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Lilah.
I always held to that, making sure Dad’s shit never touched her.
God. What a fucking mess this all is.
“I can’t do this forever. I need . . . I can’t keep doing this,” I say, speaking to myself but also Johnny.
I need an out.
“Once this is done. Once we settle this, I need to end it. I can’t do this forever. I need . . . I need to make it known that my father can no longer do this.”
Johnny smiles.
The look is devious. Dangerous.
Evil.
“You know, I could work on that. Talk to Carm. See what I could do.” I’m reaching into my bag and grabbing for my wallet where I have the cash I pulled for this reason, but I pause.
I pause because those words don’t sound right.
They sound . . . off.
The meaning of them doesn’t sit right.
It’s never that simple.
He takes a step closer, moving toward the open area between the customer area and behind the register.
His eyes are roaming my body as blood is draining from my face.
This is so not good.
This isso,so bad.
“It would require some . . . incentive for me, though.”
Can he hear my heart beating?
It’s going in time with the rhythm of the bass next door, low, steady.
Strangely, the noise is a comfort instead of its typical nuisance.
“What do you mean?” My hand is grasping the envelope with four thousand dollars in it.
“I think you know what I mean, Lola.” His voice is low, and his tongue dips out of his mouth, wetting his lips as he takes another step so he’s now fully behind the counter.
I’m weakened prey that limped into a cave, and he is a predator who followed the scent of my blood.
My hand goes out, the envelope between us. The white paper is shaking.
Shit.
Keep it together, Lola.
“I think you should take this and go.” He steps closer, a hand moving toward the paper.
“I could help you, Lola.”
