Secrets and Sins: Malachim (A Secrets and Sins Novel) (Entangled Ignite) Read Online Free PDF Page A

lately, meth. Her older sister had been a gorgeous aspiring model before the drugs snared her in their vicious grip and refused to let go. Addiction had chipped away at her beauty, leaving a pockmarked, painfully skinny, hollow-eyed shell in the place of her vivacious sister.
    A year ago, she had harbored hope when Carmen had entered a rehab program. She’d allowed her optimism to grow when Carmen had started working the first full-time job she’d had in a decade. But now, the irritation, the fatigue, the evasiveness… Dread curdled in her stomach like milk left out on the counter too long. Jesus . Not again . And she wasn’t there to help, to prevent Carmen from self-destructing.
    “Are you okay?” Danielle whispered. Are you using again?
    “Yes.” Carmen huffed out a breath that ended on a tired sigh. “Yes,” she repeated. “I’m fine. But…”
    “But?” Danielle prompted, even though the nagging, I-told-you-so voice of experience taunted her. You know what she’s going to say next. No need to play stupid.
    “I need some money.”
    Told you so. Experience cackled in the back of her mind.
    “Carmen.” Danielle ground her thumb and forefinger against her eyes, rubbing mercilessly. “Last month, you said you were short.”
    “I was. I am.” Rustling sounds reached Danielle’s ear. Damn. Was Carmen just getting out of bed? “Listen, I need some to tide me over until I find a new job. Can you lend me fifty? One hundred?”
    Danielle stared out the windshield, but instead of the Mercedes parked in front of her, she saw her sister, sitting on a filthy mattress on the floor of a dilapidated house. Through her dark, limp, tangled hair, dark red sores would dot her cheeks and chin. Bruises on her feet and pocked arms would advertise blown veins and recent ports for needles filled with liquid death.
    “Elena?”
    “I just paid rent,” she mumbled through numb lips. “All I have is fifty.” Her last few dollars until Pat issued her weekly check on Friday. Well, not counting the nest-egg money she religiously squirreled away from every check. Just in case she had to move fast. At the moment, she had three thousand dollars saved—enough for first and last month’s rent as well as well as a small cushion to tide her over for a few weeks. That money was survival…life or death. And she couldn’t—wouldn’t—dip into it.
    “Can I have the fifty?” Carmen demanded.
    Danielle should’ve said no. She should’ve told Carmen she was on her own, that she refused to support her drug habit. But the rebuke snagged in her throat. Trapped by guilt and responsibility. Her sister might be an addict, erratic, and unreliable, but when Danielle had needed her most, Carmen had been there. In the terror-filled time after she’d reported her husband to the police, her sister had stood by her, silently lending her support and love.
    And then…then she and Carmen had never known their father, had lost their mother, and years later, their aunt. Yes, their relationship was often strained and more like that of a parent/child rather than older sister/younger sister. And yes, their phone calls were usually brusque rather than affectionate. But each was the only family the other had left. Though logic argued zero contact was probably the best safety option for both of them, part of Danielle believed the short weekly call let Carmen know she was loved, that someone cared whether she stayed off the drugs and lived. Just because Danielle had abandoned her old life didn’t mean she would throw her sister away, as well.
    “Yes. I’ll send it out tomorrow morning. Give me your P.O. Box address,” she said, opening her bag and pulling out a pen and scrap of paper.
    “Thanks, El. I really appreciate it.” A door squeaked as she recited the information. Seconds later, water gushed to life. “Listen, I gotta go. Talk to you same time next week.”
    She wanted to ask why Carmen was just showering at almost ten o’clock at night