Standing in the Shadows (McClouds & Friends #2)(23)

"Worry about what?" Erin's voice was getting sharper.

"About me staying in the city with Billy for a while."

"Staying where, Cin?"

Cindy ignored her question. "I was going nuts in that sleepy town. Nobody does anything but study during exam week, so I—"

"What about your exams?" Erin burst out. "Why aren't you studying, too? Your scholarship was contingent on keeping your GPA—"

"See? I told you. This is why I didn't call. I knew you'd get all self-righteous on me. Billy offered to take me—"

"Who is this Billy?" she demanded. "Where did you meet him?"

"Billy is great," Cindy snapped. "He's the best thing that's happened in my shitty life since Dad got thrown in jail. I'm just taking a break from that tight-ass place and having some fun—"

"Cin, what kind of fun?" Her voice was a nervous squeak.

Cindy giggled. It was a trilling, mindless sound, so unlike her normal laughter that it made Erin's flesh creep. "Like, please," she said. "As if you'd know what fun was if it pinched you on the butt. Take a chill pill, Erin. I'm with Billy. I'm safe, I'm fine. I'm over the moon."

Erin was bewildered by the wall that had suddenly risen up between her and her sister. "Cin, we have to talk. We've got to figure out how you can stay in school. Your scholarship—"

"Oh, don't worry." Cindy giggled again. "My financial problems are at an end. That scholarship is, like, so minor, Erin."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Panic was clutching at her chest, making her heart pound. "Cindy, you can't just—"

"Don't get your panties in a wad. There are lots of ways to make money. More than I ever thought, and Billy is showing me how to—huh? What? Oh… yeah, totally. Billy says to tell you that college is overrated. A big fat waste of time and money. Who cares about Chaucer or counterpoint or Freud or the Industrial Revolution, anyhow? I mean, like, get real. It's all just theory. Life is to be lived. In the moment."

"Cindy, you're scaring me to death."

"Relax already. I'm just trying my wings. It's so normal. Just because you never wanted to party doesn't mean I can't, does it? Don't say anything to Mom, though, OK? She'd go ballistic for sure."

"Listen, I need to talk to you about Mom, too—"

" 'Bye, Erin. Don't call me, I'll call you. And don't worry! Everything will be totally cool." The connection abruptly broke.

Erin redialed the number. The prerecorded message informed her that the party she was trying to call was unreachable.

Like she didn't already know.

She slammed the phone down and curled up on her bed. She fished the matchbook that had Connor's phone number written on it out of her pocket, and stared at it.

Anything happens, anything at all, call me, he'd said. Promise me.

She was so tempted to call him and sob out all her problems to him. He was so warm and strong. He beckoned like a lighthouse in a storm. She wiped tears angrily away. Not an option. Connor was the last person she should turn to for help. No matter how terrified she felt.

Oh, Christ. There were at least a dozen big, scary-looking vitamin pills lying on the table next to a tall glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice when Connor stumbled out of the back bathroom in the morning. Davy had the imperturbable macho-zen act down to a high art, but he still insisted on treating his younger brother like a goddamned invalid.

Davy glanced at him, jerked his head toward the vitamins, and narrowed his eyes, as if to say, Don't even think of struggling.

"I start with coffee, not orange juice," Connor grumbled.

"This is my house. I am boss in my house. If you swallow them all down without giving me any shit, I will give you some coffee," Davy said. "And then we'll go over the Mueller stuff."

That snapped his mind to instant alertness. "Find anything interesting?"

Davy gave him an oblique look. "Want some breakfast?"

Connor yawned. "Hell, yes." His stomach was groaning.

Davy blinked. "I'll be damned. I'll go put on some eggs and ham for you. Two eggs or three?"

"Four," Connor said.

A grin split Davy's stern face. He vanished into the kitchen.

Connor was frowning at a weird transparent amber pill when Sean wandered out onto the porch. "What is this crap?" he asked plaintively. "It looks like a congealed glob of oil."

"It is a congealed glob of oil, you ignorant slob. Four hundred ECU of vitamin E in a gel capsule. Good for skin, nails, hair, and scar tissue. Take it. You need all the help you can get." Sean placed a mug of coffee in front of him. "Davy says if the pills are gone, you can drink this."

Connor studied his brother's sartorial splendor with wondering eyes. Sean always looked well-groomed, even when he just rolled out of bed. Some recessive gene that Connor had utterly failed to inherit.

Sean was decked out in a wine-red sweater that showed off all his muscles. Tight designer jeans. Hair mussed into perfect stylish disorder. A whiff of expensive aftershave drifted over and assailed Connor's nose.

He closed his eyes against Sean's blinding glory and swallowed down the gummy capsule. "What are you still doing here?"