd ever hoped for.
"Don't you want me, Jack?" she whispered into my neck as she brushed my skin with her lips. "Don't you want to own me? Just once?"
It was the last question that brought me crashing back to reality. Just once. I could own her, but it would only be once.
"Stop it, Sloan," I ordered as I shoved her a little more roughly than I'd intended. She stumbled but caught herself on my desk. "I don't want this. I told you. We're not meant to be together. You know it. I know it. Just leave me alone."
"What about our deal?" she said coolly. "You offered to service me any time I wanted. Are you going to back out of it now?"
"Not this morning, dear, I've got a headache," I said in a flat voice. Sloan narrowed her eyes, gathered herself, walked back around the desk, and picked up her purse before crossing the room.
"I would not fuck with me if I were you," she said quietly.
"Oh, I have zero plans to do that," I said without a smile. "But then I think that's been clear from the start."
She shot me a look that was so filled with hatred I felt it run down my spine. Then she turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door so hard that two of my father's awards came crashing down off the wall.
"Jack! Are you okay, darlin’?" Norma called from the front office. She came bustling through the door looking around as she declared, "What did you do, Jack? That woman left here madder than a wet hen!"
"It's okay, Norma," I said. "Sloan and I are old friends, and we were having a disagreement about the business. It'll all be fine by tomorrow."
"I sure hope so," Norma said. "No good comes from having a woman like that mad at you! Oh, and you need to get down to the warehouse. The construction crew showed up, and Leah is wondering what on Earth she's going to do while they work on the renovation!"
"I'll go down and see her right now," I said as I gathered up the plans.
What I hadn't told Sloan, or maybe hadn't even admitted to myself was that, after kissing Leah, something had shifted. I had no idea what it meant, but I intended to find out.
*
"Who are you?" the thin girl asked as I walked into Leah's office.
"I'm Jack," I replied. "You don't look like Leah."
"Probably because I'm not," she said as she looked up from the papers spread out on the desk. She studied me. "What's your job around here?"
"I'm the guy in charge of stuff," I said. She did, in fact, look like Leah, in a family resemblance sort of way. She had short, brown hair that took off in different directions and looked like it would require some coaxing and lots of gel to lay flat. Her eyes were big and blue, and she had the same smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose as Leah. She didn't smile at me, but she did consider me carefully before nodding and returning to the work in front of her. I watched for a moment, and then asked, "Who are you?"
"I'm Riley," she said as she carefully wrote something on the paper. "I'm Leah's niece."
"I see," I said, suddenly wondering where Leah was. "And what exactly are you doing here?"
"I got suspended," she said solemnly as she looked up at me. "I got in a fight with some girls who were bullying me, and I punched the biggest one. We all got suspended, so Leah said that if I'm not in school, then I need to be at work."
"I see," I nodded. "Do you regret what you did?"
"No, why would I?" she said shaking her head. "I didn't bully anyone, they did. I was just standing up for myself."
"But you punched a girl," I said, wondering why I was having this conversation with a young girl I'd never met before. "Don't you feel bad about that?"
"Look, I know
you adults get all high and mighty about antiviolence stuff," she said in an exasperated tone. "But do you really have any idea what goes on in schools? I don't think so. Do I wish those girls would have left me alone? Yep. Would I take the punch back if I could? Nope. They got what they asked for, and now other kids will leave me alone, too."
"It sounds like school is pretty brutal," I said, marveling at the oddly mature way Riley had explained the problem.
"You have no idea," she sighed as she rolled her eyes. "It's murder of the soul."
"Is that right?" I said, biting my lip to keep from laughing out loud at her dramatic assessment of the situation. "Well, you should be reassured by the fact that it won't last forever, and that someday these girls will all be parents who will be trying to save their own kids from the schoolyard bully."
"You'd think it would work that way, wouldn't you?" she said looking at me intently. "But that's just bullshit, and adults know it."
"Riley!" Leah exclaimed as she walked into the office and overheard Riley's assessment of my lack of understanding. "You cannot talk to people that way, young lady!"
"I'm sorry, Leah," she said hanging her head before mumbling. "Sorry, Jack."
"It's cool," I shrugged, trying not to make a big deal of it.
"No, it's definitely not cool," Leah said, giving me a warning look. "You cannot talk to adults that way. I will not tolerate it."
"I said I'm sorry!" Riley whined as she squirmed in her chair. Then quickly turning the conversation to a new topic, she asked, "Can I get something to eat? I'm starving!"
"There's food in the fridge out in the warehouse," Leah said. "You can get your bag and have a snack. Just don't bug the guys while they're working. And don't leave the warehouse!"
"Okay, thanks Leah!" she said as she shot out of the chair and ran down the hallway toward her waiting snack.
"Nice kid," I said smiling. "How'd you wind up with her today?"