Chapter 10
CHAPTER
TEN
ELODIE
Alex and I don’t speak as I drive down the dark dirt road. I stop at the gate and lift my hand in a wave to the man at the little guard shack. He opens the gate without coming over to talk to me.
Apparently, leaving is much easier than entering, so I guess that’s good. I don’t think they’ll be keeping us hostage anytime soon. For that, I’m grateful. Not that they need me for anything; I saw plenty of women walking around practically naked.
“Okay, that wasn’t as scary as I thought it was going to be,” Alex states as I pull my car onto the main road.
I haven’t told him that we were paid, and not just paid… but paid. I shoved the money in my cupholder and got the hell down the road. I don’t even know how much Wrath gave me, but it was more than I was anticipating because he wasn’t supposed to pay me at all until next week.
“He gave us some money,” I say as I reach down into the cupholder and pull out the wad of cash before shoving it against Alex’s chest.
“He said he was going to pay us more, that you didn’t charge enough. I didn’t think he meant today,” Alex murmurs. “But he said he’d take care of us.”
I can’t help but wonder what taking care of us entails, but I can’t wait to find out, because it felt like a lot of money. I didn’t even look at it. Though it could have been all five-dollar bills for all I know.
Alex begins to examine the money, then he tells me to pull over. “Why?” I ask.
He doesn’t tell me why; he just repeats himself. I pull over onto the side of the deserted highway, usually not somewhere I would ever stop. You can’t tell me some freaky-ass shit doesn’t happen out here in the miles and miles of desert. I’m no fool. But for Alex, I pull over.
As soon as the car stops and I shift it into Park, Alex reaches up and turns on the dome light, illuminating the whole inside of the car. His attention shifts to the money and he hisses.
“I thought that’s what I saw. I didn’t know for sure. I had to see it in the light.”
I start to ask him what he thought he saw, but then my gaze follows his and I look down at the money in his hand, which is what he’s staring at. And when I see that money sitting in his hand, the denomination, my breath hitches.
“Wow,” I whisper.
“They’re all hundreds.”
And then Alex begins to count. One hundred, two, three, four, and then he gets to a thousand. And another thousand. And then a third. I gasp, staring at the money in Alex’s hand.
Holy. Shit.
“I guess he’s not a liar,” Alex announces. “Even if he is kind of scary and his club is definitely scary as shit.”
“They are,” I whisper, still not able to look away from the money. Hundreds of dollars… no thousands. My god. The bills we can pay with these. “Does this feel like dirty money?” I ask. “Are we going to hell or compromising our morals because of this?”
“Absolutely fucking not,” Alex snaps instantly, and his words come out so forcefully that my eyes flick up to meet his instantly.
I seriously cannot believe that this is real. I feel like maybe it might get ripped away from me. And it still might, but I’m going to be enjoying being able to pay my bills without stressing out, at least for a little while.
“I’m gross, tired, and hungry, but damn if I don’t want to celebrate,” Alex mutters.
“I do, too,” I agree with a laugh.
Because this money will not only pay for both of our rents, it’ll pretty much cover all our living expenses for the whole month—rent, utilities, food, credit card bills, everything. Meaning the money from the rest of our jobs, and whatever else we get from this one, will be free and clear.
I could cry right now.
Seriously burst out into tears and cry. “Let’s go home, wash this… whatever the fuck we cleaned today off of us, and then go to Fat Boys for a couple of drinks.”
It’s a rough bar, one that we don’t go to all the time, but it’s also within walking distance to our apartment complex since we’ve got the cheapest places in town, and it’s in the hood.
Moving out on my own at eighteen was imperative but also expensive, so when Alex and I first moved out on our own, we lived in my studio together.
When we were building up the cleaning company and had enough clients that we could afford two rents, and it wasn’t going to bankrupt either of us, he was able to get his own studio, and he grabbed the one across the hall when it went up for rent.
“Yeah, let’s go to Fat Boys. I could use some greasy apps and a cold drink.”
And by cold drink, I mean beer, because that bar only serves beer and shots of hard liquor. There aren’t any mixed drinks, and I don’t even think they have water.
Alex turns the dome light off, and I shift the car into Drive, pulling out onto the still very much deserted highway as we head toward home… three thousand dollars richer.