Page 33 of The Bratva King

He looks at the AC vent. I know what he’s thinking.

“Eleven is all I’ve got.”

Eleven hundred dollars is still a lot more than I have right now.

“Fine.”

With a quick signature on the bill of sale I made from a template I found online, he hands me the cash in an envelope and drives away in my car. I stand in the July heat, watching it go. It’s a hundred and four degrees outside, and I’m on foot with a four-year-old. I feel like the stupidest person alive.

“Where’s the car going?” Luke asks.

“A man bought it.”

He considers this. “Why?”

“Because we needed the money more than we needed the car.”

It’s probably too much information for him.

“Come on, let’s get a drink, and then we better get our legs used to walking.”

By the time we make it back to the apartment, we’re both hot and tired. I take Luke with me to the ground floor and knock on Dennis’s door, the envelope clutched in my hand.

“It’s a thousand,” I say. “I know it’s not everything, but it covers May and June. I’ll get this month’s rent to you soon.”

He takes the envelope. “It’s not enough. The notice still stands.”

“I will have the rest by the end of the week.”

I have no idea how, but he doesn’t need to know that.

He crosses his arms over his chest. He’s got a coffee stain on his shirt and the audacity to look down his nose at me. The man is a slumlord, and that’s being generous. “That’s not how this works.”

“Dennis.” I say his name slowly. “I’m trying to make this right. I just need a few more days.”

“You need a lot more than a few days by the look of it.”

I breathe through my nose and force myself not to lose it. You need this man. I don’t know if I can get a real apartment. Greg always told me not to risk a credit check. The casino job was a risk, but I needed it. And it’s been fine.

“Give me a few more days,” I say. “Please.”

I hate that I’m begging him. I hate everything about this moment. The way his eyes linger on me makes my skin crawl.

“You’ve got until the notice runs out.”

He slams the door in my face.

I stare at the closed door. So much for mercy.

“Come on, buddy. We have to do laundry today.”

I’ve been off the last few days, which is when I’d normally run errands. No car. No money. No running errands.

Fuck me.

Luke sits in a chair, flipping through one of his books, while I fold laundry. The laundromat is gross, but it’s the closest one to our apartment. I’m going to have to get used to it.

When my phone rings, I already know it’s going to be something unpleasant. Carla’s number flashes on the screen, and I brace myself.