The Sweet Under His Skin (30 page)

Quentin's thumb came under her chin and he titled her head up, and when Arielle saw herself she stopped breathing, staring at herself.

She was silent, stunned. Quentin seemed worried. "Arielle, say something."

She didn't know what to say. She didn't know how round her head was. She had no idea her eyes were that big. Suddenly she could really see her cheekbones. On their own her hands were up and running over her head, hooking on the back of her neck.

"That's what I really look like," she said, absently.

"Yeah," he agreed. "That's how beautiful you are, Arielle."

Her eyes skipped over to his reflection, and his face was soft, open, honest.

Arielle's hands clutched where the towel was tucked closed. She felt the tears, noticed her lip quiver. "I am?"

"How many times I gotta say it, babe?" The humor was back in his voice, and it made her smile. "I'm starting to think you just like hearing it." She shook her head, hand to her cheek. He closed a hand around her neck and pulled her to him to kiss her head. "You want me to clean this up?"

"No, I can. Thanks."

He kissed her cheek next, gave her a squeeze around the waist, then left her there with her reflection and the last of her armor on the floor. She was pulling the vacuum out of the closet when the phone rang. Arielle snagged the extension in the bedroom. "Hello?"

"Arielle Taylor?"

"Yes?"

"This is Doctor Sarin. I'm calling with good news."

Her grip tightened on the receiver. "You are?"

"Jolene's woken up. She's alert, responsive, and it appears her brain function has not been affected." Arielle couldn't say anything. "Miss Taylor?"

"Sorry, I'm just…I'm relieved."

"We're moving her to a regular observation room for a few days, but I think she'll be ready to go home very soon."

"Really?"

"She's malnourished, detoxing as we speak. But I think the worst of it passed while she was in her coma. She's…she's quite desperate to see you."

Arielle's guilt returned, her big-sister-throwing-little-sister-out guilt. "Uh…can I come today?"

"Absolutely. Visiting hours are until five."

She took a deep breath. "Thank you so much."

"My pleasure, Miss Taylor. She'll be so excited to see you."

Quentin tilted his head. "Listen, Arielle. I told you. You're my girl." She scratched her scalp under the scarf she'd tied around her head. It was blue, like her eyes, and he still couldn't believe she was this gorgeous without her hair.

"Quentin, I'm…scared."

"You think I'm gonna let you get hurt?"

She shook her head. "Quentin—"

He slid his hand around her waist,pulling her against him. "C’mon. Take a ride with me."

"I've never been on a motorcycle."

He couldn't help himself. "Let me be your first, babe," he said low, kissing the side of her neck, loving the sound of her giggling, embarrassed.

"You have to go slow."

"Slow and gentle, I promise."

She rolled her eyes. "Cut it out."

He gave her a look of shock. "I'm talking about the bike, what're you thinking about, dirty girl?"

She closed her eyes then covered her face. "Fine," she relented. "Just don't get me hurt."

He plopped a helmet on her head and fastened the chin strap. He knew he was grinning but he didn't care. "Hold onto me, and don't fight me. If you think you're capable of that."

She gave him a coquettish look and he had to check himself from going complete sap on her. Fun Arielle likely was his favourite.

Quentin pulled his helmet on, then swung a leg over his Dyna. "Behind me, babe." When he sat she climbed on, holding onto his shoulders then settling into his back, wrapping her arms tight around him and linking her hands on his stomach. "You ready?"

"Sure," she replied, somewhat tense, and he was smirking as he kicked the bike alive. He walked them down the drive, then once they were on the street he gave her right knee a squeeze and took off, making sure the tires squealed. When they did, so did Arielle.

As fun as this was, he was nervous about her seeing her sister. Jolene had some bad stories, and he was going to let her tell Arielle what happened. And if she lied, God help her, he was going to make her tell the truth.

Broken Hill Hospital was a five minute ride from their neighborhood, and Quentin was wishing it was longer. There was something about riding with his woman holding onto him, trusting him. It was fucking fantastic. He never let any broad ride on his bike but with Arielle, it felt right. Everything felt right.

He parked and let her dismount first, watching as she unfastened the chin strap. He couldn't miss the color in her face and the brightness of her eyes.

"So, how was that?" Her grin was breathtaking.

