Page 25 of Risking it All

“Gianna said that Macie was shot twice, almost died, was on a ventilator in the ICU for a week, and then was in the hospital for over a month after that. She then said that Macie hadn’t given any helpful tips to the cops. Gianna thinks it’s because she hit her head when she fell to the ground when she was shot,which makes sense. But Macie’s family wants to know who did it, so they and their friends put up a fifty-thousand-dollar reward for any information that leads to an arrest, but no one’s come forward with anything.”

My mind stuttered on “fifty-thousand-dollar reward.” I’d volunteer to be carjacked myself if I could solve my own crime and reap that money. But there’d be one big hang-up in all of that. “Did any of Eric’s crew have anything to do with the carjacking?”

“No,” Marsh answered. “Eric’s leaving the car market to other enterprises.” “Enterprises” being other gangs. “His focus is elsewhere.” Meaning drugs.

“Macie talk to you about the carjacking?” Marsh asked in a small voice, a quiet one that told me he hated asking, but I understood. His mind was probably stuck at the same place as mine—fifty thousand dollars. The reason he worked for Eric was to make sure he and his family could pay the mortgage and not lose their house. Fifty thousand dollars could buy his freedom from Eric. Fifty thousand dollars could buy my freedom from my father’s bad decisions.

“No,” I said absently. “She won’t talk about it.”

Marsh didn’t say anything in response, just turned his back on me and took a few steps from the Dumpster. My stomach dropped for both me and him. I hated this life. I hatedhislife. I hated how we both felt trapped and enslaved to this poverty and how no matter how much we tried we’d never be anything more than dirt.

Pissed off, angry, feeling I was about to explode, I kicked one of the garbage bags and expected it to go flying, but instead my foot came into contact with something plastic and hard. Hesitant excitement ripped through me, and I tore open the bag. My lips edged up.

Laptop in hand, I gave Marsh the good news of victory. “Paydirt! Laptops. There’s got to be at least ten in here. We just landed rent for me and mortgage for you.”

I felt light on my feet at the sight of Marsh’s smile.

***

Marsh and I celebrated like kings on the way back, turning up the music in his ride, letting our heads nod with the beat while I actually allowed myself to relax. These twelve laptops weren’t going to solve any long-term problem, but liquidating them could mean I could afford Camila’s inhaler this month and her asthma medication. It meant if the electricity did get cut off, because I could afford her medication, I wouldn’t have to listen to her wheeze, wishing I could breathe for her, the guilt eating me alive.

Marsh pulled into the parking lot for my apartment complex, and we wasted no time gathering the laptops and chargers I had salvaged from the Dumpster along with some other miscellaneous crap we could make a buck or two from. We already tried powering up two laptops, and that light shining from them was glorious. The start program ran as sweetly as the bass that had vibrated Marsh’s car earlier.

First step, start all the computers. Next step, wipe everything off of them because the electronic stores hardly ever did that, and I had no interest in helping someone commit identity fraud. Third step, list those babies on the internet with a description of “used” and the appropriate condition. Fourth step, mail them off to their brand-new owners. The ones that didn’t work, we’d use for parts to create computers that would work and sell those. Then we’d sell the miscellaneous stuff we found to people who had booths in flea markets. They’d mark up the price and make their own money.

Marsh and I shared a constant stream of light-hearted conversation as we walked up the stairs, but the moment I put my key in to unlock the door, my stomach twisted with dread. The door was unlocked, which spelled bad news. Lyra should be at work and Camila with Alma. Before I could tell Marsh we should split to his house, the door to my apartment opened and I came face to face with my father.

How the hell did Dad own a key? Lyra. Lyra had to have given him a key, and now he had a way into my home. My home. Lyra was definitely on my shit list.

In the living room, Eric sat on the wooden chair (the one I had found the morning after eviction day of the apartment next door) as if it was his throne and this was his kingdom. All he needed was a crown made of blood and some peasants to cower in front of him.

“Looks like you’ve been busy, Relic,” Eric said.

“Yeah.” I set the stack of laptops on the kitchen counter. Marsh deposited the power supplies next to them and dropped the bag of other shit we’d found on the floor.

“Hey,” Marsh said to Eric because, you know, his employer.

“Marshall, I’m assuming your fingers are feeling better,” Eric said with a hint of amusement. With my back still to Eric, I had to breathe in deeply to rein in the anger. I wanted to toss this bastard out of my home and life.

“Yeah,” Marsh said, “they are.”

“I hope this means you’ve learned your lesson?”

“Definitely.”

“Good.” Eric’s amusement had turned to a frozen icepick. And Marsh asked why I wouldn’t work for Eric. Why would I want to give someone this type of power over me? “Relic, I’m here to make sure everything’s cool with your dad staying here again.”

It wasn’t, and I flinched because I wanted to tell Eric where he could shove my dad, and then I wanted to throw Dad out on his ass.

“I know you must be concerned there’s not enough beds,” Eric continued. “But I told him he’d have to be fine with staying on the couch.”

I had no idea why Eric believed he needed to cram Dad down my throat. I finally turned to face him. “I’ll need to discuss it with Lyra when she comes home from work.”

“Lyra’s on a date,” Dad said. “And Camila was asleep when I got here.”

My spine straightened with fury. Lyra skipped work and left our sister with these bastards?

“I’m done with you sulking over your dad,” Eric said. “I allowed it because I get your anger, but it’s time he moves back in. He’s your family. Your dad. Blood means everything.”

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