“Paula for…money. Said no one will hire her. And, she feels she has the right to what I earn running Ripley’s.” He gently taps his forehead on the steering wheel and chuckles when he sees my amusement. “Yeah. I know. When it comes to Paula, I’m banging my head against…well, the steering wheel. She’s not going to change, is she?”
I give a helpless shrug. “Only if she wants to.”
“Melody was shoving her tits at me and?—”
I glare at him. Jealousy sprouts, raw and furious.
He grins. “Don’t like that, do you?”
I swallow. Where did that come from?
Come on, Faith, be honest. You think of Cain as your boyfriend. You think he’s yours.
“No,” I whisper. “I don’t.”
He strokes a finger down my cheek. “I only want you.”
Tears prick my eyes. My heart begins to beat faster.
I only want him, too.
“What did Melody want besides in your pants?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood.
This makes him smile. “What else? They both want me to foot their bill. Apparently, the money they stole was spent on makeup. How much money can a woman spend on that shit?”
I give him a wry look. “As someone who shops at CVS’s sales bin, I may not be the right person to answer that.”
My makeup routine is simple: the cheapest moisturizer I can find—my skin gets dry—plus eyeliner and tinted lip balm. All together, it costs me less than fifteen bucks and lasts at least a couple of months if I’m careful.
Cain leans back in the seat and rubs a hand over his jaw, the tension etched deep in his face. “She blames me. My little sister. Told me she hates me. And the worst part is…I believe her.” He exhales hard. “My parents have told her not to expectanything from them. They’re handling it better than I am—stoic, detached.”
“It’s easier for them,” I say gently, “because she’s not showing up at their doorstep. She’s not in their face.”
He nods, slowly. “Still…I feel like I failed her. Like I should’ve done more. Been better. Raised her different.”
“She’s not your kid, Cain.”
He turns his head, looking at me, eyes dark with guilt. “Then why do I feel so damn responsible?”
“Because you always have,” I say, then add with a soft edge of teasing, “She’s only five years younger than you, Cain. She isn’t your child—she’s your sister. You didn’t raise her. That was never supposed to be your job.”
He looks at me intently, like he’s searching for something steady in the middle of all the things he can’t fix.
“She’s a grown woman. She made her choices,” I continue.
“I feel like I enabled her.”
I reach over, touch his hand. “You did what you did out of love. She took advantage of you, and that’s on her.”
He nods slowly. Silence falls again. Softer this time.
“Come inside,” I say, surprising both of us.
He doesn’t move at first, like he’s making sure he heard me right.
Then he does.
He follows me up the narrow stairs, through the creaky door.