"That was fun."

"See? I told you."

"I want to learn to ride."

Quentin's eyebrows went up. "No."

"What? Why not?"

He pulled his helmet off. "Same reason I'm not telling you how I make scrambled eggs. If you're on a bike, it's mine."

She handed over the helmet when he reached for it. "What? Why?"

"I told you. You're mine, Arielle."

She sighed. "That seems unfair."

"Baby, anytime you want to ride on this bike you just ask. That's the deal."

All that got him was another sassy look. He stowed the helmets away and found himself taking her hand with a grin as they crossed the parking lot. She let him, grasping his palm to hers as they found the visitor's desk and then rode the elevator to the third floor. The doctor he'd pestered for a full day when the sister was first admitted stood at the nurse's station, and when she turned and saw them she wasn't smooth enough to hide her surprise, looking right at their joined hands.

"Arielle," the doctor greeted her warmly. "You're looking fantastic, I have to say."

Arielle grinned as her cheeks turned pink. "Thank you."

"She's in room two-twelve. Go right on in."

They went down the hall the doc indicated, room two-twelve only a couple doors in. He stopped short, turning Arielle around. "I’m here for you. You know that, right?" he said, dropping her hand to take her by the shoulders.

"Yes. Thank you for coming," she whispered, biting her lip. "Why am I nervous to see her?" Quentin shrugged. "Okay," she breathed, blinking rapidly. "Here I go."

He kissed her forehead and stepped away, hands dropping to his sides. She headed for the door, squared her shoulders and passed through. Quentin parked himself on a vinyl-covered bench in the hall to wait. Just as he found a comfortable position his cell phone rang. He dug it out of his back pocket, flipped it open and brought it to his ear. "Yeah?"

"Where are you?" It was Bishop.

"The hospital. Arielle's sister woke up." Silence ensued for a few seconds.“Bishop, you there? Did you hear me? She’s awake.”

"Yeah, uh, that's good. We… might be able to use her." Quentin frowned. "Reuben is sort of a traveling salesman, as it turns out. He's all over South California, and he's headed this way to enforce his distribution in Portus Felix."

Quentin rubbed his forehead. "I've been waiting for that. I was wondering how long it would take before we pissed him off."

"Flynn told you about the dealer Joel found in Ramsfield?"

"Yeah, he filled me in last night."

"Joel's got him answering calls from Reuben."

"How's he doing that?"

"I expect it's under physical duress. But the guy's cooperating for now. Reuben's scheduled to be here tomorrow, asked Joel's dealer to meet him. We're showing up instead."

Quentin's hand tightened on the phone so hard he heard the plastic crack. "Flynn told me how the girl ended up here. I hate that kind of shit, Bishop."

"I know, Quentin. But remember; we took care of the dealer that brought her here. If I remember correctly, you and Flynn made your feelings known."

Somehow remembering the feel of nose cartilage snapping under his fist wasn't enough to quell the sick anger in his gut. "Don't get me wrong," Quentin said carefully. "The girl wasn't anything special to me, you know that."

"So it seems."

"Well she's important to Arielle and that's why none of this feels better until Reuben's been neutralized. We all want this prick and his asshole friends out of town. And if they're dealing in front of my girl's house, beating people up on her lawn, we need to get him gone. I need you for that, Bishop."

"You got me, Quentin. You know that. Club tonight, okay?"

"When?"

"Seven. Mandy's doing supper before that."

"How come?"

"It's been a while. Maybe…maybe you should bring that girl."

Quentin nearly laughed. Bishop was as good at 'pretending' as Quentin was. "Is this so the guys can meet her?"

"What'd you think?"

Quentin just shook his head. "We'll be there for supper."

"Good. That gets rid of one headache anyway."

"Later," Quentin replied and flipped his phone shut. After a few more moments of chilling his heels the door in front of him opened and Arielle stepped out. Her face was splotchy, eyes were red, but she gave him a smile anyway. Quentin got to his feet, reaching for her on instinct. "You okay?"

"Yeah. She's up, tired, but…I think she's going to be okay."

Quentin narrowed his eyes. "What'd she tell you?"

"Not a lot. The usual stuff about how sorry she was. I didn't want to push."

Quentin felt his lip curl. "She didn't tell you how she got to Portus Felix?"

