Page 2 of Fire in Stone

Thoughts were spinning in my head like a twister. Most were filled with panic.

How long before I lose my car?

My phone?

Before I have to return to the streets again?

Before hunger will force me to beg and steal?

Again…

I drew in a long breath and tried to focus on one thought at a time.

The situation was bad. But I’d been through worse. I just really didn’t want to go back to thatworseagain…

I never met my father and didn’t remember my mother. She’d left me with my grandma when I was a baby and never came back. Grandma was the one who raised me. Thanks to her, I had a good childhood with school, friends, Sunday dinners, birthday celebrations, and other nice things that children get when they have adults who love them.

Grandma passed away when I’d just turned sixteen. With no other living or known relatives, I ended up with one foster family, then another, then another one, in less than six months. None of them were like my grandma. Not even close. The last couple were especially nasty, and the two teenage boys in their care seemed outright dangerous. That was when I ran. I’d figured I’d be better off on my own.

Except that at sixteen, I was too naïve to realize how much nastier the outside world could be to a young girl living on the streets. It hadn’t been pretty. And the man who had finally saved me from that life was no knight in shiny armor.

Chris was older than me by over a decade. He had a shady reputation and quickly drew me into his life of crime. When I’d finally realized that was not the future I wished for myself, it had taken everything I had to break free.

I rubbed my nose, fingering the hoop piercing in my left nostril—the only piercing I’d kept besides the earrings, after switching to a “cleaner,” more professional look for the job as a receptionist at the real estate office last year.

I’d worked hard to earn an honest living. I’d done it for almost a year. And I could do it again, dammit. I still had my phone and enough gas to drive for a few hours. My car needed some work, but hopefully, it would last long enough for me to find a new place to settle down.

I took my phone out. The screen flicked to life. The service was good here—all bars.

Little blessings.

If I found a few suitable job postings in the area, I could arrange for some interviews as soon as possible. Except that it took me less than a few minutes of searching to realize how horribly right Michelle had been about the poor state of the economy. Wanted ads were few and far between. And judging by the wages advertised, I’d need at least three of these jobs to make ends meet, which also meant there would be no college classes for me any time soon.

The red circle with number one was glowing over my text messaging icon. I’d been ignoring it for a day now, since it was from Chris.

He and I were done. I’d told him that the last time I saw him back in January when he took me for a “romantic” country drive on his fancy motorbike. He’d said he wanted me back, promising that things would be different between us—better. But there was nothing he could do or say that would make me change my mind.

Why did I not delete his message, then? I had no idea.

I clicked on it now, fully intending to get rid of it. The number with way too many zeros to ignore jumped at me from the screen.

“$200,000…”

Chris clearly knew how to get people’s attention. My thumb hovering over the screen, I read the rest of the message.

“Long time no see, baby girl. I’ve got a job for you. Quick and easy. Pays $200,000 cash.”

The zeros danced in front of my eyes. I shouldn’t be thinking about what that money could mean for me, but I did think. It meant food in my stomach, a roof over my head, a finished college degree, a better job…

A new life.

All I had to do was to take a step back for this one last job, to dive into the muddy swamp of my past once again, before I could leave it all behind for good and move forward even faster than before.

He didn’t put in the message what the job entailed. But knowing Chris, it was definitely something illegal. I’d worked for him for years and had done many things I wasn’t proud of. I’d sworn I was done with all of that.

But maybe, at the very least, I could find out what he wanted. I could always say no, couldn’t I?

I quickly typed,“What job?”and hit“send”before giving myself a chance to overthink it.

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