Page 97 of Wicked Sins

She lays on her side, and I hurriedly pull the blanket over her before sliding into the shadows behind the curtain.

I’m sure my heart’s beating so loud that anyone in a ten-mile radius can hear it.

Dad walks into the room, scans it, and seems about to walk out again. Relief sweeps through me. But then he pauses and glances over at the couch. He shouldn’t be able to see Candy from where he’s standing, but somehow, he notices something amiss.

“There you are,” he says, coming around the side of the couch. “I’ve been looking for you.”

He sounds…different. Rougher than usual. Then a smell hits my nose.

Cigarette smoke.

What the fuck? He stopped smoking the day Emma was born.

I tense when he crouches beside the couch. “You awake?”

Candy stirs a little, but doesn’t reply.

“Where were you?”

“Here,” Candy says.

“Bullshit, I checked.”

My hands are in fists, but unless I really want to fuck up this situation, all I can do it watch. All it will take is my dad noticing the smell in the air, or the mess I made of Candy’s usually sleek hair…just one little sign to prompt him toward further investigation.

But I guess he’s been drowning his sorrows too—there’s a little sway in him when he reaches out for her.

Don’t you fucking touch her.

As if he hears my silent command, he hesitates, and then pulls back his hand. “Your mother’s gone to stay with your aunt for a few days. Said to bring you too as soon as you surfaced. But, uh…I’d rather not drive so far in the dark. We’ll go tomorrow, okay?”

Candy murmurs something.

My father sighs. “You should get to bed.”

He stands, as if waiting for her to rise.

When she doesn’t, he grimaces down at her. “As stubborn as your fucking mother,” he spits out, before turning on his heel and striding out of the room.

I count to ten while my heart thunders away in my throat, and let out a relieved sigh when I hear him climbing the stairs.

I’m at Candy’s side a moment later.

She watches me with wide eyes, but doesn’t sit up. Doesn’t move.

“Get up,” I say. “You have to get to bed.”

Reluctantly, she pushes up to a sit, wincing as she fumbles to keep her pajama top closed. I stand, but she doesn’t rise with me. “Hey, it’s okay. He’s gone.”

“He’s lying.”

I crouch, put my hand on her knee. “What do you mean?”

She shakes her head, eyes wide. “Joah, my momhatesher sister. They haven’t spoken in years.” Another shake of her head. “She would never go stay with her.”

I shrug. “Why would he lie?”

Her blue eyes drill into me before she blinks and looks away. “I don’t know.”

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