Page 5 of Hook

"What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to scare me?" she whispers as she backs up to the gate of the lot.

"I'm not trying; you just seem to be skittish on your own. Now get the hell out of here." I snarl in her direction, and she jumps slightly at the tone of my voice.

"Please," she looks down at the name tag on my shirt. "Hook?" she questions, and I nod my head.

"Please, Hook, you have to let me take my car back. I don't have any money and no place to go. If you don't let me take my car,they'll find me. I'm sure they will." She squeezes her eyes shut, and a sudden surge of protectiveness rushes through me. Her problems are not my problems, but it's clear that she's going through something—something that she can't get through on her own.

"Look, miss?—"

"Bea, my name is Bea."

I shake my head, not interested in her name. I don't want to know anything more than what I already know. What I know is I don't need any problems. I'm still on probation, and from the way she reacted when she popped out of the car, whatever she's going up against is a problem that's destined to send me back to the clink. I'm not going to risk it, even if she is an intense woman who seems to be the only person to make me laugh in the last few months.

"Listen, Bea," I say with as much patience as I can muster. "I understand you're going through a tough time. But this isn't my problem."

She glares at me, her eyes narrowed in anger. "You're heartless," she spits out.

"I'm realistic." I shrug, not wanting to get into a philosophical debate about emotions and heartlessness.

For a split second, guilt tugs at my chest and for some reason, I feel like an asshole for making her go through this situation alone. But then reality hits me like a ton of bricks and reminds me why staying out of this mess is the smarter thing to do.

"Bea, I can't let you take this car out of here. You're going to have to pay the fine. If you can't pay the fine, then you can't have your car." I shrug and try to reach behind her to open the gate.

"So what am I supposed to do? Where do I go?" she asks me as if I had the answers to all her problems.

"Can't you go to the cops or something? There are plenty of resources in town."

"I can't go to the cops. Don't you think I would have done that if I could?" she fumes at me.

"I don't know what you would have done. I don't know you, woman. That means whatever your damage is isn't my problem. I did my job, and right now you're trespassing."

She squints her eyes at me, and I can tell that she's seconds away from blowing up at me. I don't have time for this. "See yourself out. If you try and steal the car from the lot, I'll have the police hunt you down for grand theft auto. Don't test me." I turn my back to her and walk over to the other cars I towed today.

"I should've known. You're just like that asshole. Bastards, all of you," she mutters before I hear the gate open and her walk out.

I'm not sure who this bastard is that she's talking about, but I know whatever he did, he truly hurt her. I don't want to be. It's not my business. I just let her go as I focus on my job. I'm sure whatever problems she's gotten herself into, she's more than capable of getting herself out of them.

I'm no one's hero.

Four

Bea

I am not cutout for the homeless life.

I've been walking since last night after Hook kicked me out of the tow yard. The cool Washington air slices through the paltry clothing I have on. Not that I can do anything about that. I don't have any other clothes or money.

This afternoon as I sat on a bench a woman probably a few years older than me walked up and put five dollars in my hand. That's how bad I look. People think I'm a panhandler.

I was grateful simply because the five dollars allowed me to get a little something to eat for the day but the second she walked off I cried like a baby.

How the hell did I let my life come to this?

As much as I don't want to admit it I know the very day my life turned to shit.

May 13, 2017

The day I walked into the restaurant and accepted the slice of chocolate pie Lance had sent to me.

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