Page 13 of Abyss

But instead, I find my feet moving me toward the exit before I’m settling into my truck inside our parking garage. I toss my laptop bag onto the passenger seat before slamming the bottom of my palm against my steering wheel. “Goddammit!”

I throw my head back against my headrest as the sound of her sniffle echoes inside my ears. I’m a fucking asshole, venomous and cold.

When did I become this way?

Glancing at the seat next to me, I pull out the stupid slice of cake she made, which is only slightly flattened inside my bag.

Peeling back the plastic, I dig in with the fork she’d tucked inside as well. It’s spongy and sweet, with just the right amount of chocolate. In a few bites, I’ve eaten the entire thing.

But it does nothing to sweeten the bitterness inside my conscience.

Chapter Five

KAVI

“What do you mean, it’s dead?” I ask my mom, turning the knob on our laundry machine as if she hadn’t tried that herself. I open and close the lid and push the Start button, hoping for a miracle. “It was working fine a couple of days ago.”

I don’t mean for my tone to sound accusatory, but it comes out that way, anyway. It’s just that my mother—God love her—can be a bit of a klutz when it comes to household appliances. It’s not intentional, and she’s so remorseful afterward, but the woman was born cursed with the worst of Murphy’s Law when it comes to electronics.

Last month it was our blender—“I don’t know why, it just blew up!”—and a few weeks before that, it was the vacuum. “It just started smoking. This is the problem with second-hand stuff.”

And now this.

“I know it was working a couple of days ago, Kavi,” she soothes in her thick Indian accent. “But I used it the same way I have all these years, and boom! Dead!”

I’d laugh at her animated explanation if this wasn’t the last thing Ineeded.

I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose, my mind zipping a mile a minute as I add a new laundry machine to the list of things I need to pay for.

It’s been a horrendous day, starting from the moment I discovered my boss, the man who fired me at the restaurant, was also Madison’s dad. Not only that, but if I thought he couldn’t dislike me more, I was gravely mistaken. If it was possible, his hatred for me might be even stronger now.

Seriously, what are the freaking chances?

I won’t deny I’d thought of him often since our first disastrous meeting, but I’d never in a million years expected him to be the head of Case Geo.

Clearly, he was just as surprised to see me. Though, ‘surprised’ might be putting it mildly.Shockedandiratemight be more in the ballpark of how he looked. His cruel words, telling me he expected nothing from me, still ring in my ears even now, over two hours later.

And if that wasn’t enough, I’m now stuck dealing with yet another reason I desperately need this job.

It’s like the list of issues keeps growing—there’s still that overdue rent notice, a vacuum that needs to be replaced, an upcoming electricity bill, and now a broken laundry machine.

I’m not even going to acknowledge the screeching noise my car has been making every time I turn.

“Come on.” My mom grasps my shoulders, turning me toward our small dining room and away from the new reason for my headache. “Let me grab you a plate of dinner. I made your favorite—purisandchole. I can’t believe you had to stay so late on your first day. What kind of heartless boss makes you do that?”

I groan, thinking of said heartless boss, as I allow my mother to steer me into a seat next to my brother. She bustles into the kitchen, the clattering of dishes providing a momentary distraction in my thoughts.

I rest my eyes on my brother, hovering over what appears to be an SAT prep book, studying for the standardized tests at the end of summer.

Neil wordlessly slides a bowl of strawberries in my direction, and I note the smudge of dirt on the side of his face. Lifting my hand instinctively, I wipe it off with my thumb before he grunts, waving it away and going back to his work.

I chuckle at his gruff demeanor but can’t help feel the warmth of his simple gesture.

Like Mom, he’s been working two jobs this summer—one at the car wash and the other mowing lawns around the neighborhood—hoping to make enough to help out around the house.

And that thought leaves a heaviness in my chest, just like it always does.

He shouldn’t have to carry our family burdens just yet. He should be out enjoying his summer with friends, playing video games and watching movies. Instead, he’s home every night after an exhausting day of work, studying in hopes of getting a scholarship like I did.

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