Page 24 of Risking it All

Feeling like I might be that con artist Relic pegged me as, I sent him a text:I landed you the job, but I have another favor to ask. How do you feel about driving my car?

Chapter nine

Relic

My current no win choice: should I pay the electric bill or the cellphone bill? Because I didn’t have money for both. Electricity might be cut off first, as I’d neglected that bill the most, but I couldn’t sleep at night with the phones turned off. On the flip side, Camila’s asthma would flare without the air conditioner. Open windows beckoned her allergies. But I needed to know if Camila or Lyra had problems and needed me.

Electric bill got the short straw. We’d roast, but we had lived without electricity during the summer before. Winter without power was a damn mind fuck. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.

“Got my back?” I said to Marsh as I did my last sweep of the area. It was Sunday night, the evening before the early morning trash pickup for the electronic store’s Dumpster. We had two potential dangers lurking for us on the street—the cops and other Dumpster divers who got chainsaw-wielding pissed if you touched what they believed was their territory.

“Always do,” he said, and as one synchronized unit, we moved from the shadows of the building across the street for the Dumpster. Once we got there, I zipped up the oversized welding jacket I had found in the garbage last year, and then I put on the welding gloves. Dumpster diving required thick extra layers for safety, so I got prepared to swelter in my jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt. The pair of very used steel-toe boots I’d bought off a guy at work for five dollars had my feet sweating, too. Dumpsters had their fair share of jagged glass, sharp metal, and used junkie needles.

“We’d cover a lot more ground faster if you’d let me jump in with you,” Marsh said.

“If we gotta bail quick, that arm’s still weak, and you won’t climb out fast enough. I can’t take the risk of us getting caught.” Because I’d never leave him behind.

Dumpster diving lived in that morally gray area between legal and illegal. Technically, trash was fair game to anyone; even police searching for evidence didn’t need a warrant to search trash.Butgoing through someone’s trash on their private property could be considered trespassing. Stores didn’t like us Dumpster divers, but the cops’ hands were tied because we weren’t on the store’s specific property. As I said, morally gray.

I climbed the Dumpster, ignored the gag-inducing stench, used my phone light to spot a landing area, and went in feet first. I moved around, letting whatever animal squatting know I was here and that now was the time to leave. I’d come across cats, dogs, squirrels, raccoons, possums, snakes, rats (I fucking hated rats), and one time a devil-possessed rooster. I don’t know how the hell that monster ended up in a Dumpster, but when the feathers started flying, I saw my literal life flash before my eyes.

A bird flew out, and my heart skipped two beats. Then I swept the area with my light, searching for electronics or anything else I could salvage and sell online for quick extra cash.

Mostly trash bags on top, which meant I was going to have to dig.

I paused with each trash bag, weighing it in my hand before separating thenopebags from thepossiblebags. Long ago, I’d developed “the touch”—my way of figuring out which ones were trash and which ones might contain gold. I was searching for “busted” electronics that the store tossed. Some were damaged in shipping, some got damaged in the store, some were returns from customers, and some were devices customers brought in for the company to recycle. No, none of these should have made their way to the Dumpster. But they did. All thanks to the poor employees who made barely minimum wage while being yelled at by asshole customers before then being demeaned by asshole managers. Thankfully for me, they didn’t give two shits about what happened to the electronics at the end of their shifts.

“What’s up with you and Macie Hutchins?” Marsh asked as I dug.

“Nothing.” While Marsh was my best friend, no part of me wanted to talk Macie. Since February, people gossiped about her nonstop. She was a walking, talking interstate pileup everyone wanted to gawp at—the girl who survived the violent carjacking.

“It’s obvious she must be in your group therapy as she gave you a ride home the other day. Then you two hung out at the party, then you helped her get Drunk-ana home for the night, and now she’s gotten you the job.”

“We’re helping each other out.”

“So, you haven’t noticed she’s pretty?”

Oh, I’d noticed. Not just that she was pretty, but gorgeous, sexy, and had an adorable mouth I’d love to kiss. And she smelled good, like roses in the spring. Each and every time I saw her, I became mesmerized by her beauty and dreamed about placing my hand on that tempting curve of her waist and drawing her body close to mine. I wanted to feel her heat, Iwanted that soft body under mine. I wanted her, but what shook me more was that I liked how she laughed, liked it when I made her smile, loved when she was smiling at me.

Marsh chuckled as if he knew my internal thoughts, and that made me want to punch him in the face.

“Does she know you’ve had a crush on her since freshman year?” he pushed.

“Did you accidentally touch a hallucinogen? Is your brain okay?”

“Don’t deny it. I sat next to you in Spanish class and every damn day she came in, you stopped what you were doing to watch her.”

“I can bring some of this trash home,” I countered casually. “Maybe pour a layer of it onto your bed.”

Marsh laughed deeply because he enjoyed busting my balls and getting a reaction out of me. Enjoying the sound, I smiled on the inside. Since Eric had him roughed up this winter, he hadn’t laughed often.

“That friend of Macie’s?” Marsh said, “Gianna. She’s not much of a friend.”

He could say that again. What type of friend drags you out knowing you can’t drive then gets smashed? There’s code, and you stick to it. Marsh and I would never do each other dirty.

“People wanted details about the carjacking, so as soon as Macie went out back to talk to you, everyone started asking Gianna questions—and that girl sang.”

My gaze shot in his direction and a low rumbling of anger settled in my gut. “Are you kidding me?”

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