The Ravencroft Women Pt. 03

"What were you expecting?! A fucking penthouse suite?! I work at a goddamn 7-Eleven. Did you forget that or something?! Seriously, why don't you just go back to your mansion if it's so-"

"Okay..." she said, her voice so small that I almost didn't hear it. "I'm sorry... I wasn't... I wasn't trying to make you angry... I was just... surprised... I... I just... I'm sorry... okay?... "

Jesus, what was I doing? I'd been so caught up in my own righteous anger that at some point I stopped paying attention to her. Now that I was really looking at her, all of that emotional build-up just fizzled into nothing. She was holding her hands in front of her as if she were afraid I was about to hit her. The timid look in her usually playful grey eyes made me feel like I'd just kicked a puppy. She even looked smaller than usual because of the way she was shrinking away from me. All of it combined was like getting hit with a bucket of ice water.

"Uh... no," I said as I looked away from her, suddenly ashamed of myself. "...I shouldn't have yelled at you like that...."

We stood there in a painfully awkward silence until Isabelle finally broke it by audibly clearing her throat.

"Um... I'm kinda thirsty," she said brightly, though it was clearly forced. "Do you have anything to drink?"

"Uh...Yeah, there should be some bottled water in the fridge," I said, having difficulty looking her in the eye as I pointed toward the mini-fridge next to the kitchen counter.

She nodded and started making her way over to the fridge while I stood there wishing I could just crawl into a hole and die. But, while I was silently cursing myself and my short temper, I noticed that the front door had been open the entire time. In a panic, I rushed over and stuck my head into the hall. Fortunately, it didn't appear that my shouting had drawn anyone's attention. As I closed the door behind me, I found myself wondering how I was going to dispel the tense atmosphere I'd created. I was about to suggest that we go somewhere else but, before I could...

"Big brother," Isabelle said suddenly, "why is everything expired?"

"Huh?" I said, turning to see what she was talking about. She was squatting down in front of the open fridge and holding a bag of cookies in her hand.

"All the food in your fridge is expired," she said as she frowned at it. "I mean, like, all of it. Shouldn't you go shopping?"

It was then that I realized what she was talking about. One of the things I'd started doing to help me save up to fix the hole was taking leftovers home from work. There was always plenty of shit that we had to take off the shelves because they had 'gone bad', and that meant plenty of free food. I'd have to be stupid to go hungry because of a few numbers on a label.

"Ohhhh. Nah, that's not expired yet," I said, glad to have something else to talk about. But then Isabelle's frown turned to me.

"No...," she said, speaking to me slowly. "This clearly says it went bad two days ago."

"Yeah...," I said, matching her tone. "But that's just an estimate, Isabelle. It's still good for a few more days. Besides, I can't just go shopping whenever I want. I don't have the money for that."

After I said that, Isabelle got very quiet. Mercifully, the awkwardness from a moment before seemed to have completely vanished, but something else had taken it's place. Her eyes shifted back to the contents of my fridge, looking at them like they were a puzzle she couldn't quite figure out. When she turned back to me, it wasn't confusion I saw in her eyes. It looked more like indignation.

"Nathan...," she began slowly, "are you telling me that you've been living on expired food?"

I heaved a sigh. This disagreement we were having was entirely a consequence of the difference in our upbringing. A girl who lived her life in a mansion with servants would never understand what the real world was like. I didn't want to make a big deal about it, though. Not after what just happened.

"No, Isabelle, I haven't been living on expired food," I said patiently, "because none of that food is expired yet. Just trust me, okay? It's still safe to eat."

It was my attempt at diffusing the situation. However, as I was about to find out, I'd only succeeded in making it much, much worse. For several seconds, Isabelle just stared at me with that frown on her face. As if my very existence didn't make sense to her. And then...she lost it.

Without saying a word to me, she began reaching into my fridge and pulling out one item after the other, cradling them in her arms.

"Hey..." I said. "Hey, what are you doing?"

She ignored me and continued single-mindedly snatching things out of my fridge. Then, when she couldn't hold any more, she stood up, walked over to the trash can, and unceremoniously dumped all my food inside.