Arielle looked confused. "No. Why?"

Quentin reached around her and pushed the door open, striding past her into the room like he had every right to be there. The sister looked up, frowned like she was trying to place him, then her eyes got wide and she held up both hands, palms out, pleading. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to come back here. It's not my fault, I swear!" At least she remembered that.

"Quentin, what are you doing?" Arielle was hissing at him, grabbing his arm. "Don't scare her."

"She ain't that scared of me," he assured her, not letting his eyes leave the sad sack in the hospital bed.

"I'm sorry," the sister repeated, looking like she was about to start crying.

As he stared her down he realized how much she and Arielle now looked alike. Thin—too thin—eyes looking much bigger than they really were. The biggest difference was that Arielle once again was bright-eyed and vibrant. The woman in the bed still looked…wretched.

"Did you tell Arielle why you're here?" Now the girl just looked confused.

"Quentin," Arielle cautioned.

"Don't you think it's fair to warn her what you got yourself into?"

Now Arielle's eyes went to her sister. "What's he talking about?"

The lying thief looked confused, too. "I don't know," she said weakly.

"Tell her about Reuben," Quentin advised, and he watched her face get even paler, if it was possible.

"Who's Reuben?" Arielle asked, not to him, to her.

"I…I can't…"

"Tell me, Jolene. Are we in danger?" Quentin felt relief at that. Arielle was still capable of self-preservation.

The sister's face crumpled and she covered it with both hands. "I'm so sorry, Arielle!"

Now Arielle turned a panicked look on him. "I wanted her to say it," he explained gently. "Those guys that have been dealing? The ones that beat-up that guy in front of your house, roughed up Calvin? They all work for a really bad dude we're trying to find. He's a network meth dealer, he's got little operations all over Southern California. He's bad news, Arielle." Her eyes darted to Jolene, but there was no real help there. "Your sister owes him a lot of money. Then she tried to steal from him. So he sold her to a dealer he'd set up here."

Arielle frowned. "Sold her?"

"She was into him for forty grand. He felt he owned her. So he sold her and the dealer kept her for his own entertainment. He might have also pimped her out. But I don't know that for sure."

There it was; sweet Arielle, who'd made pancakes and cried while he cut her hair that morning, finding out her sister was basically trafficked back to Portus Felix because she owed a drug dealer a little less than some houses are worth. He felt like he'd just thrown filth all over her.

She blinked. A lot. Then shook her head. "No…" she whispered. "No, oh my God..."

Quentin risked a look back at the sister. She was watching Arielle, biting her nails, tears running down her face, full-body sobbing.

"We don't like drug dealers here," Quentin said, mostly for Jolene. "We're gonna get this Reuben guy to ignore Portus Felix in his grand plans. And if he won't we'll make Reuben disappear. But if we need your help, I plan on getting it without any hassle."

Jolene looked terrified. Still. "He'll kill me."

"He'll kill you either way," Quentin informed her levelly. "At least with us someone else is on the same side as you. So, are you gonna help us?" There was no answer.

Arielle broke the silence. "Jolene? These people? Do they know where I live? Where Calvin lives?"

That made the bitch drop her hands. "They took my stuff. You're in my address book. Since you moved I had to put you in there."

Arielle took a shuddering breath, and Quentin reeled her in close to his chest before she could freak out. "Not gonna touch you, babe. I swear to God I'll kill them all before they can even get near you or Calvin."

Jolene watched them, her tears drying up, something coming over her face. Quentin didn't bother trying to interpret it, he just held Arielle close and let her hang onto him until she felt better.

When Arielle did pull away from him, she wiped her eyes and said, sounding incredibly angry, "Trust me, she's helping you. Because if she doesn't then I no longer have a sister."

Chapter Nineteen

All the relief of Jolene waking up, dissolved. Of course. Because nothing could ever be great with her around, shit had to fall apart, and she had to leave the world in ruins.

What happened to Jolene had been worse than what Arielle had expected. And while it infuriated her that Jolene hadn't intended to tell her how much trouble she was in, Arielle also couldn't pretend to be surprised. All Jolene had to do to survive was lie and evade. Like a cockroach. Somehow she always survived. She still cared though, a lot. That was her little sister.