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Before I could even respond with some type of plea, Warren was already walking away. My check at the restaurant wouldn't even cover one month’s rent.
"Fuck."
"Mommy, that's a bad word."
I jumped at the sound of Claire's voice. She was standing behind me, half her hair braided.
"Let's get ready, baby, c'mon."
She propped a hand on her hip and pouted her lips. She was only ten but already showing me the attitude her teenage years would bring. "Why were you having a bad dream this morning?"
"Sometimes, people have bad dreams." Or fucking nightmares. "Now, let's get ready. We have to make a pitstop before the park."
She skipped back to her room, and I darted for my bedroom, pulling out my purse from the party from beneath my bed. I clipped it open and grabbed the USB from inside.
At least, one thing had gone well in the last twenty four hours.
This would be the payday that would turn our life around.
I convinced Claire to go to a park on a different side of town, one across from Quinn's apartment. It was against our business deal to meet at each other's places, but all of my calls to him were going to voicemail. Quinn was as reliable when it came to payments as he was to answering my texts and calls...so this wasn't a good sign.
Still, I'd been to his apartment before and knew which unit of the townhouse he lived in. It was a quaint red brick townhouse, and his apartment was in the bottom left off the lobby. I didn't start getting worried until Quinn refused to answer the buzz. If he was backing out on me, he had another thing coming. I needed to breathe. He'd never done anything likethis before.
"Mommy, I'm hungry."
The door opened as Quinn's neighbor exited, and I grabbed Claire's hand, pulling her inside. "Soon, honey. We're just making a pitstop.”
"Fine."
Quinn's apartment was behind the main stairwell, and I paused as a voice floated from the back of the building. "Hold on, honey," I whispered to Claire, putting her hand on the stairwell. "Stay right here, okay?"
She looked confused but nodded. I didn't move far. Slowly, I eased around the railing, just far enough so that I could see the back apartment. The door was propped open, and two men's voices were leaking out into the hall.
I inched closer, careful to stay away from the opening but getting close enough to make out the voices. "He's not here."
There was a sound of drawers opening, Quinn's belongings being moved around.
"Which makes him guilty."
"Or it means he's just not here."
"Or he's hiding out. Put an eye on the place. Jessie's convinced Quinn's part of the blackout at his house. If there's something going on here, we're going to find it."
My heart skipped.
Jessie? As in Jessie Isaacs? And he not only knew Quinn but also suspected he was behind the very crime I had committed.
I bolted for the front door, grabbing Claire's hand and darting out into the warm sun.
What. The. Fuck.
8
LUCAS
The clatter of silverware blended with the conversation, all of it falling into the background, my sense of sound shutting down as my eyes honed in on the family at the table across from us.
A husband, wife, and their young daughter were seated at a booth in the corner of Miller's, their words impossible to hear over the conversation in the restaurant. The young girl and her dad were playing Rock Paper Scissors. As the girl dropped Scissors and the dad revealed Paper, the little girl cheered, and her father reached over, lightly poking her ribs and tickling her.
