Page 40 of Klutch's Kryptonite

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I promise, my eyes still on Demi.

Chapter Twelve

Demi

“Nine thousand, five hundred and seventy-two dollars,” I whisper, counting the bills for the third time before tucking them into the envelope.

My fingers shake as I seal it. Almost ten thousand dollars. I’ve been working my ass off for the past week and a half, morning and afternoon shifts at Mel’s Diner, then nights at The Underground serving drinks. The tips at the fight club have been insane. A couple of nights I’ve made as much as seven hundred dollars. The idiots get wasted while watching the fights and don’t pay a lick of attention to how much cash they’re tossing around. Not that I’m complaining.

I slip the envelope into my purse and pull out my phone. Dad’s been avoiding my calls since I saw him at The Underground, but I try again anyway. It rings a few times before going to voicemail.

“Dad, it’s me. I have the money. Almost all of it. Please call me back.” I pause, tempted to add “I love you” but the words stick in my throat. Instead, I say, “Be safe,” and hang up.

There’s only four days left until Frankie’s deadline, and my father is still in the wind. I don’t know what I’m going to do if he doesn’t call me back. It’s not like I know how to get in touch with the gangster myself. The thought alone is terrifying.

My phone in my pocket starts vibrating.

McKenna: Lunch? I’m dying for tacos. Meet at Loco’s in 20?

I smile despite my worry over my dad. Kenny always knows when I need a distraction.

Me: On my way

I type out before grabbing my keys.

The second I step outside the clubhouse, I spot Rookie, my assigned babysitter for the day, crouched down beside his bike. He straightens when he sees me heading towards Klutch’s truck.

“Morning, sunshine,” he calls, flashing a grin that probably gets him laid on the regular.

I lift a hand and wave. “I’m meeting a friend for lunch.” I hate having a shadow but I know it’s not his fault. He’s doing what he was told. Klutch explained how the prospects have to put in their time if they want to become a fully patched member. I get it, earning trust from the club and showing that you’re dependable, but some of the stuff Klutch said the sponsors make the prospects do is kind of crazy. Poor Rookie had to sleep in a coffin next to a dead body once. Something about proving he could do what needed to be done. I cringe at the thought.

“Cool. I’ll follow you.”

I force a smile. Having him shadow my every move has gotten really old. Klutch insists it’s necessary, but it’s starting to make me feel like a prisoner.

“Thanks,” I reply dryly, climbing into Klutch’s truck.

With my shadow in tow, I pull out of the clubhouse gates. Twenty minutes later, I’m sliding into the cracked leather booth across from McKenna at Loco’s Tacos. We stumbled upon this place a few years back and now it’s our favorite hole-in-the-wall Mexican joint. Their enchiladas are divine which is what I order when our waitress comes over. “And a Sprite to drink, please.”

“I see you still have a babysitter,” McKenna notes when the waitress leaves. I glance over my shoulder at Rookie who is seated at the bar. He insists on being close enough to watch me, but we both know it’s only an illusion of privacy.

“Yeah,” I sigh.

“So, what’s new?” Kenny asks, diving straight in like she always does.

“Nothing much,” I reply, shrugging my shoulders. “I’ve got almost all the money now for my dad.”

Her eyes widen. “Seriously? That’s amazing!”

“Yeah,” I frown, “but I can’t find him anywhere. I’m starting to really worry, Kenny.”

Her face softens as she reaches across the table to squeeze my hand. “He’ll turn up, babe. He always does.”

I nod, not convinced but grateful for her optimism. “What about you? How’s work?”

McKenna’s face darkens, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I quit.”

My brows shoot up. I wasn’t expecting that at all. “You quit? Why? I thought you and Pee Wee were really hitting it off.”

---