Page 19 of Spin The Bottle
God fucking damn it. “What happened?”
“Nothing that concerns you, little bro.” His laughter makes my stomach churn. “Just do your job and get us our money before Mom dies.”
“She’s not sick, Brandon, don’t feed me that shit.” I stop speaking when I hear some of the guys leaving the gym, their voices getting closer until I hear their footsteps trail off as they walk away. “She’s high,” I tell him when I’m sure no one’s around. “She’s killing herself, and you’re helping her.”
“I don’t know why you care so much.” He sniffs. “You’re the one that left.” His demeanor changes, his voice growing bitter and heavy. “You left us in this hole, and because of you, Mom is sick. She doesn’t fucking care about you anymore, Aiden. You’re dead to her. You left.” I hear his voice change into something so familiar it hits me in the gut. “The least you can do is get us our fucking money.”
I sigh, rubbing a hand down my sweaty face. “You’re high.” Of course he is. Why am I surprised? So much for the money I sent for his rehab.
Another dark chuckle on the other end. “Just get us our money.” He hangs up, and I pull back, staring at the screen.
“Fuck.” The bastard knew what he was doing bringing up Mom. He knows I have a soft spot for her, even if she’s practically disowned me for leaving. I needed out. I needed a life, and that was no life worth living.
The screen flashes with another text, and I open it.
Unknown:
Have you got it yet?
I bite down, grinding my teeth to a pulp. I should have done it already. I need to get it over with. Just give them whatever they want and be done with whoever this is.
Working on it.
It takes a second for whoever is on the other end to read it and start typing. I squeeze my fists, anticipating their response.
Unknown:
I’m not a patient man.
It’s a guy. At least I know that.
I pull up the text thread with Carol, my manager, and shoot her a text.
Do you have any more shifts?
She replies within a minute.
Carol:
You’re already working five days a week.
I’ll take whatever you have.
I watch the three little dots dance on the screen, my fingers gripping my phone. “C’mon,” I mumble to my phone screen. “Just give me something.”
Carol:
I have Saturday available.
“Carol, you’re one hell of a woman.” I grin, tapping away on the screen.
I’ll take it.
8
I don’t give up
“Shit.” Gabi’s eyes widen when we enter the bar. “I need to go to the bathroom.”