"Hey! What the fuck?!" I yelled, but she paid me no mind. Instead she returned to the fridge and started taking even more food out. I hurried over to her side.

"Isabelle! Would you cut it out?!" I said as I reached for her hands. "This isn't funn-Ouch!!!"

A sudden sharp pain shot up my arm out of nowhere. I reflexively pulled my hand back and was shocked when I found teeth marks on the back of it.

"You bit me?!" I yelled, more out of shock than anger, but Isabelle was already on her way to the trash can again. I didn't get to her in time to save my food, but, when she spun around to make yet another trip to my fridge, I grabbed her by the arms and pinned her in place.

"Isabelle! Would you just stop and listen to..."

My voice trailed off into a stunned silence as I looked at her. The confused frown she'd had only a moment ago was gone now, and in it's place was a look of frustration that bordered on fury. But that uncharacteristic glare hadn't robbed me of my voice; the tears running down her face did that.

At some point, Isabelle had started crying so profusely that it was streaming down her cheeks and causing large droplets to fall from her chin. I was about to open my mouth to ask her what was wrong, but before I could get even a single word out...

"WHY!?" she screamed in between choked sobs. "WHY ARE YOU LIVING LIKE THIS?!... WHY?!"

This time, it was my turn to flinch away in surprise. I had no idea why the contents of my fridge had set her off like this, but it opened the way for all the other things she'd been keeping inside.

"WHY ARE YOU EATING ROTTEN FOOD?!...WHY ARE YOU LIVING IN THIS TINY ROOM?!...WHY IS THERE A HOLE IN THE WALL?!...WHERE IS YOUR BED?!...WHY IS YOUR TOILET JUST SITTING OUT IN THE OPEN LIKE THAT?!...WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS PLACE?!!"

"Isabelle...Just...Just calm do-"

"IT'S NOT FAIR!" she screamed. "IT'S NOT...WHY ARE YOU...WHY..."

Before she could finish, Isabelle began sobbing so hard that I couldn't make sense of anything she was saying any more. After a few more failed attempts at speech, she collapsed to her knees and began crying uncontrollably. Not knowing what else to do, I knelt down beside her and did my best to try and calm her down, but it was no use. I ended up just sitting on the floor next to her and rubbing her back for a few minutes as she let it all out.

When she finally stopped crying, I helped her to her feet and went to sit with her on the couch. However, once we sat down, she opted to lay down on her side and rest her head in my lap, preventing me from standing up again. I eyed the trash can in the corner of the room. My food would have to stay there for a little while longer.

After using the heel of her palm to push out the last of her tears, she pulled out her phone and started tapping away at it. She eventually brought up the webpage of some online store I didn't recognize, but I knew it was a grocery store from the items she was adding to her cart. Eggs, bacon, milk, different kinds of cereals, ham, cheese, bread. She was just scrolling and hitting 'add to basket' over and over, sometimes multiple times for one item. All with this strangely determined look on her face.

"Isabelle," I said, giving in to my curiosity, "what are you doing?"

"Buying you groceries," she said with a sniff.

"What?! Wait, no! You don't have to do that!" I said as I began reaching for the phone. However, just as I was about to grab it, she snatched it away and lunged forward with her teeth bared, clearly intent on biting me a second time. I barely managed to pull my hand away at the last second.

"Jesus, what is it with you and biting?!"

She glared up at me again before she returned to tapping on her phone.

"I'm buying you groceries," she said sullenly. "Deal with it."

Isabelle added several more things to her cart before placing her order. Then I watched her send a text to Bartholomew asking him to go pick it up before she finally put it down. Considering her current emotional state, I decided to let her have her way for the time being. However, I couldn't help but point something out to her.

"Isabelle," I said. "You know my fridge isn't big enough for all that shit you just bought, right?"

Isabelle raised her head and looked at my fridge thoughtfully for a few seconds. Then she picked up her phone again and went to the IKEA website. When I realised what she was about to do, I found an opening in her defences and quickly snatched the phone out of her hand.

"Are you crazy!?" I said.

"Give it back!" she demanded, rising from my lap as she tried to grab her phone.

"No!" I said as I fended her off, careful not to get too close to her mouth. "Listen, the groceries are one thing, but I'm not letting you buy me a fucking refrigerator! Just calm down, alright?!"

