Wicked Little Sins Page 12

  “I haven’t heard from your father’s lawyers. Have you spoken to anyone?” she asked.

  “No, Mom, it’s the same as always. When they know anything, they will let you know. I don’t know why you always call me about this,” he griped, trying to stay calm; this woman knew how to get under his skin.

  “Well, I do think it’s the least you could do for your father, or even for your mother, Adrian!” she shrieked.

  Adrian pulled the phone away from his ear as her deafening tantrum continued. He seriously thought of hanging up on her.

  “Look, when I’m done eating, I’ll give them a call myself. All right?” he asked, breathing heavy.

  “If only he would have kept it in his pants. None of us would be in this mess. I love you, son,” And with that, the call ended.

  Quinn and Jordan

  The rain pounded the pavement, drenching everything not sheltered. A river of cool liquid soaked Quinn’s shoes as she scrambled into her apartment complex. Tugging at the main entryway door, she hurried to the elevator, shaking the rain from her hair. These were the times when she wished she’d have paid a little closer attention to the forecast.

  Cal, the maintenance worker, started down the hallway, whistling an eerie tune. He rattled and banged his toolbox along the wall. He was drunk--Quinn was sure of it. Who else had such bad coordination when walking?

  He reminded her of the hunchback of Notre Dame.

  “Ms. Harper,” he said, lifting his scruff of a face to ogle her as always.

  Quinn gave a fake smile, sucking in her breath as he passed by her. He was an awkward man, shorter than her at five-foot-five, and so noisy as he rattled and banged down the hallway.

  The elevator dinged, slowly opening up for Quinn to enter. It had been an extra long shift. It was late and she was tired, and so ready to take a hot shower and crawl into bed for the night. She was struggling to pay her bills and the last couple days had brought nothing but stress. The casting call she’s planned to go to had been canceled and Jordan had been busy with his own job.

  “Oh, come on,” she grumbled, making her way out of the elevator; she couldn’t find her keys in her mess of a purse. Focusing on the task at hand, she finally snatched her keys out from a pile of makeup and tissues

  “Holy shit!” Quinn gasped, staring at her apartment door standing wide open, her rose-colored sectional in plain view from the hallway. There was no way she’d left it open, she thought, hurrying into her apartment.

  “Percy!” she called out. Her Siamese cat slowly made his way from underneath her coffee table. Quinn dropped to her knees to pet her cat, the matter of the opened door momentarily forgotten. Suddenly her senses kicked back in sending her into panic mode. She clutched one hand to her chest, holding the wall with the other as she lightly crept down the hallway to her bedroom. She lived in a one-bedroom apartment, so there weren’t many hiding places for an intruder. She didn’t have a lot and she couldn’t think of a single thing someone would want to take from her.

  As she pushed her bedroom door open, she held her breath, closing her eyes tightly in fear of what was about to happen. Her mind raced with thoughts of a crazed ax-wielding hillbilly, hacking her body to pieces, and then feasting on her insides. But the only thing revealing itself on the other side was her bed and dresser. And her sheer rose petal curtain that glistened in her lamp’s low light that sat neatly on her dresser.

  “You’re being paranoid,” she scolded herself. At the moment, she was more concerned with Percy taking off than having found the door open. Quinn pulled her silver barrette from her sandy blonde hair setting it on her dresser. She shook her wet hair out in front of her mirror and quickly removed her clothes. Wearing only her underwear, she headed for the shower. A reminder of Vinnie in the form of a faint bruise remained on her stomach.

  Percy gave a long meow rubbing his plump body across her ankle like a slinky ball of fur. She smiled and patted the top of his head. Percy had been a gift from her mom when Quinn had decided to move to LA. He was just a kitten then and her mom hoped he would be the perfect companion for her while she was so far from home.

  The shower kicked on spraying the plastic curtain. It hissed like an old hose. She pulled the last of her clothes off dropping them at her feet, the water instantly gratifying, her muscles and spirit calming right away.

