Read Online Lock and Key by Cat Porter - Free Book Online

twisted on my back and listened to the sudden silence in the house. Silence all through my room, Ruby’s bedroom, the bathroom with dated fixtures and dull tile, the narrow hallway treaded with worn green carpeting and decorated with small framed squares of Grandma’s embroidery of strawberries and daisies, the small living room with its bulky couches in that tired blue and green striped pattern. Our parents’ bedroom had been empty for years, because on a jag Ruby had sold the furniture and donated their clothes just as she had emptied the basement of years of clutter except for the washer and dryer. There was sheer silence for once in the house, save for the ticking of that ugly oversized clock in the shape of a daisy with huge petals that had hung in the kitchen since day one.
    My grandparents had first nailed that cheesy clock on the kitchen wall over the small wooden table. Yellowed with age, that clock had ticked away the years of spotty contentment and shrouded unhappiness in this house all through my childhood. Now that ticking seemed to presage all the emptiness that lay ahead for me and the horrid misery in store for Ruby.
    Screw that.
    I got up from my bed, wiped my wet face on my forearm, marched to the kitchen, flung upon a cupboard, and snatched one of Dad’s favorite beer glasses. Why the hell had my mother kept them anyway? Laughter stung in my throat.
    What the hell kind of crazy ass house was this?
    I hurled the glass at the clock.
    The clock face smashed into a shower of bits and pieces that flew all over the kitchen. I shook myself, and pieces of glass fell like otherworldly snowflakes from my hair and clothes. I grabbed more of those beer glasses and threw them at each and every petal of the now ruined sunflower clock. Glass showered through the room.
    I grabbed the last two and pitched them. Then I started on my mother’s wine glasses that came from a gas station on a special offer. She had been so proud of them. “They’re nice aren’t they?” she had mused aloud to herself over and over when she had first arranged them in the cabinet.
    Everything was “nice” in here wasn’t it? “Nice,” if you didn’t ask too many questions. “Nice,” if you didn’t look too hard. “Nice,” if you didn’t expect anything much.
    I hated anything “nice.”
    I aimed each glass at a different deer on the faded brown hunting-themed wallpaper in the kitchen. My aim improved with each throw.
    A half empty bottle of tequila flirted with me from the top of the fridge. I jumped over the sea of sharp remnants on the kitchen floor and sniggered at the harsh chomping noises my boots made. I reached up, grabbed the bottle, and took a long swig. The liquor burned down my throat, and I coughed. I wiped the side of my mouth with the back of my hand, nabbed the keys to the Jimmy, and left the house.
    Who the hell did Jump and Dig think they were anyhow? Kings of the freaking county, no doubt. Where were they when the judge passed down her sentence on Ruby? Having a beer and getting their dicks sucked at their precious clubhouse most likely.
    Hell no.
    I jostled my way through the throng of people in the courtyard of the Clubhouse. A raucous party was in full swing. What a surprise. Members of the Demon Seeds, the rival club involved in Ruby and Jump’s drug deal gone south, were here partying with the One-Eyed Jacks. Of course, this must be a celebration-at-Ruby’s-expense party. Did my invitation get lost in the mail?
    A fire blazed in the center of the yard, the enticing aroma of grilled meat filled the air in a haze of smoke. I tromped through the yard, the bottle of tequila still in my hand. I had a good buzz on. Enough to let go of any inhibitions, but enough to still retain my self-respect.
    Boner bounded in front of me, his green eyes glassy. “Little Sister, whazzup?” A cigarette hung from his fingers, and his one arm hung around an overly made-up and very drunk blonde with an unsettling amount of