After a few more failed attempts to get her phone back, she finally gave up. She shot me a dirty look before resting her head on my lap again. We were silent for what felt like several minutes before Isabelle finally spoke.

"...Why would you eat expired food?" she said almost too quietly for me to hear. I rolled my eyes at the fact that she still thought the food was expired, but decided to drop it. Instead, I answered her question.

"You see that hole in the wall?" I said. "Well, I'm the one who put it there. I mounted that big screen incorrectly and this is the result. My landlord isn't the most understanding guy in the world, so I'm pretty sure if he sees it he'll evict me without a second thought. I gotta fix it myself before he finds out, but I don't have any of the things I need to do that. So, I'm saving up to buy them."

Isabelle suddenly sat upright again and frowned at me. Then, without a word, she got up and walked over to the fridge to retrieve her hand bag. When she came back, she pulled out a stack of crisp one hundred dollar bills and handed them to me.

"Here," she said. "Is this enough?"

I couldn't help but gape at her and the money in her hand. It had to be two grand at least. And here she was just casually giving it to me like it was nothing. Then again, it probably was nothing to her.

"Go on," she urged. "Take it."

There was definitely enough money there to cover the cost of repairs. Hell, there was probably enough there to cover my rent for the next two months. The solution to all my problems was suddenly just staring me right in the face. Still, despite all the good it would do me, I gently pushed her hand away.

"...Why?" she said with a mixture of frustration and confusion. "Why not?"

"I'm fine, Isabelle. I've almost saved up enough anyway." I said. But that was a lie. It would take at least another month or two before I could buy all the supplies I needed. In reality, I just didn't want any charity. If there were solutions to my problems, I wanted to find them on my own. Besides, I was already letting her buy groceries for me. That was more than enough.

"Anyway," I said, attempting to change the subject, "I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier."

She looked like she still wanted to press the issue, and for a moment I thought she would. However, after a few seconds, she tucked her money back into her handbag and sat on the couch in a huff.

"You should be," she said sourly. "I don't think I deserved that." She then pulled a compact out and began attending to her smeared mascara. "Do you have any tissues? I don't want Barty to know I was crying."

"Uh...yeah. Gimme a sec."

As I handed her a box I kept stashed behind the couch, she gave me a level look before she turned back to the mirror in her compact.

"So why did you bite my head off like that? Was it something I said?"

"No...No, not really," I said. "It was my landlord...He was giving me shit before you came over...I couldn't really say what I wanted to say to him, so I guess I ended up taking it out on you."

I winced internally. Saying it out loud like that really highlighted how stupid I'd been.

"What did he say to make you that angry?" she asked, fixing her make-up with remarkable speed.

"Nothing...Just...shit about my parents..." I said evasively, intending to leave it right there.

However, there was a noticeable pause in the movement of Isabelle's hand at the word 'parents' before it started moving again.

"Like what?" she said casually.

I heaved a sigh before getting up from the couch. "Sorry, but I really don't feel like talking about that right now. Anyway, let me get you that water you wanted."

I started walking over to my fridge as I heard the sound of Isabelle's compact snapping shut behind me. Somehow, that sound made it clear that she wasn't going to let this go.

"Don't you think you owe me an answer, big brother? I mean, you did yell at me for no good reason."

"I already apologized for that," I said tiredly as I opened my fridge and fished out a bottle of water.

"But...I bought you groceries," she said.

"Something I never asked you to do," I said coolly as I closed the fridge and began walking back to the couch. For some reason, Isabelle had become laser focused on the topic of my parents. The tense mood from a moment ago had all but vanished and she was practically bouncing up and down on the couch in a weirdly cute kind of frustration.

"Oh, come on!" she whined. "Just tell me already! What happened to treating me like your little sister?!"

"Listen, Isabelle-"

"Izzy!" she snapped, in a way that almost made me smile. I couldn't tell if she was acting like a brat to lighten the mood...or if she was just being a brat. Either way, she took a moment to calm herself before she spoke.

"Look, I've been thinking that we should get to know each other a little better anyway. And, after what just happened, that's probably a good idea. Don't want you losing your shit again because I stepped on a land mine."

