Slate’s boots stomped on the bare floorboards, and he rounded my tatty sofa to stare at me.
“Did I miss something last night? Was it not me who stopped Royce and helped you? Nobody messes with a woman in my line of sight. You got fucked over yesterday; I’m trying to make things easier so you can heal. Jaelynn, I don’t need attitude,” Slate stated firmly.
“I’ve no money, okay? Is that what you wanna hear? I don’t get paid enough to buy decent food and pay the rent and bills. So, I have to choose. I don’t want to sleep on the streets, so I eat ramen and drink water! Happy now you’ve embarrassed me? Let’s get it all out. This sofa, I picked it up from the roadside. Someone had dumped it. Same with the rest of the crap in this shithole.
“No, I don’t like living hand to mouth, but I’ve no choice. I apologise that I can’t offer you food or drinks. Sorry, I was attacked and you feel responsible for me. Who are you? Why do you wish to help so badly? I’ve got nothing to give you,” I cried and burst into tears.
Slate huffed, and the sofa dipped as he sat and hauled me into his arms. For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, I snuggled in tight and sobbed in his chest. Slate rubbed my back, and I fell apart again. This man was turning me inside out.
Slate
Jaelynn was asleep. She had literally cried herself out. He’d left her tucked up in bed with tatty threadbare blankets to keep her warm, and Slate’s temper was on the rise. From everything he’d witnessed, Jaelynn was a genuine person. She’d not asked for money when she’d helped at the bar, nor had she kept her tips.
Slate’s gut told him that Jaelynn was on the run from someone. Nobody needed a cash-in-hand job for any other reason. And Slate had decided he was going to help her out. Step one, call Mac.
Slate sat on his ass on his bike and waited for Mac to pick up.
“Yo,” Mac finally replied, out of breath. Slate stiffened, had he disturbed something? “Had to fuckin’ fight Pirate for my phone. Asshole bird was about to dump it in the ice.”
Slate allowed himself a chuckle. “You got the waitress position open?”
“One, yeah.”
“It’s filled, Jaelynn needs a job,” Slate said.
Mac grew silent, and Pirate made a rude noise. “The girl from the strip joint?” Mac asked.
“Yup, and she needs paying cash in hand, Mac,” Slate added.
“How much trouble is she in?” Mac demanded instantly.
“No fuckin’ idea. And that’s never stopped us helping someone before. Jaelynn, right now, is asleep in a second-hand bed she picked up off the streets. She’s got fuck-all. We’re gonna give her a break because she worked her ass off for us and asked for nothing in return,” Slate stated implacably.
“Fine by me. I’ll let Drake and Manny know. She’ll start in a week,” Mac replied and cut the call.
Slate dialled Ezra next, who answered with, “Brother.”
“Got a girl who can handle your paperwork. But she can’t work until ten in the morning, as she’ll be working at the bar from seven at night until two a.m.,” Slate explained.
“Part-time is fine. She’s just gotta stay on top of our shit. She can work eleven and finish at three,” Ezra replied.
“She’ll start in a week,” Slate added.
“Who is she?”
“Jaelynn. She needs cash in hand, Ezra.”
“Girl’s running, obviously. Not a problem, tell Jaelynn casual dress, and I’ll see her soon,” Ezra responded, added a goodbye, and hung up.
Slate called Slick next. “Need a favour.”
“What?” Slick asked, sounding distracted.
“You okay?”
“No. I’m gonna kill me a kid if he looks at Summer’s ass again,” Slick replied, raising his voice. “Yeah, that’s right, she’s my woman.”
“Slick!” Slate heard Summer snap, and he swallowed a chuckle.