Page 58 of Devil in a Tux

He’ll finish on Monday.

-Zhukov

Monday? Double fucking hell.

I squished my way across the soggy carpet to the bathroom and went through the implications in my head. I didn’t have to touch my bed to confirm that it was a wet mess I couldn’t sleep in tonight, or maybe ever again. Even if I’d had the money, which I didn’t, I couldn’t get a mattress delivered at this time of day. Last time I checked, all I could afford with the space left on my credit card would be a sleeping bag to go on the wet floor.

Chelsea had gone to her parents’ place. Gwen was out of town for the weekend with Chelsea, and her boyfriend, Hugo, was at her place, I was pretty sure. Even with this tale of woe, Dad would turn me away at the door unless I told him I’d broken it off with Evan, which I couldn’t do and wouldn’t lie about.

In short, I was screwed. I could afford a one-night stay at the cheap hotel in Flatbush, or maybe two if I raided my coin jar. Payday wasn’t until next Friday.

As I teared up, I berated myself. Maybe my sister was right. Being proud and principled was okay most of the time, but sometimes I had to bend. Clearly, accepting Evan’s help with my plumbing issue would have been the right thing to do.

I was such an idiot.

Loud running footsteps sounded in hallway. I quickly turned the lock on the door and slid the chain in place.

Someone tried the door handle, then banged on the door. “Hey, blondie. You owe me fifty bucks.” It was Pinky’s voice.

I stayed quiet, stifling my sobs.

“We’ll be waitin’ downstairs. Oh, and Dingo says you owe him fifty too.”

A girl from the building next door had told me what that was code for—fifty bucks to not have to suck him off. I had that much in my wallet, but after the time in jail I’d cost Pinky, it might not end there.

Only after a heard their receding footsteps did I dare pull out my phone. Worried that one of them might still be listening by the door, I texted Evan instead of calling.

ME: Hurry please.

It was only a minute or two before I heard more noises from the hallway and then pounding on my door.

I sobbed too loudly.

“Allie? What’s wrong? Open up.” It was Evan.

“I stubbed my toe.” The words flew out of my mouth before I had time to check that they made any sense. They didn’t.

“Open up or I’m kicking down this excuse for a door.”

He was right about the door. I could hear every person that walked down the hall through the thin thing. “Just a second.” That was second stupid thing I’d said. It wasn’t like straightening up would make my apartment look like less of a disaster. I unlocked the door but left the chain in place when I opened it a crack. “I can’t go.”

“What do you mean? I texted you from downstairs but you didn’t answer, so here I am. Now let me in. We’re going to a play.”

Checking my phone, I saw the message I must have missed while walking up. I gave in. “Sure.”

I slid off the chain and opened the door, and he pushed inside and gasped. “You live like this?”

“No—”

He didn’t let me finish. “What the fuck happened to your face?” He flicked up the light switch.

“The light’s not working.” I brought my hand up, and just touching my cheek hurt. “I ran into the closet door in the dark.”

He reached for my face. “Let me see.”

I pulled away. “It’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing.” He tried the kitchen light switch with no effect and turned on his phone’s light to add more illumination. “Why is there water everywhere?”

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