13. June #2
I have half a mind to tell him the wrong time, but I wouldn’t put it past him to tear the whole city apart looking for me if I don’t show up when I say I will.
This might be a battle I’m not capable of winning, given how deadly serious he is about my safety.
Perhaps if I humor him, give him what he wants for an evening or two, he’ll realize there is no threat, and he can return to his normally scheduled programming.
And I can go back to my own life and the issues that keep piling up.
With the Cora scare, I didn't exactly stop and look for help-wanted signs posted in the windows we passed. I was more focused on finding my friend in one piece, and still alive.
“June.” Magnus breaks my concentration.
“Yeah?” I blink over at him.
“That job earlier, the one pizza place.”
“What about it?”
“How much would you have made during your shift?”
“I don’t know? Why?”
Magnus reaches into his pocket, pulling out a wad of cash sufficient to solve quite a few of my problems. He flips through it and slides off some of the bills. “Will five cover it?”
“You’re going to give me five hundred dollars?” If I made that much at one place, let alone all three of them, I wouldn’t be struggling to pay my bills. And I sure as shit wouldn’t be living in that disgusting dump.
“Is that not enough?” He tries to get more but I stop him.
“No, that’s more than I would have made.” I push his hand away. “But I can’t accept that.”
“Why? It’s my fault you got fired.”
“How many times do I have to tell you? You had nothing to do with it.” But I’m beginning to realize there’s no convincing Magnus otherwise.
“What if it was—would you take it then?”
“I’m not looking for a handout.”
“I’m not giving one.”
I could easily settle the debt I have with Cora with that cash, and maybe even breathe easier at having lost that job earlier.
It would give me a tiny cushion of time to not rush into another gig, and perhaps find something I don’t hate.
It would provide a bit of freedom, relief, and offer me a chance I wouldn’t have had without it.
But then it would make me weak, dependent, and give Magnus the idea that I can be bought, or worse, that I expect that from him.
“No strings attached, I promise, princess.” He shoves the money into my hand, folding my fingers around it. “Pretend it never happened.”
How can I forget something so small to him but so big to me? It might not be much to him, but it's a life-changing amount of cash to me. With it, plus the fifty Coen managed to force on me earlier, a huge burden has been lifted from my shoulders. Temporary yet monumental.
They say money can't buy happiness, but when it's the main cause of most of your problems, I'd say it's a gigantic contributing factor to having a good or bad life.
I'm not after Ferrari's or gold-plated dinnerware, I'd just like a roof over my head that doesn't come with a potential drug-dealing sexist pig using up all the hot water and making passes at me every opportunity he gets.
The car slows to a stop at the intersection I had told them to take me to.
“Which one is yours?” Magnus peers out the window.
“I can walk from here.” I reach for the door handle and tug it, but it doesn’t budge. “Child-locks, seriously?”
Magnus opens his and steps out, holding his hand for me to take. “I’ll escort you the rest of the way.”
“No, it’s fine, it’s just right over there.” I vaguely point in that direction.
Magnus sighs. “Will you at least let me put my number in your phone in case you need me?”
I look at him through my lashes, wanting to tell him no. How do I deny such a beautiful man when he's got that puppy dog kind of vibe about him? Well, more like a guard dog.
“Fine.” I pull the thing from my pocket, unlock it and hand it to him.
He pushes a sequence of buttons, his own device ringing in response. “And just in case I need you.”
“What could you possibly need me for?”
Magnus raises his eyebrow and grins. “I could think of a thing or two.”
“I’m sure you could.”
He studies my face, the smile on his fading. Magnus leans down, gently pressing his lips to my cheek. “If you need anything, anything at all.”
My heart stutters at his softness. “Okay.” I meet his gaze one last time. “Thank you.”
“I’ll see you at…” Magnus turns his wrist over to check his watch. “Eight?”
I don’t have to be at work until nine, but I find myself agreeing anyway. “Yeah.”
Magnus climbs into the back of the car, hesitating before closing the door.
I wave at him and use the opportunity of space between us to get moving. The direction they’re parked means they can’t turn down my street, given it’s a one-way and that would be illegal. They’d have to circle the block and come down the other end. I’ll be long gone by then.
The rustling of pavement lets me know they’re driving away, but I don’t look back. I keep going, inching closer to this hell hole I call home. It’s not far, just a few buildings down from where they dropped me off.
Opening the front gate, I steady my breathing to prepare myself for whatever bullshit Carter is about to lay on me.
With his less than legit job, his hours fluctuate.
Meaning he’s more than likely inside, sprawled out on the couch with a bag of chips next to him and a remote control in his hand.
No doubt getting crumbs everywhere like the little leech he is.
I step through the entry of our building.
There are four units, two on the left, two on the right.
One upstairs on each side, one on the ground level.
We live on the top floor of the right in a three-bedroom unit.
Immediately, I notice the commotion up the steps at our door.
I rush up to them and spot my shit being shoved into a tote.
“What the fuck is going on?” I grab the clothes out of Carter’s grasp. “Get off my stuff.”
“You’ve got to go, J.” Carter shoves his hand across the threshold so I can’t get inside.
“Don’t fucking call me J like we’re friends you fucking low-life.”
Heather stands behind him, her arms crossed over her chest. “He’s right, June.”
“Someone care to explain why I’m being kicked out?”
“What happened to your face?” Heather asks me, but not out of concern, more like she’s trying to prove a point.
“I got mugged, Christ. You’re booting me out because of that? How the fuck does that make any sense?” I thought these two couldn’t get any worse, and somehow they continue to prove me wrong.