  ***

  Jordan unlocked Quinn’s apartment door, he knew she was off work and should be home. He tossed his keys on her coffee table, making his way into the kitchen. He was hungry, but she was never one to have much food around. He groaned wishing she were more like her older sisters in the cooking department. They knew their way around a kitchen. Quinn could burn toast.

  “Yuk,” he said loudly as the horrible stench of old Chinese food hit his nose. He chucked it into the sink, nearly tripping over her spoiled cat, Percy. Percy planted himself in the middle of the tiny kitchen letting out an annoying meow, staring up at Jordan with big blue eyes. Jordan knew the drill; he eyed his food dish knowing it was empty.

  “If it wasn’t for me, you’d be dead by now, I’m sure of it,” he said to Percy. Petting the top of the cat’s head, he poured some cat food into Percy’s dish.

  Upon closer inspection of the kitchen cupboards, a packet of ramen noodles and some oatmeal was all that remained. Jordan shook his head, annoyed with her lack of normalcy. Eating one meal a day at work seemed to be enough to sustain Quinn. He thought it was unhealthy and not in her best interest

  “Oh, babe!” he called out, heading down the tiny hallway, his head nearly touching the ceiling. He’d told her to move closer to the city. The apartments were better in the city, but she wanted to be closer to the beach and nightlife. So she continued to put up with her run-down apartment. Jordan perked up at the sound of the shower; he stood still watching Quinn’s blurry silhouette, the water filling the silence. Steam floated into the bedroom like a thick night fog. He made his way to the bathroom and with barely any effort, peered over the shower curtain, making Quinn scream.

  “It’s me!” he yelled over her shrieking, as she fell backward into the shower wall, sliding to the floor. He held back laughter as he yanked the curtain open, not caring if the water hit him. He helped her up, checking to make sure she wasn’t hurt.

  “You can’t do that Jordan. You scared the hell out of me. Were you here earlier?” she asked, relieved he was here now.

  “No, I just got off work. I haven’t seen you in a couple days, so I swung by on the way home,” he said, handing her a towel.

  “Oh,” she said, lost in thought. Jordan took notice almost instantly.

  “Everything all right?” he asked, watching her towel off her body. He held back the urge to attack her; she didn’t seem in the mood.

  “Yeah, fine, how was your day?” Quinn asked, avoiding talk of finding her door ajar when she got home. She knew Jordan would only freak out; she might have left it unlocked for all she knew. She kissed him.

  “It was long, and I missed you,” Jordan said, back scooping her wet hair up in his hands, his fingers tangling.

  “I missed you, too,” she said back, cracking a tiny hint of a smile.

  “You could always come back to my place with me,” he suggested, pulling her close. He pulled the towel from her hands tossing it on the floor.

  “Or you could just stay here. I don’t want to leave, I have to be at work early tomorrow.” She groaned, just thinking about going to that hellhole was depressing.

  “Take the day off. I’ll pay you triple what you would make. We can spend the morning in bed,” Jordan said, backing her out of the bathroom.

  “God, you make me sound like a prostitute,” she said, a bit offended by his need to toss his money around.

  “I just want to see you for more than twenty minutes. I miss you, babe,” he said, kissing her face repeatedly; he pushed her down on the bed.

  “It’s the only job I have right now, I can’t lose it. I barely have rent this month as it is,” s
he said. She felt him nod as he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his perfect abs. He tossed his shirt at her, and it landed on her head. Quinn laughed at his playfulness. This pleased Jordan, it wasn’t often he got a laugh out of her.

  “I was thinking,” he began. He swatted at Quinn’s hands as she tried undoing his belt.

  “About me?” she inquired, swatting him back and yanking at his belt buckle.

  “Of course. But I was thinking about maybe us moving in together.” Jordan waited for a response. She responded by stopping what she’d been doing. She dropped her hands from his jeans as a look of shock crossed her face.

  The pantry closet was small, but there was enough room for the masked intruder to hide away. Percy hissed at the figure who’d invaded his territory, not making a difference in his ascent to the front door. Quinn and Jordan has been none the wiser that they’d had a visitor.

