"What happened?" She came out into full view, standing at the doorless doorway at the hall, the living room behind her on the opposite side.
"Well, like your mom said. 'Stay out of trouble.' I used to ride with a group of... 'troublemakers.'" Better term than 'gang members.' "Now, I'm out. Some of 'em didn't much like that. Thus..." He held up his marked right hand.
"Did you... take their... money?"
Christopher stopped, a thumb pressing down on another counted bill, and pointedly stared at her. She bit her lips together, took a step back, and her head lowered as she looked to the side. Silence lingered a moment...
"I didn'tstealit... ifthat'swhat you mean..." Still his icy gaze remained on her. She looked like a nervous deer ready to scarper. "Alright, look, I was hoping to keep this to myself, but well, here you are." He put down the uncounted money and brought his hands together. "When all that... shit went down..." He shook his head, and imagined that before nightfall his step-sister and maybe also her mother would be at his father's ear to have him removed from the house. May as well be honest.
"Most of the guys managed to get away... I didn't. They wanted me to finger the guys who got away, to rat them out... I didn't. When things came to court," he shrugged, "They managed to send a pretty clear message to me. Take the fall. Bite the bullet. Take one for the 'team' and I'll be 'compensated'... or else if I dodge the charges, I'll be 'dealt with.' What exactly that means, well... use your imagination." He gestured to her. "So... 'compensation.'" He lifted the two stacks in his hands and put them back down again.
She listened, only glancing to him from time to time, and every time she did she saw that he was looking directly at her. His hands bloodied, two stacks of money on the table, redness at the corner of his mouth and on his lip.
"I'd appreciate if you kept this stuff to yourself, but well, I have no control over what you do and do not say. What Icantell you is this... I haven't had a proper meal in years." He left the money on the table, having forgotten his count, and after lumbering over to the sink he began to run water over his hands to wash them. "I have no doubt that your mother's lasagna is delicious, and I look forward to trying it. But..." He shook the excess water off his hands, his wounds sufficiently cleaned, "... I miss restaurants like you wouldn't believe." He turned to her, his hands out to either side of him with a brief shrug. "So I'm gonna call a cab, take my ass to the best steakhouse that the driver knows about, and have a steak that's as round as my thigh. I wouldn't mind the company if you want to tag along, my treat. 'Sis,' heh." He let loose a singular chuckle as he tried the rather foreign nickname on for size, his lips scarcely made any inflection of a grin as he gave the small chuckle.
"H-heh..." She let out a nervous one as well, the corner of her mouth twitching up in a brief half-grin.
So, her step-brother, fresh out of prison, says 'he's out' from the people he got in trouble with, or the people who gothiminto trouble. He has hush money on the table, blood on his knuckles from a recent fight... and he's offering her a meal at a nice restaurant.
She felt that, like she had done with her mother's offer to go to the grocery store with her, she should politely decline and return to her show in her room.
Yet there were two things that conflicted with her inclination as he picked up the wireless house phone on the wall. Her mother said that she should be nice to him and to try talking to him. After that first impression with Rick and her mom, he was actually talking, even smiled a little bit and laughed. If she's to try actually being his sister, well... she should go. The other thing though... she's never met someone like him in herlife.Well, one guy she went to school with, he got in trouble and spent time in juvie, but... nothing like actualprison.She was curious. Interested. And well he was offering her a good meal at a nice place... it'd be rude to turn him down.
"Damn it... where's the phone book? Used to always be on the fridge..." He muttered as he realized he couldn't remember the number for a cab.
Or any number for that matter... and the old 'phone bible' was no longer on top of the refrigerator.
"Uh, I-I can..." She pulled her smartphone from her pocket, safely tucked away inside of its glittery pink phone case.
"Oh, you'll call 'em?" he asked, heading to the table as he took his old yet unfamiliar wallet out of his pocket.
"Sure." She watched him slip several bills inside of the folded leather, and then stuffed the rest of the cash in his other pocket.
"Cool, go for it. Uh, thanks," he added. "If you know any good spots that serve steak, you can choose the restaurant."
"Yeah, I know some good places."
"Golden." He sat down and swung his shin up, resting it halfway on his knee, a hand on his ankle as he leaned back. "Similar taste, huh?" He gestured to her overalls. Both of them were primarily clad in denim.
"Uh... heh." She smiled and gave a small laugh as she noticed it as well, their slightly similar attire. The phone rang in her ear as she waited for an operator to pick up.
"Great minds think alike." He gave a thumbs-up as he looked off to the side, through the window. Nice weather... yeah, a fat and juicy steak. Just what the doctor ordered. He was having trouble deciding whether to go with steak or just a simple burger. Once he had that hush-money in his fist, though... steak all the way. He licked his lips as he peered outside, Julie listing off their home address to have a cab sent.
3
Well, his 'sister' Julie hadn't said much on the way besides mentioning her suggested restaurant along with a 'please' to the cab driver and a 'if that's alright' to Chris.
He was down. As long as there was a steak at the end of the road, he'd practically crawl through glass to get there. All the same, a pleasant conversation was had with the cabbie as she sat quietly on the other end of the back seat.
She noticed how, with their parents, he seemed a bit... stilted. Though, well, if he indeed went and talked to some sort of... 'troublemaker boss' and some possible gang members it changed his demeanor. That may have been weighing on him. He seemed a bit more lighthearted, easy-going. Opening up more. Seeing him interact so casually with the cab driver, chatting him up... it was a stark contrast to when he had been chatting with her mom.
Perhaps, just as she and her mom were getting used to him, he had to get used to them too.
Julie even giggled a couple times as he told a few jokes, and a funny story about winning a poker game though no mention of how much money was won. Could it have been while he was locked up? Could cigarettes have been the currency or something? Or was it before he was locked up?
"So, to start, can I get you something to drink-?"
"Beer." Chris replied quickly. "Guinness if you got it, if not then I don't want anything under 5%. And a shot, please," he added.