Page 59 of Sins (The Sins Trilogy 1)
“It’s okay,” Charlene says. “It’s only, like, fifteen, twenty minutes tops.”
I worry my lower lip, but she’s probably right. It bothers me that she won’t have her seatbelt on, but I hate the idea of leaving her behind alone at night more. If the cops pull me over, I’ll just have to explain the situation and hope for a warning. But what are the odds in this weather?
I start the engine and pull out of the lot. When we’re finally on the highway, Charlene opens the paper bag and pulls out a bottle of whiskey.
“Seriously?” I say, surprised. “Where did you get that?”
“Filched it from my sister’s car earlier.”
“Aren’t you, you know, underage?”
“Almost eighteen.” She blinks away tears, then takes a big swig. “I need this.”
“Well.” I clear my throat. I’m not at all comfortable with her drinking. I’m pretty sure you can’t have an open container in a car, much less drink out of it, even if you aren’t the driver. Not to mention she’s a minor, and I don’t think law enforcement will look at this kind of thing kindly if I get pulled over… “I feel bad for whatever problem you’re having, but you need to put that away. I can’t drive you home if you don’t.”
She has another drink, then sniffs and screws the cap back on. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Something major must’ve happened for her to ditch her sister and cadge a ride with a virtual stranger.
There aren’t that many cars on the road. This storm is bad enough that even Louisianians don’t want to be out in it. By the time we’re getting close to Tempérane, my Lexus is the only car on the road.
Charlene’s staring outside, occasionally wiping at her eyes. “Boys can be assholes,” she says suddenly.
“Oh my God, definitely,” I say, thinking of Tony at Cajun Milan. What the hell kind of love pushes your lover away?
“Adam’s fucking Jane.”
“Uh…” The names are familiar, but I can’t quite place them.
“The cellist and the violist.”
“Oh.” I clear my throat. “Right.”
“I caught them red-handed, and he didn’t even say he was sorry.”
Oh wow.“You and Adam were dating?”
“Yeah. Went to prom together, the whole thing. We were supposed to be…like this!” She makes some gesture I miss. She sniffles, then wipes at her face.
Poor kid. That totally sucks. “Men are stubborn and can be idiotic. Just look at me.”
“What about you?”
Normally I wouldn’t be sharing, but somehow, cocooned in the car with this girl who’s hurting and the weather raging outside, it seems okay. Feeling a bit reckless, I say, “I got a tattoo to show this guy I love him, and he…he just…”
“Flipped out?”
“Basically.” I get my purse, root around in it one-handed while keeping my eyes on the road and take the pendant out. “Look at this. He gave it to me, but he doesn’t love me enough to let me in. It’s just…weird.”
“Can I see it?” Charlene takes the pendant, turning it this way and that. “It’s gorgeous. So he gave you this, but he won’t say he loves you?”
“He says it, but he won’t let me say it. Just won’t accept that I have feelings for him. He doesn’t want my love—he won’t let me tell him or show him how I feel.”
“What a douche. I hope he gets blue balls for life.”
I don’t want Tony to have blue balls. I just want him to realize he loves and trusts me enough to let me in all the way. “Probably not going to happen,” I say. “He’s hot.”
“How come all the hot ones are so bad?”
