Page 29 of The Souls We Claim
“Shh,” a voice whispers. Then Arianne’s head appears over the back of the sofa. “I finally got her to sleep.”
As I walk farther into the living room, I see Lola asleep in a little bassinet on a rocker that Dad built for me when I was born; he’d been hoarding it in the attic ever since I grew out of it. There’s a blanket over Arianne, and her eyes are heavy like she was napping too.
“Shit. Didn’t mean to wake you.” I keep my voice low, one eye on Lola.
Arianne rubs her hands over her face, and I try not to notice the way her elbows squish her tits together. They’re not the biggest I’ve ever seen. In fact, they might be smaller than I’m used to. But they’re real and fucking cute.
“It’s okay. It’s time I got moving.”
I tip my head in the direction of the kitchen. “Meet you in there.”
When I wander into the kitchen, I open the fridge and pull out a beer. The top pops with a hiss of air. It’s cold, refreshing, and surprisingly grounding. You can’t beat that feeling of knowing you are home after a long day. Walking into a place that’s calm is a necessity.
I’ve always believed in the concept of being king of your own castle. Doesn’t matter whether it’s a literal castle, or a two-hundred-and-fifty-square-foot apartment. It’s yours. Whether you rent or own. Make it your place. Treat it like it’s priceless. Clean it. Put your shit away. Don’t accumulate stuff you don’t need. Don’t buy clothes for a life you don’t lead.
Minimalism helps reduce mental clutter too.
That desire is part of the reason I never particularly wanted kids. They come withstuff.Lots of stuff that grows around the place like black mold—unsightly and tough to get rid of.
As I close the fridge door, I see there’s a tray of chicken in some seasoning in one of my dishes. I’m guessing this is the groceries Arianne was trying to purchase this morning, and I can’t lie to myself—I like the idea she thought of cooking me a meal and went to the trouble of buying it.
“Chicken,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Nothing fancy. I just wanted to say thank you…you know, for letting me stay for a few nights. We didn’t talk about that. But I’m hoping you’re going to let me stay at least another night.”
“You wanna make a deal with me, Arianne?” I ask.
“What’s that?”
“I’ll help you get back on your feet if you look after Lola for me.”
Arianne’s mouth opens wide, then closes. “What? You will?”
“I know the contents of Dad’s will. His estate is split between me and Lola.”
“None of it was left to my sister?”
I shake my head. “Mercy and my dad had a complicated relationship that was more to do with the motorcycle club than it was to do with love. In fact, Dad was worried that his money was the reason Mercy was with him.”
“That sounds awful,” Arianne says. “I wonder what it says about us that we both ended up with men who didn’t really love us.”
I let it wash that she doesn’t mention the flaws in her sister’s behavior. “Either way, Dad knew Mercy would take the money and quite possibly leave Lola behind. So, he made sure the will left the money to Lola, to be controlled by me.”
“Now I’m confused. How does this all come together?”
I point towards the chair at the table and we both take a seat. “You ever heard of ahouse mouse, kitten?”
“Briar and Iris were talking about it. As long as you don’t think I’m a sweet butt. Because I’m not sleeping with you.”
I almost choke. The words from her lips do something to me. “No sex.” Even though it would be so fucking tempting. “A house mouse is a woman who cooks and cleans and looks after the house for a biker in return for accommodation and food, mainly. You’d have to look after Lola too. So I could pay you for that.”
“Really?”
“How about this? We clean up Dad’s house for sale. I flip houses. Did all the work in here myself. I’m actually in the process of renovating the en suite in my bedroom. So, I pause doing this one up, fix up his, and I sell it. I take the amount meant for Lola and invest it in a place around here in her name. You can move with her into it. I’ll help with money each month for her. Instead of paying for a daycare spot that I can’t seem to find, I’ll pay you instead. And you won’t have to pay rent.”
I’m not sure what the look of shock on her face means, but I’m a sucker for wide eyes and fat lips, and it’s really fucking hard to not lean in and kiss her. Because imagining those wide eyes on me while I came this morning sent a mundane wank into the stratosphere.
“You shouldn’t have to pay me to look after my niece,” she says.
“The way I see it, I can’t look after Lola. I got shit I need to do for my club. I’m away a lot. It’s complicated. You need to get away from your husband because it’s equally complicated. And Lola needs someone to love her and look after her so she can feel secure. Solves all our problems if you agree to look after her, and I pay you to do it while you live somewhere rent free. Take care of her and shit.”
