Page 70 of Dark Endures

People pitying me feels worse than any pain I’ve ever experienced.

One day, if I work hard enough and Waylon gets his act together, I’ll have enough money for a cute little apartment in a nice part of town. Maybe one with some historical elements like a wood-burning fireplace, french doors, and hardwood floors.

But right now, surrounded by cigarette butts and empty bottles, thinking about that hurts more than my arms do.

This move gives me more time in my day since more than three-quarters of my dog-walking clients are moving as well or can’t afford me. A clean break just made sense.

The hours would be nice, but the loss of money…Maybe I can pick up some clients around Adonis’ place.

But you’re only there temporarily. It makes sense to just focus on the job with Maddox.

My stomach twists.

Whatever I do feels wrong.

A massive moving truck pulls up in front of the apartment building.

That can’t be them.

But they’re supposed to arrive now.

Why would they bring such a large truck?

Because they thought you owned stuff like a normal person. A woman your age should have way more stuff. She should be settled in a good job, working her way up to a better job, and a nice future. Instead, you have two dead-end jobs, that you actually enjoy, but have zero prospects for the future.

Canyon hops out of the driver’s side door with a massive smile on his face.

Why’s he so happy to do physical labor?

Canyon has a screw loose in that brain of his.

“We could have come up. You didn’t have to meet us out here,” Maddox growls at me.

Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. I knew I should have done this on my own. So what if it would have taken several cab rides.

“Hey, Mindy.” Maddox’s tone softens like he remembered what manners are.

Canyon steps forward. “We should get going. Lead the way to your apartment.”

At least one of them doesn’t seem put out. “No need.” I hold the door open. “My boxes are right here.”

“It’s easier to load the furniture first.”

Maddox stares at the neat stacks with such a haughty air I want to curl up and die. Why did I do this to myself? Don’t cry! Your tears aren’t wanted by anyone. I barely hold the smile in place. “No furniture. This is it.”

Canyon grabs a box. “This should take no time at all. Thanks for having it organized and ready. You should see some of the places. Half the time we’re packing boxes as we move the stuff.”

Thankful for the distraction, I answer, “Oh, I’d never do that.”

The thunderous look on Maddox’s face, as he reaches for a box, is disheartening enough, but the way he pushes me aside like I’m moving too slow and wasting his time reminds me of my mom’s first boyfriend. Every day, he’d ask Mom why I was so slow and lazy.

I scramble to grab a box and push myself to keep up with the men as we load the truck.

My things create an insignificant stack in the vast space.

Just like my life. If it wasn’t for my friends…

The glare on Maddox’s face hasn’t relaxed one little bit as he stands holding the truck door open, waiting for me to hop in.

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