'Why does a girl I'm just fucking need to get to know me better?' I thought. However, I didn't bother voicing it. After all, I knew what her answer would be...

'Because, you're my big brother. Duh.'

I rolled my eyes at the sound of her voice in my head as I sat back down on the couch and handed Isabelle her water. I wasn't in the mood to play her kinky little game, and I definitely wasn't in the mood to dredge up my past for her entertainment. I was prepared to stand my ground until she gave up and left, but then she surprised me.

"Come on, tell me," she said, returning to her whining. Then, all of the sudden, a look of inspiration appeared on her face before giving way to a dirty grin. "Hey. If you tell me about your parents, I'll tell you about mine."

That caught my attention. Ever since my talk with Mr. Faulkner, all thoughts relating to Noah had been forgotten. However, now that I was thinking about him again, I realized that I now had the perfect opportunity to find out if he was really Isabelle's father. All it would cost me was a slightly unpleasant trip down memory lane. But was it worth it just to keep my weird little fuck buddy happy?

After quickly letting my eyes drift over Isabelle's body, paying particular attention to her cleavage and the way she filled out her skin tight jeans, I decided that, yes, it definitely was worth it. Just as long as I was light on the details. But, as I prepared to give her what she wanted, there was one question hovering at the back of my mind...

'Why the fuck is she grinning like that?'

"Okay, fine," I said finally.

"Yes!" she said a she punched the air in victory.

"Just don't blame me if you regret it afterward. It's not a nice story."

That had a surprisingly sobering effect on her. Her face took on a neutral expression as she turned her full attention to me. I hadn't even begun, and yet she was already hanging on my every word.

'Just keep it light,' I silently reminded myself. I heaved another long sigh as I sat there trying to decide how best to start while Isabelle continued to watch me expectantly. In the end, I decided to just dive in and figure it out as I went.

"So...," I began slowly. "Okay. This is going to sound like something an overly dramatic teenager would say, but I really get the feeling that my parents never wanted me. Or maybe they just regretted having me at some point. I don't remember them ever celebrating my birthday, or doing anything with me as a family. I just remember them ignoring me for the most part and doing their own thing. Especially my dad. He always treated me like I was just in the way. The only time he paid attention to me was to swear at me and smack me in the head if I did something to annoy him."

That was a white lie. My father's abuse was much harsher than I was letting on. In fact, my most vivid memory of him was the time he hurled me across the room after I'd accidentally changed the channel while he was watching a baseball game. There were several other such memories. However, judging from the way Isabelle's blood had drained from her face, I was probably right for not being more specific.

"What about your mom," she asked. "Didn't she stop him? Try to protect you?"

"Nope," I said flatly. "She always looked the other way. She was probably just glad he wasn't hitting her."

At that moment, a flash of anger appeared on Isabelle's face. It was so intense that it made me flinch away from her a little bit. However, it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

"A-Anyway," I said, "my mom was a real piece of work, too. She pretended to be a good mother in public, but all she really cared about was using me to help her shoplift from stores to pay for her drug habit. The best way to steal things without getting caught was really the only thing she taught me."

I decided not to mention all the times she would shoot up right in front of me, or how scared I would get whenever she passed out.

"Bitch..." Isabelle muttered.

She was staring at the floor as she listened to me, and a little bit of that anger had crept back into her eyes. I thought it was weird for her to get so worked up, but, at the same time, it was oddly pleasant to hear someone other than me call my mom a bitch, so I kept going.

"Yeah, well, the neglect eventually got to the point where they didn't even bother to make sure that I'd had something to eat. That's when I started putting my mother's lesson's in shoplifting to use for myself. For several months, all the food I ate and all the clothes I wore were stolen. I also started going home less and less so I was effectively living on the streets. Those are actually the only happy memories I have from my childhood, but they didn't last long. It was only a matter of time before a homeless 10-year-old thief caught somebody's attention.

"Enough of the stores in the area had made complaints that the police came looking for me. When they found me, they made me take them home to my parents. When we got there, my dad was so drunk he could barely speak and my mom was passed out in the bathroom with a needle in her arm. That was the last time I ever saw either of them."