  Ethan

  Ethan mulled over all the newspaper articles in front of him. He sat at the old wooden table in the center of the library near his school. He was still trying to figure out details of his mother’s death.

  Sam Peters, the man who currently sat in prison for her murder, was of Columbian descent. He’d learned that his family was dangerous and surrounded by controversy. The newspapers spoke of royalty, and he wasn’t sure if this was factual or whether the newspaper had just stretched the truth.

  Ethan set the paper down, trying to imagine what his mother had been thinking shacking up with a man of supposed royalty.

  Neal and Austin, Ethan’s classmates came up behind him. It was clear he was lost in thought. Neal swooped in, banging his fist on the table, trying his best to scare Ethan.

  “Shit, man!” Ethan said, gasping. Yep, mission accomplished; Neal had spooked him. It seemed he was getting easier to spook these days. Austin pulled the newspaper across the table, surveying his find.

  “What’s this, man?” he asked, staring intently. Ethan did his best to pull it away, but Austin’s long fingers held the paper in place.

  “Are you digging up information on this dude that whacked your mom?” Neal asked. Neal and Austin were Ethan’s best friends on campus. They knew all his dirt, all the girls he slept with. They also knew about his mother’s death. And how he had three of the hottest sisters they’d ever seen.

  “I was just reading, curious about a few things,” Ethan explained, staring back at the papers.

  “How come you’re not in my jeep hightailing it to Rig Spring to hike your ass off, bro?” Austin asked, slapping him forcefully on the shoulder.

  “Look Ethan, I feel for you. I really do. But they have the man in custody. So what good does it do to dwell on things?” Neal asked, pulling up a seat. He worked the chair backward straddling it with his tall frame. He was a massive six-foot-four, arms and legs like tree trunks. Ethan always felt like a prepubescent boy whenever he was around. Neal was a good guy, and despite his immature antics and remarks, he really did have a good heart.

  “She was sleeping with him. I did a little research back home, and a lot of people don’t think he did it, including me. So that can only mean the real killer is running around out there somewhere,” Ethan said, letting out a sigh of relief. It felt good to be able to finally talk to someone about his theories. He had tried for days to reach Charley, but she hadn’t returned any of his calls.

  Neal and Austin studied him closely, both of them a bit uncomfortable and unsure of what to say to the kid. It wasn’t often that a college pal found himself investigating his mother’s murder. “It could be a lot of different things. He could have been a pissed-off lover or part of a crime family like the newspaper had pointed out. Or maybe it was just a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s just not clear,” Neal offered. He couldn’t help but take notice of the bold headline speaking of crime lords with royal ties—just like a scene out of a mobster movie.

  Austin scratched his head, running his hand through his coarse, black curls. He knew nothing of crime families and royalty. He did know, however, that he was ready to get on with their hiking expedition.

  Everly

  Everly grumbled at the screeching alarm, doing her best to pull its insides out. She was hung over from the night before; heavy drinking was her only way to stomach being that close to Ryan. As she rolled over, she almost died at the sight of him in her bed, as he laid amongst her down pillows, swaddled in her Egyptian cotton sheets and sickeningly expensive cotton comforter.

  She shot up in bed feeling ill. Pulling the covers back, she held her breath hoping she was clothed.

  “Oh my god,” she screamed, as she kicked and pawed her way out of bed.

  She dashed into her bathroom hardly able to contain herself as she realized a lot had to have happened since she was naked. Hurrying back out to the bed, she tore the blankets off Ryan revealing his equally naked body.

  “Hey there,” he said. He took a long stretch displaying all his parts with no embarrassment; she crossed her arms turning away in a flash.

  “How did you end up here in my bed, Ryan?” she grumbled.

  “By way of cab,” he said, sitting up. After giving her a couple minutes to stew in her embarrassment, he decided to cave.

  “We didn’t do anything. We both got way too tipsy and you demanded I stay at your place. And oddly enough sleep naked, you said something about your thread count that the clothes had to go.” He shrugged, still confused. He hadn’t remembered Everly being so anal about everything in her life; she used to be a lot of fun. When had she become such an old stick-in-the-mud?

