Page 95 of Lost Lyrebird
I bite my nails to the quick as I debate what to do.Instead of answering, I search the phonebook and look up the local recruitment office.After finding the address and phone number, I jot down the info and stuff it in my pocket.
When I open the door a crack, just enough to see the landlord on the other side, I find his face level with mine and his small beady eyes set into a scowl under his bushy gray eyebrows.
“Rent was due three and a half weeks ago,” he snaps.“If you can’t pay up, you and your boyfriend need to go.”
“There must be some mistake.Finn said he’d paid ahead for four months.”
“He did no such thing.”The landlord pushes the door open another inch with his foot, and a heavy rock settles in my stomach.
“You got my money, or are you packing up?”
“Can you just give me another week or two.He’s overseas, and I haven’t been able to reach him.Finn has the money, and he’ll pay it.I think there’s just been some kind of mix-up.”
“No, I can’t afford to wait.My mortgage payment was due on the first, and that’s why rent is due on the first.If you can’t afford the place, then I suggest you start gathering your things.”
“But I don’t have anywhere to go.”
“Family?”
I’m nervous about answering honestly.I shake my head, though, taking a chance and hoping he’ll be more lenient if he knows I’ll be homeless if he kicks me out today.
He shakes his head in return.The strands of his thinning hair shift to reveal the bald spot beneath.“Not my problem.I’m running a business here, not a charity.”
“Did his check bounce?”
The landlord scoffs.“He never paid me.If he told you that, then he lied.Now, are you going to get me the money or not?”
“How much is the rent?”
“Seven fifty.”
Panic surges through me.My eyes dart around the nearly barren apartment, searching for something—anything—I can sell to come up with the cash.But the place is as empty as my options, except for the few personal items Finn salvaged from his father’s house, which I wouldn’t sell.Those items mean the world to him.They’re all that’s left after his dad’s passing and the incident with the Thirteen Devils using it as a meth lab.
He cherishes every piece of what he’s kept.
“I’ll try, but I might need more time.”Maybe Finn really didn’t pay him, but it’s hard to imagine.Finn has his shit together.He’s responsible.So unless this is simply his way of cutting ties and letting me down gently, I don’t see it being true.Weeks ago, I would have never believed he’d leave me to fend for myself, but now, with no word from him at all, my doubts are growing daily.
The scowl doesn’t leave the old man’s face.At my plea, his expression hardens and turns to resolve.He hikes his thumb up and over his shoulder.“Girl, I can’t just wait around forever.Not when I can find someone else tomorrow to move in and pay up.”
“I’ll go to the recruit—”
“There’s no point waiting if you can’t get me the money.”He pushes open the door and steps inside.
“Hey!”I try to stop him, but he manhandles me out of the way.
“Sorry, but you gotta go.Just clear out, and I won’t call the cops.”
He marches over to Finn’s boxes in the corner and opens the top one—the one with Finn’s journals.I run over and slam my hand down on the top, preventing him from digging through Finn’s things, seeing his private thoughts.
I have two choices: Leave and go back to the streets, or come up with the money.The landlord fucking pushes me back and reopens the box.After pulling a journal free, he flips through the pages.Without thinking, I rip it from his hands and clutch it to my chest.I swallow hard past the lump in my throat.
“Look, I’ll get it,” I say, my voice brittle even though conviction begins to build inside me.“By the end of the week.I swear.”
“How?”
“I don’t know, but I will.”
He pauses, and he eyes me up and down.His gaze fills with a predatory gleam.“All of it?”
