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Nothing.
“Hey, it ain’t so bad. There’s whole big world out there. If my life had been different I would have loved to see some of it.” She shook her head and light blue eyes took on a faraway quality. “I’ve seen a few states here and there in my younger years, but it was for work in houses and motels along the freeway. But never the Empire State Building, The Arch in St. Louis, the Rocky Mountains, nothin’ like that.”
I thought about Brandee long after I left her with all the leftovers and a small tip for her time, not just her words but her tone. It had been laced with regret. Not bitterness or anger, which I would have understood, but just regret for all the things she didn’t get to see, all the places she visited but never enjoyed.
I didn’t want a life like that, and I was glad my journey outside Ashby Manor had been educational if nothing else. It also strengthened my resolve to leave this town and start over. And that meant I needed to get myself together so I could save enough money to set myself up somewhere else, somewhere far from Glitz.
Maybe even far from Nevada.
It was a daunting thought. An exhausting thought and it was too early in the day to be exhausted so I shoved it down deep, grabbed the shopping bag on the passenger seat and made my way into Calvin’s place.
“Where in the hell have you been?”
I sighed. “That didn’t take long. Why so grumpy?” I figured Cal would be worried, maybe even a little suspicious but not angry. “I went out to get some ingredients for breakfast.”
Cal folded his arms across his chest, the red and brown checkered shirt that made him appear a little menacing, auburn brows dipped into a dark frown.
“What kind of ingredients?” His emphasis told me exactly where he thought I was, and even though he wasn’t wrong, I was offended.
I shoved the paper bag at him. “Take a look for yourself. All the ingredients for a perfect crackhead omelet!”
He shrugged, completely unaffected by my outburst. “That’s the thing about drug addicts, Bon. You just never know.” He inspected the bag, brows disappearing behind his disheveled hair when he saw the enoki mushrooms, truffle oil, and sundried tomato pesto.
A question lingered in his eyes. I felt sad and disappointed even though I knew I earned that skepticism honestly. “I wanted to get something nice, to do something nice but I didn’t exactly have enough money. So I made a few stops, filled out a few job applications. That kind of stuff.”
He didn’t totally believe me, but it was just true enough that Cal let it go. For now because I wasn’t naïve enough to think he’d forget about it.
“You found a job?”
“No,” I frowned. “But I did fill out some applications.”
And we were back to suspicion. “So, how did you get these pricey ingredients, Bonnie?”
I sighed and bit back the sarcastic reply that was on the tip of my tongue because I knew that I deserved every bit of this mistrust.
“I pawned the last of my stuff, all right?”
It was embarrassing enough, not to mention sadder than I anticipated that I needed to pawn things that had sentimental value. Admitting it to Calvin, though? Well that just felt like the pit of humiliation and despair.
“Sorry.” The word came out on a rushed exhale as his rigid posture slowly relaxed. “It’s just, the fucking Crusaders. They’re not gonna let the death of Squeaker go unpunished, never mind the shit with Savannah. It’s not safe for you to be out there alone.”
He shook his head, raking a hand through his hair as another sigh relaxed his broad shoulders even further. “Just remember what they did to Maisie and what they had planned for her.”
Cal’s words had the desired effect, and I slammed my eyes shut as the memories of Maisie’s torn clothes and bruised arms attacked me. I didn’t want to end up a victim of The Crusaders, which was why I was trying so hard to stay away from the drugs.
But part of me knew that what happened to Maisie was vengeance, not business. I owed them money and that was business, purely transactional. Capitalism at work, as my father would say.
“You don’t have to worry about me, Cal. I’ll be fine.” And I wouldn’t impose on the Ashby family any longer than I needed to. They had their own trouble, and they didn’t need mine adding to the mix.
“How about some breakfast?”
Cal flashed a sweet smile. “How about I make you breakfast?”
“Sure. Whatever.” I slid onto a stool at the island with a mug of coffee he had brewed waiting for me. I watched Cal move around the kitchen with the grace of athletes and dancers, while I tried to come up with different plans that would help me stand on my two feet with as little money as possible.
