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As I’m about to turn and head inside, a shadowy figure catches my eye. It’s hard to see in the darkness, but I can make out the outline of a person lurking in the shadows across the street. My heart pounds in my ears. Am I being followed? Is it Jamie?
I take a step back towards the cab, but it’s already pulling away, leaving me alone on the silent street. My palms sweat as the figure takes a step closer, whilst still remaining in the shadows. Ice cold dread swirls in my stomach even as my body heats with sweat.
Forcing my feet to move, I take another step back, my eyes trained on the shadowy figure that’s now just a few yards away from me, but despite his proximity I still can’t make out his – or her – features.
I try to scream out, to call for help, but my throat is dry and my voice comes out as nothing more than a whisper in the wind.
The figure steps out of the shadows now, and I can see that it’s a man. He’s tall and intimidating, way too built to be myweedy ex, Jamie, but his face is obscured by a hood. Whoisit and why are they staring at me?
My mind is racing as I try to think of a way out of this situation. Should I run? Try to fight him off? I’m reluctant to go into the building and give away where I’m staying…which doesn’t leave me a lot of options.
But before I can even decide what to do, the man turns on his heel and walks away.
It takes several minutes for my heart rate to return to normal and I can stop my knees shaking enough to walk the few steps up to Elle’s apartment block. It takes me four attempts to get the key in the lock though, and when I manage it, I slip inside, lock the door behind me and peer out through the glass to see if the shadowed stranger has returned.
No sign of him.
That was so weird. Today has just been one oddity after another. Maybe I’m just a bit spooked because of everything that’s happened in the last forty-eight hours. Probably the guy was just lost and wanted to ask directions, took one look at me freaking out, and decided it wasn’t worth the hassle.
Deciding I’m just jumpy as fuck, I shake it off and head up the stairs to Elle’s flat.
As I make my way inside, the sweet aroma of Elle’s cooking wafts towards me. She’s been making some kind of stew or soup from the scent of it. She’s humming a cheerful tune and she greets me with a warm smile.
“Thank fuck you’re back! I was starting to get worried! Why didn’t you message me?”
I open my mouth to reply but she waves her questions away. “It doesn’t matter. How did the interview go?” she asks, still stirring her concoction.
“It was… interesting. I got the job,” I reply, still in a state of shock.
“Oh, congratulations!” Elle exclaims, her eyes widening in excitement. “That’s wonderful news! What kind of job is it?”
“It’s a bartending job, but it pays really well. Too well, actually. It’s almost too good to be true,” I say, voicing my doubts out loud. “And I didn’t really get hired, per se, but I have a trial shift tomorrow and I plan to smash it.”
Elle stops stirring and turns to me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. “You will smash it, babe. You’ve got this.”
“Thanks. I hope so. Food smells good.”
“I’ll turn it down so it’ll be ready in an hour. Go and have a nice hot bath, you look frozen.”
I don’t tell her about my silliness outside. That I’m in shock rather than cold. Instead, I give her a quick hug and take myself off for that bath that she suggested, deciding to put it out of my mind and focus on my delectable potential new boss instead.
DASH
Two hundred grand. That’s how much my piece of crap step brother owes whatever low-life criminal mafia boss he’s gotten involved with. How the hell does a twenty-two-year-old rack up that kind of debt? And that’s before even considering the interest.
Last night, the shakedown in the alley was exactly that. A ruthless attempt to make sure I understood just how high the stakes were. They took five grand off me right then and there, and it was clear that they meant business. They made it painfully clear that they wouldn’t hesitate to harm not just me but our entire family if we didn’t come up with the rest of the money.
The deadline they set for us is New Year’s Eve, just two weeks away. Panic sets in as I think about how impossible it seems to gather that kind of cash in such a short time frame. Our options are limited, and the weight of this debt hangs heavy on my shoulders.
I feel a crushing responsibility to protect my stepbrother, even though he’s the one who got us into this mess. I need to find a way out, for both of us, before the impending deadline crushes any remaining hope of a fresh start. But have we dug ourselves into a hole too deep to climb out of?
I always thought I could tell my brothers anything, but I can’t tell them about this. I can’t ask for help. We’re trying to expand the business, now that ’For Me’ is in its fourth year and ’Candy Canes’ is in its third. The others want to open another branch of the main club in another city. We’re pooling all our finances to make that happen, and bringing in backers and investors to help.
I can’t drop this on their doorstep. It’s not just about pride; it’s about protecting them from the kind of trouble we’re in. I can’t bear the thought of them shouldering this burden with me. It’s my stepbrother’s mess, and I’ll find a way to clean it up.
The last thing I want to do is work tonight, but I also know that if I don’t find something else to focus on, I’ll obsess over this new problem until I spiral. And that’s no use to anyone.
So, I drag myself away from my thoughts and put on my best game face. I head to ’Candy Canes,’ our club for the holidays, and immerse myself in the hustle and bustle of a typical night, but I stick to the main communal and social areas. I’m not in the mood to play and I have to politely decline several requests, offers and propositions.
