Chapter 2
JACE
The TV continues to drone on in the background as I read through the email the real estate just sent, notifying me that my rent will be increasing in sixty days.
I curse under my breath when I realise the time. Of course, they sent it right as their office was closing so I can’t even ring the bastards, because why not?
Fucking hell. My rent just went up and they’re increasing it again? It’s not even a small increase this time, it’s going up by nearly a hundred bucks a week.
What the hell am I going to do? I can’t afford that.
Minimising my emails, I quickly look up other properties nearby only to find them all in the same price range, if not more.
Opening up my savings account, I look at the meagre twenty dollars sitting in there. Even if I could afford them though, I don’t have the money to front a bond.
Fuck.
Turning the TV off to save my electricity bill, I start scouring all of the job seeking websites.
Fifteen minutes later and I’m no closer to finding a solution on what to do so I throw my phone down on the couch and make my way into the kitchen to grab a beer.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I think as I look around the now dark house and take a swig from my beer. This was supposed to be temporary.
When I ran out of petrol and money three years ago, I’d gotten a job at one of the small local construction companies with the intention to save up for a couple of months then keep driving.
I had such high hopes back then. I’d managed to get a job after school packing shelves at the local corner shop and when I graduated I was able to afford a cheap second-hand car.
My first stop had been to the foster family Bonnie and I were placed with before they separated us, but when I arrived they told me she wasn’t there.
We were both placed in new homes and either they didn’t know where she ended up, or they were keeping that information to themselves, no doubt still judging us for our relationship.
I tried to find her; I really did, but I was an eighteen-year-old kid with next to no money and even less skills. I struggled a lot with my mental health after they took me away from Bonnie. They didn't even allow us to stay in touch. I’m lucky I even managed to graduate.
How the hell was I supposed to find someone who didn’t have a phone, social media or a forwarding address? It also didn’t help that I was a year older than her and Charlie so even our old social worker wouldn’t fess up any information about where she was.
The only thing I had was Google, and that wasn’t any help.
Grant had taken away our phones the night he dragged us out of that house all those years ago.
He forced us to move away in the middle of the night, deactivated our social media accounts and cancelled our plans.
We had no access to the internet so there’s nothing online about either of us after that night.
The worst part was we didn’t get to say goodbye to Charlie, or anyone for that matter. Grant sold all of our phones but his so we he couldn’t even call us. We had no way of getting in touch with him to let him know we weren’t ignoring him.
Fuck, I can only imagine what it must have felt like to wake up that morning and find us gone.
I don’t think I would have coped if it had been me…but at least he has amazing parents to help him through it.
Up until that night, I thought we did too, but Grant became so controlling. He counted every single dollar in the house, quickly burning through the money he made from selling all of our shit and the house, blaming us when there was none left.
He wouldn’t even give us the money for a postage stamp so we could send Charlie a letter.
One day, we’d gotten lucky and found a couple of dollars on the road. We got so excited over three fucking dollars. But it was enough to buy a stamp and envelope, so we ran straight to the post office.
The second we got home; we spent the afternoon locked up in Bonnie’s room writing drafts in an old notebook trying to explain how sorry we were that we left. That we weren’t given a choice.
It took us six goes but we finally had it all down, explaining everything that had happened and why we weren’t able to contact him.
But we never got to post it. Grant walked in and saw what we were doing. He was pissed, started screaming at us for wasting his money despite the fact we found the coins and he ripped the letter and stamp to shreds.
That was the first time we truly accepted that the person we knew was gone. That night Bonnie snuck into my room after our parents were asleep and cried in my arms. We stayed up all night trying to comfort and reassure each other that no matter what, we would find our way back to each other.
We knew Charlie would follow through on our plans even if he couldn’t get in contact with us so we made a pact to keep our heads down and study hard so that when we graduated, we’d qualify for scholarships and could meet him there.
With that in mind I knew Bonnie would stick to our pact. She would make her way back to our hometown and Charlie the moment she turned eighteen the following year. So, as hard as it was, I climbed back into my shitty car and drove away.
With every passing hour, I adjusted my plans in my mind. I knew there was no way I’d be able to attend university myself, but I could find a job and a cheap place to rent nearby so we had somewhere to live when they both started uni next year.
Things were looking up.
Then I ran out of petrol and money. Still, I didn’t run out of hope. I got myself a job and lived out of my car for three months saving every dollar until the gearbox blew and with winter rolling in, sleeping in my car was no longer an option.
Despite that, I told myself it was okay. I could adjust. I had time. I’d find a cheap place to rent and save up enough to fix my car and make it the rest of the way to Charlie and hopefully Bonnie too.
Three years later and I’m still here. Still working the same job, in the same town, no closer to being able to even afford the trip via public transport.
The car was long gone. The upkeep, petrol and registration were too much of a drain on my money and when the timing belt snapped, it was scrapped.
I huff out a breath, opening the fridge again to find something to eat but the only two things inside were a bottle of expired milk and the case of beer one of the guys from work shouted me when I helped him move houses last week.
Even if I managed to scramble up enough to get here, what did I have to offer?
I have no money; next to no job experience. I can’t afford any houses in this long forgotten small town, much less one with a university.
They were better off without me.
Closing the fridge, I make my way back to the couch to resume my pointless search of either a better paying job, a second job, or a house I can afford to rent.
Two beers later and I’m no closer to finding a solution. There’s no jobs online and no houses in my budget range up for rent. I didn’t even have a car I could live out of.
There was always the petrol station a block over from my house.
They were always hiring, which probably had something to do with the fact that in the last six months, they’d been robbed three times, and they’d had a fire which caused a petrol truck to explode.
It wasn’t exactly the safest place to work but I was desperate.
Resolving myself to walk there after work tomorrow, I close out of all my apps and send a message to Jake to see if he’s down for a quick fuck tonight.
He responds straight away that he’ll be over soon, and I turn my screen off, sitting in the dark as I wait.
We weren’t dating and I didn’t message him often, only when my mind gets too dismal and I need something to stop my thoughts from spiralling as my mind turns on me.
He’s usually down for a quicky but I know he isn’t too keen on my…tastes. The first time we had sex; he was pretty hesitant when I told him I didn’t want him to use lube.
It took a lot of convincing that I liked pain with my pleasure but when he finished and realised there was blood on his dick, he freaked out.
I had to lie and convince him that it was something I enjoyed and need to get off, but the truth is I haven’t come in three years. Not since Bonnie.
It’s my fault I’m in this position though. If I had been more careful, they never would have separated us. But no, I just had to think with my dick, and we’d gotten caught.
A knock at the door echoes through the silent house, signalling Jake’s arrival and pulling me out of my head. Standing from the lounge, everything tilts for a moment, and I have to catch myself on the armrest.
When my head clears enough for me to walk, I make my way through the house in the dark, cursing as I trip and stub my toe.
Not having the mental capacity to figure out what I tripped over, I down the last of my beer and turn the porch light on.
Unlocking the front door, I open it to greet Jake but freeze when I see a ghost from my past.