Breaking Skin (12 page)

The irony is that I could really use a week off, although I’d never purposely take one. Sitting under the stars, listening to the quiet is something I would never do at home. Instead I’d rehearse late into the night and worry about my grand jeté and my knee.

But as I sit here now, there’s a part of me that would rather be with my niece and the stars and the distant presence of a man who thinks I move like poetry, even though he doesn’t like me very much.

In the morning, I realize how independent Langley is. She gets dressed, brushes her teeth, and pulls her hair back into a ponytail all on her own.

“I’m impressed,” I say as she sits down at the kitchen table in front of the bowl of cereal I poured for her.

“Why?” She shovels a spoonful into her mouth.

“It’s great the way you get yourself ready for school.”

She gives me an odd look. Maybe all eight-year-olds get themselves ready for school. I honestly have no idea.

“If you finish breakfast in time, you can walk Siegfried with me before we have to leave.”

“You mean Ziggy?”

“Ziggy?”

“I gave him a nickname. I thought he could use one.”

I stifle a laugh because her tone is so serious. Ziggy. I wonder if he’ll actually answer to that.

“Did my mom call again?” she asks.

I shake my head.

“If she does, can I talk to her?”

“Of course. If you’re with me when she calls.”

Langley says nothing after that as she continues to eat. I want to ask her questions about Renee, like how she seemed last week and the week before that. Did Langley notice anything off or different? But those questions may worry her, and I don’t want to do that. It isn’t easy to act casually around her when everything feels like such a mess, but I have to. I never want to see that look of fear she wore yesterday when she learned her mother wouldn’t be home for another week.

After breakfast and a quick walk with Siegfried, we get into Renee’s car and I let Siegfried come along for the ride. As we pull out of the driveway, we see Cole and Derek get into Cole’s SUV.

“Do you ever ride to school with Derek?” I ask because it would make sense for them to carpool.

“No.”

“Why not?”

Langley shrugs. “I don’t know. Don’t forget I have soccer after school today.”

“I won’t.” I saw it on Renee’s schedule. Langley has soccer two days a week after school, and dance class one day.

Dropping Langley off at the elementary school I attended is surreal. The kids have changed and the styles have changed, but otherwise, the sprawling brick building looks exactly the same. I can’t wait to leave the place after she gets out of the car.

When I pull back into Renee’s driveway, I notice a sleek Mercedes parked in front of Cole’s house. He’s outside talking to someone and the discussion appears heated. Both men gesture at each other, and the hard set of Cole’s jaw indicates he’s not pleased by whatever the other man is saying.

As I watch, the other man gets into the Mercedes and leaves. Once he’s gone, Cole rakes his hands through his hair and his face creases with anguish. My instinct is to walk over there and see if he’s all right, but I stop myself. With how he feels about me, my appearance in his driveway probably wouldn’t help matters.

I push open the car door and Siegfried jumps out, but he doesn’t follow me to the house. Instead he walks to the far end of Renee’s yard and looks over at Cole, who still hasn’t moved. He stands there stiffly, his gaze downward, his hand at the back of his neck.

Siegfried glances at me and then back at Cole again. It’s like Siegfried can sense his pain and is helpless to ignore it. I can’t ignore it either.

When I nod at Siegfried, he trots in Cole’s direction. I’m halfway to Cole’s driveway when Siegfried reaches him.

At first Cole only looks down at him, but after a second he bends and says “hey, boy” as he offers his hand for Siegfried to sniff. He must have seen Siegfried at the studio yesterday, and he probably spotted him in the backyard last night.

“What’s his name?” Cole asks when he senses I’m close.

“Siegfried.”

“Unusual name,” he says the way everyone does.

“His last owner named him.” If I felt more comfortable, I’d tell Cole about Prince Siegfried from
Swan Lake
and how I felt he was meant to be my dog. But we’re miles from a friendly conversation like that.

Cole nods absently and keeps his gaze on Siegfried. “How long have you had him?”

“A couple of weeks.”

His brows arch up. “Really? He’s no puppy.”

“He certainly isn’t. He’s an old man, although the shelter didn’t know exactly how old. His owner died and at his age, they were afraid no one would adopt him.”

“But you did.”

I shrug, wondering if I should stick to small talk. Despite Cole’s casual tone, I can see how tense he is. I can’t pretend I don’t.

“You looked upset when we drove up. Is everything okay?”

He expels a heavy breath. “Everything’s fine.”

It’s not fine. The deep crease between his eyes and the ticking muscle in his cheek confirm that, but I suppose it’s none of my business.

“Okay. Well, nice to see you.” I cringe at my awkward politeness and turn toward Renee’s house, and Siegfried moves to follow me.

“Nichole, wait.”

“It’s Nikki,” I say, turning back. “Please call me Nikki.”

“You told me your name was Nichole that night.”

