Chapter Thirty-Four. Holden
THIRTY-FOUR
Holden
FIFTEEN YEARS AGO
“You dumb fucker. You’re going to get us in trouble,” a hushed voice says from a row of lockers somewhere down the room.
I freeze. The locker room has been closed for some time.
“Dude. Relax. I do this all the time,” another voice I know but can’t place says.
“Seriously?” a third voice asks.
Clank. Click. Clank.
The visceral reaction I have to that sound should be illegal. My teeth grit and my hands fist while my mouth waters like I’m going to get sick.
The fucking Trouble Trio. I should’ve known.
“It’s like taking candy from a baby. They keep all the cash tips here for the caddies. If there’s no money here when they open it, they just assume us rich fuckers stiffed them all.”
“Besides, we do it often enough that it’s not surprising for them to find this empty.”
“They’re going to use it for drugs anyway.”
“Crack-whore babies.” There is a chuckle and then a bunch of shh-shhs as they fall silent.
“Is someone in here?”
“Nah. That’s the kitchen. You can hear them talking through the walls.”
“So you just take it?” Porter. That one’s Porter.
“Yep.” And that’s Rothschild.
“What if we get caught?” Porter again.
More laughter. Another clank, click, clank.
“One. We won’t,” says Rothschild.
“Two, you know who my dad is.” That’s Williams.
“And three, who fucking cares? No one is going to think we did shit; even if they realize the money is missing, no one in this place would ever dare point the finger at us. We’re fucking royalty in this town.”
“Pretty much.” Williams chuckles. “Pretty fucking much.”
“C’mon. Let’s get out of here before we test those theories.”
They laugh and then fall quiet before they move toward the door. I make sure to shadow them so that I’m hidden by the locker endcaps.
It’s only once the doors shut that I feel like I can finally breathe.
Then I sit down on the bench and try to process what I just heard. What just happened.
They stole all that money.
Money intended for my cohorts who need it way fucking more.
All that money sits there, day in and day out, ripe for the taking.
We need it way more than those fuckers do. They have more money than God; why are they taking it from those of us who need it the most? The ones who have to decide between paying the power bill or going grocery shopping?
Anger courses through me as I shake my head and push up off the bench.
But it’s nothing new. Anger is all I feel anymore.
I’ll never be like them.
Never.