  “Well good,” she said quietly, hurrying to get dressed. She wasn’t ready to make that move--she was used to Vinnie. And even if he took home some bimbo, she wasn’t willing to reciprocate.

  Ryan appeared in the bathroom doorway watching Everly get dressed.

  “You were always swan like,” he said.

  Everly stared, eyeing him oddly, as she zipped up her jeans.

  “What does that even mean?” she asked, sliding her lilac tank top over her head, her hair quickly falling back into place. Ryan admired her thin frame, her pale skin.

  “I don’t know, maybe it was the ballet you used to do. But there was something about you, like a graceful swan. Now you’re like a robot on its last leg,” he said, not concerned that he just offended her.

  “Well thanks,” she scoffed, not caring if Ryan was making fun of her or not. She grabbed her brush and with a few rough strokes, she brushed her hair, admiring herself in the mirror. Satisfied with how she looked, she set the brush down on her dresser top.

  “I’m just saying, at one time you were a free spirit and you really enjoyed life,” Ryan said, lifting the toilet seat. Everly rolled her eyes, making her way out as he started to urinate right in front of her.

  “I do enjoy life,” she muttered. She was beginning to think everyone near and dear to her thought the same thing. Seconds after the toilet flushed Ryan appeared, still naked.

  “You’re too perfect; everything in this condo is perfect. When did you get like this?” he asked, crossing her bedroom. Everything on a flat surface was perfectly lined. Her clothes in her huge closet all color coordinated. Her shoes all kept in the right spot on the floor, not a single thing out of place. It was just so neat. Her TV sat alone on her plain white stand. Ryan looked from one end of the room to another trying to find one thing out of place. He found nothing more than a bed, which Everly was busily making.

  “How have you been since your mom died?” he finally asked. He knew she wasn’t okay. He had known her long enough, and this was nothing like the Everly that once filled him full of laughter.

  She picked at the comforter, pulling the tiniest piece of lint off, ignoring Ryan. When did she get like this? She’d been like this for years. She wasn’t sure why, nor did she care to figure it out. Her life had been sucked dry of everything that she once loved. But she never could place a finger on why it was that way. Her mother once told her she thought she
was depressed. Everly wasn’t sure she believed that. So she ignored it and tried to make everything around her appear perfect. If all was perfect, she couldn’t complain. Without complaints, she’d never be unhappy.

  “You’re not happy, Everly. It’s hard to figure you out. You didn’t seem happy with that foreign guy. He’s gone now, and you’re still unhappy.” Ryan sat down on the end of the bed.

  “For the last time, he’s Russian.” She bit her tongue—he’d irritated her—and couldn’t bring herself to look into his eyes.

  “Are you happy, Ev?” Ryan asked sincerely.

  “Look Ryan, my life is good. I have a great job; I make a lot of money. I have an amazing condo and I can live where I want to live and do what I want to do. So, yeah, I am happy. I’m just having…a moment. It will end soon, I’m sure of it,” she said.

  But that wasn’t what she’d wanted to say to him at all. She wanted to tell him how angry she was whenever she thought about him, and how she’d pined away for him for so long. She wanted to tell him how she couldn’t trust a man again after what he’d done to her. She also wanted to slap him silly for being the cause of her ridiculous relationship with Vinnie. But she didn’t say any of those things—she shoved it down deep like she always did.

  Charley

  Charley had forgotten how cold Central Park was in the winter.

  “I can totally see why you love living here,” Adrian said, holding onto to her gloved hand. They made their way down the trail, the dead trees hovering overhead.

  “It’s always alive, there is something always going on. It makes me feel small and unnoticed,” she explained.

  That was the way she liked it. In New York, she got swallowed up amongst the towering buildings and the crowds of people. In the small Ohio town she’d grown up in, she stuck out like a sore thumb. She’d always hated the attention she got. But, here, she could remain anonymous and unnoticed.