I listen for an accusation in his tone, but I don’t hear one. “You were a stranger. It seemed safer to give you that name since no one calls me by it.” I tilt my head at him. “We’re still strangers, by the way. Even though you may think you know me.”

He looks at me for a long time, and I wonder if he realizes how judgmental he’s been.

“Have you heard from Renee again?” he finally asks.

“No. Not even to check on Langley, which is surprising.”

Cole’s dark brows knit together. “Did you have any idea she intended to go somewhere?”

“No. She never said anything.”

Cole places his hand on his hip and gives me a cautious, almost probing look. That look is heavy despite his silence. As I wonder what it means, an unwelcome answer comes to mind. He slept with Renee and he wonders if I know. He wonders if she told me.

The image of Renee and Cole in bed together pops into my head and suddenly my chest grows tight. Then the image expands to include my name falling from their lips. My name along with a slew of lies and innuendo.

I cross my arms over the burn in my chest. “Anyway, I should let you go.”

Cole nods and glances at his watch. “Yeah, I have to get to work.”

Work?
“I thought you were retired.”

“From professional hockey. Not from working. I coach a couple of amateur and youth hockey leagues. Derek plays on one. I’m only thirty-four, too young to spend my days roaming the golf course.”

“Right.” I laugh politely. “Thirty-four is far too young for that.” Cole is a little older than I thought.

“You’re what? Twenty-six?”

My brows go up. Doesn’t he know it’s not polite to ask a woman her age?

“Twenty-five?”

With a chuckle, I shake my head. I may be reading him wrong, but I think he wants me to be older. Too bad I can’t accommodate him.

“I’m twenty-three.”

“Twenty-three,” he mutters under his breath like he thinks I’m jailbait. I was only twenty-one the night we were together, but his expression implies he already did that math.

Cole tells me good-bye and gives Siegfried one last pet on the head before he turns and walks back toward his driveway.

Once he’s gone, I find myself smiling. He never told me what was wrong and I didn’t expect him to, but that was the longest, most civil exchange we’ve had since I got here.

I
replay my encounter with Cole this morning, picturing the sharp cut of his jaw beneath those startling blue eyes, as I nosily search through Renee’s drawers and cabinets, looking for some clue of where she may be and with whom.

I know I shouldn’t invade her privacy, but I need information. I need to know more about my own sister. Thinking about Cole right now is better than thinking of how outraged Renee would be if she knew I was rifling through her things.

A note she scribbled with a hotel name, maybe, or an address book with the names of friends I could call, these are the things I hope to find. But I come up empty. I don’t find any hint of where she is or why she left, but I do find other things. Things I’m sure she wouldn’t want me to see, disturbing things that speak of secrets she’s been keeping. There’s a half-empty bottle of wine in her closet, and behind her shoes I find another bottle. This time it’s vodka and about a quarter full. There’s a pill bottle in her nightstand drawer. It’s empty, and the label where the information should be is blank.

I recall what Langley told me in the kitchen the other day.

“Mom lets me watch as much TV as I want on Sundays.”

“How much TV is that?”

“All day sometimes if she’s asleep.”

Asleep or passed out? Tears blur my vision and guilt burns inside my chest. My heart hurts for my sister and my niece. I’m ashamed at the way I’ve neglected Langley. Deep down I knew this was a lot for Renee to handle on her own, but each time I mailed her a check, I told myself I was helping. Now I realize that check was a poor substitute for my affection. It was for me, not for them.

I throw away the pill bottle and dump out the alcohol before tossing the bottles away. Then I straighten Renee’s bedroom, even though she’ll know I’ve been in here when she finds her secret stash missing. At this point, it doesn’t matter. We have so much to talk about, including what I found in here.

Before I leave the bedroom, I look at her bed with its down comforter and pile of pillows arranged by the wooden headboard, and my back practically begs me to move in here for the rest of the week. The past couple of nights, I’ve slept on the couch in the family room.

I’m not sure why I’ve been reluctant to sleep in my sister’s bed. Part of it may be because I wonder if Cole shared this bed with her, but that’s not the only source of my hesitation. Another part of it is self-preservation. I don’t want to immerse myself too deeply into Renee’s space because I’m afraid the darkness that surrounds her will find me too.

Langley pulls open the back door of the car and holds up her hand to stop me from getting out.

“I’ll buckle myself in, Aunt Nikki. We both know it takes you forever.”

I purse my lips, trying not to laugh, and watch as she adeptly secures the seat belt. I always knew I loved my niece, but over the past few days I’ve grown to like her too. She’s smart and funny, and I enjoy spending time with her.

“When are you old enough to ride without that thing?” I ask.

“I don’t know.”

I smile at her through the rearview mirror and pull out my phone to google the child seat restraint laws. According to the law, she could lose the booster seat now, but that’s not my decision to make. I don’t need Renee here to tell me that would be overstepping. I put away my phone and follow several school buses out of the parking lot.