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It’d been cleared out. Completely. I stared at the zero balance in shock, unable to believe what I was seeing. When I’d opened the account in middle school, I’d shared it with my dad so he could put some occasional funds in for me. I must’ve forgotten to take his name off, because there was no way anyone else could’ve wiped out my money like that.
But the thing was, he hadn’t given me money since I’d gone off to college. All the funds I’d had in there was from my work at the University barn.
Feeling not only abandoned but now betrayed by my family, I started to dial home, but then disconnected, not sure I could talk rationally to them just yet. I couldn’t believe they’d stolen from me.
So I called my boss at the barn instead, only to be frostily told I was no longer employed there.
I wiped a trembling hand over my face, wondering what to do next. Who to go to for help. I’d never realized how having people in your life was such a big deal until there were no people there for you at all. Contacting any of my fraternity brothers was out of the question, and that had pretty much been the only clique I’d hung with.
I ended up calling Jana. I knew we’d broken up, but we’d been together for a year. She would know better than anyone that I wasn’t a monster. And we hadn’t even broken up for really strong reasons. There’d been no big, nasty, ugly fight where we now hated each other’s guts. We were still friends.
I thought.
I hoped.
I’d just grown distracted after all the problems had started at home, feeling like I needed to be there, while she’d felt as if I needed to be more mentally with her. That was how she’d worded it anyway. It had sounded like a pretty selfish excuse to me. When I’d needed her support most, she’d flaked on me. But hell, maybe she’d support me now. Maybe—
“You fucking prick bastard,” she growled, answering on the third ring.
“Jana,” I breathed her name in relief, glad she’d actually picked up the phone.
“How dare you call me? How fucking dare you? I mean, seriously, Beck. Melody? Melody the fucking slut Fairfield?”
Ah, shit. I hadn’t thought of the scenario where she’d believe me but still be pissed because of my lousy taste in rebound partners. Not that I’d picked Melody, exactly, but—
“Lose my number,” Jana growled.
“No, wait! I need—”
She hung up before I could plead my case.
So, yeah, I guess Jana wasn’t going to be supportive this time around either. I’d been an idiot for even trying her.
I sighed and fisted my hand before setting it against my forehead. What the fuck was I supposed to do now? I had no money, no family, no friends, no job, no place to stay after tomorrow when the hotel kicked me out. I had nothing but the broken junk in the back of my vandalized truck.
For some reason, I thought of rainbow-hair girl. What had Max said her name was?
Bailey something? Bailey…Prescott. That was it.
I logged into the Facebook app on my phone to see if I could find her, but before I could even think about searching, the newsfeed had me freezing.
“Holy shit,” I uttered.
Everyone hated me. They hated me and wanted me to die a slow, agonizing death with parts of my body cut off and burned before putting me out of my misery.
Silently, I turned my phone off and placed it face down on the mattress of the bed beside me.
This was worse than I ever could’ve imagined.
Chapter 13
BAILEY
I felt groggy and sore when I woke. Sleep had come in sporadic bursts here and there throughout the night.
And it was all Chance “The Cowboy” Fairfield’s fault.
It’d been a day and a half since he’d spit on me, and it was still bothering me.
