Page 5 of Skin Deep

Chapter2

Harrison

Keely picked me up from the airport the next night and gave me the third degree on the way to my apartment.

“You’re only giving me basics,” she said. “You’re hiding something from me.”

I leaned forward and turned the radio up.

She rolled her eyes and turned it down. “We’ve played this game before. Rod is not going to stop me from talking, just like mam could never drown us out with music when we were fighting in the back seat.”

Turning my face, I eyed her.

“What?” She glanced at me and then turned her face back to the road.

“What do you know about Rod?”

“Umm…he’s English. Has a few sexy songs. His last name is Stewart...”

“Listen to Rod,” I said, realizing she meant the singer on the radio, not Rod the future dead guy back in Boston. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

She blew out heavy breath. “Is Lachlan in trouble?”

I didn’t answer her right away, but I knew I had to say something to her, or she’d go to Boston in her wheezing hooptie and find out for herself. “Not yet.”

“Not yet,” she repeated. Her eyes narrowed. “That means he’s heading toward it.”

“He’s always been in that lane,” I said.

“No.” She shook her head. “He switched lanes before the bitch did what she did.”

There was a reason why our brother had a chest full of ink. One side was the profile of Jesus, and the other side was the profile of the devil. They faced off. It represented the struggle Lachlan always had in life to do the right thing.

After he met Ivy (the woman who left him and was referred to asthe bitchforeverafter), he’d wanted to change his life around. Especially when she told him she was pregnant. He’d said that he hadn’t realized what true responsibility was until he was going to be a father. Then she did what she did, and that was that. He was back on the same track, but this time he was using the pub as an excuse instead of dealing with his issues.

We were quiet until Kee pulled up to my apartment. I sighed and she sighed.

“Thanks for the lift,” I said, turning to grab my bag from the back seat.

“Shut up.” She punched me in the arm. “You only thank me when you want something.”

“I don’t want anything,” I said.

“You do.”

“What do I want then?”

“Usually—” she shrugged “—to know how Mari’s been doing.”

“You heard from her?”

“Not as much lately,” she said. “But Caspar keeps in touch with me. She’s been a bit flakey, but he said she’s there more than she’s not. So at least we know she’s still working and getting a paycheck.”

I ran a hand through my hair. “Text me when you get home so I know you made it.”

She stared at me, and the weight of it stopped me from getting out of the car. “You think Lach will be okay?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll take care of it.”

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