Page 14 of Sin & Secrets

“Then what are you doing with him?” Mia snaps at me. “Because despite my best efforts, you still have that asshole of a boyfriend breathing down your neck every ten seconds.”

Exhaustion washes over me at her words. It’s so late, and work will already be hell tomorrow if I have to face Danny and Teresa again. “I’m tired, okay? Can we drop this?”

“I’m just trying to look out for you.”

I offer her a small, incredibly grateful smile. “I know.”

She returns it, and we both head back out into the club. It’s strange to see the space lit up and empty, like some kind of soulless shell, compared to how much life is usually crammed into every corner.

I wait by the door as Mia finishes locking up, and we both step out into the brisk night air.

Bracing myself for the long walk ahead, I shove my hands deep into the pockets of my leather jacket. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

But when I turn back to wave, Mia is staring at me.

“How are you getting home?”

“It’s fine, Mia.”

“I thought you said you made tips yesterday.”

I shrug, not wanting to add more fuel to the fire that is the Cassandra-pity-party.

But Mia sees right through it. “I’m not letting you walk back to Brownsville. It’s four a.m..”

“I said it’s fine!”

“Quit being stubborn and take this,” she says, marching over and shoving a couple of bills into my hand.

I grimace as I look at the three twenties she passed to me. “I don’t need your charity.”

“Then pay me back later,” she insists. “I will not be able to sleep tonight if you don’t get home safe. And you don’t want to see what happens when I have to run a shift on under eight hours of beauty sleep.”

I offer her a weak smile. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Then keep trying to.” She gives me a stern look before turning away. “Text me when you’re home, okay?”

I wave at her retreating figure and let out a long breath.

It has been seventeen years since I was last in Brooklyn. In that time, the streets have become nearly unrecognizable. Still, I’m able to find a cab within a few minutes after helping a group of party girls to the nearest fast-food chain.

The cab ride takes thirty minutes, and I have to fight with each passing second not to fall asleep.

Claudio’s home is in an apartment complex on the wrong side of Brownsville. Seventh floor, no elevator, and a new type of stench emanating from his neighbor's door every time I pass by.

Still, it’s more than I can afford while trying to save up for a place of my own.

When we left Ohio, Claudio told me I was welcome here. All I needed to do was keep the space clean, and what was his was mine. But I think a part of me always knew I needed a backup plan, just in case the worst were to happen.

Like if he were to suddenly decide I owed him seven thousand dollars worth of rent.

I shake off the sense of despair and switch on the lights. Claudio is still out, as he promised, leaving me to assess my life in the cold light of the fluorescents.

My new reality is far from the comforts of my family home in Ohio. Claudio has little interest in creature comforts like a bed frame or a dish rack. Everything lives in piles. Piles of plates, clothes, take-out boxes.

I don’t have the energy to deal with any of it, so I wander mindlessly to the bedroom and sink into the mattress.

Closing my eyes, I will sleep to take me quickly.

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