Page 6 of Covenant

The boiling water tells me it’s time to add the noodles and deliver the bowl of warmed-up soup to Jackson. He’s thankful when I hand it to him, and I watch as he greedily slurps it up.

I sink to the edge of the bed and run a hand down my face. He notices but says nothing. There’s nothing to say. I had it all and now I have nothing.

No fiancée. No job. No money.

I can’t even afford in-home care for my brother who desperately needs it. Our parents decided that they didn’t need to renew his insurance. Eighteen-year-old boys don’t get hurt tragically.

But he did. And now here we are. He’s in my care, missing out on his senior year of school while I try my best to keep him alive.

To keep him on track to success.

But I’m failing. I’m not doing well at all.

He’s better here than with those fuckers who call themselves parents,I remind myself. Here, Jackson is fed, warm, and cared for. I may not be able to give him everything he needs, but it’s more than what those fuckers were giving him.

They haven’t even called to ask about him. Their silence is louder than any insults they hurled at me growing up.

“Where’s your dinner?” Jackson asks.

“Shit,” I murmur as I head back out to the kitchen and see it almost spilling over. I quickly turn the burner off and set it aside, the stress of my day making me more nauseous than hungry.

I’ll save this for Jackson. I don’t even want it anymore.

My forehead hits the fridge and I let out a shaky breath.The Firm will fix it. It’s what they do.

I just have to hope that, whatever they ask of me, it doesn’t take me from Jackson.

I’m all he has.

2

WYATT

It takes seven hours for the fear to creep in.

Seven hours with no sleep. Just me staring at the cracked ceiling, wondering what the fuck I was thinking going to The Firm of all people.

What if they ask me to rob a bank? To smuggle drugs? Fuck. What if they ask me to commit murder? Can I do that?

Last night, I thought maybe I could. But in the cold light of day, I’m less certain. No, not less certain, really fucking fucked. I’ve made a mistake. A huge one.

I obsess over it, turn it all over in my mind. What if the price they demand ends up hurting Jackson? What if he’s the price I have to pay?

Maybe I’ve made the wrong choice. There has to be another way, right?

You’ve already exhausted every other avenue. This is the only one left.

That doesn’t stop me from slipping my shoes on before Jackson is even awake. As I do, I feel the tackiness of the infernal gum on the sole. It wants to remind me of who I am, of who I’ve become.

Yeah, gum, I fucking know how low I’ve sunk. No need for the reminder.

The air is bitter on the return trip to the church but I barely notice. Sunshine doesn’t make the decrepit building any more appealing. If anything, it elongates the shadows. It reminds me of who could be hiding. Who might be watching.

I don’t know who the members of The Firm are. I don’t ever want to know.

I didn’t bother to bring my coat, the anxiety riding me too hard, but I don’t feel the cold. I don’t even think about it.

All I think about is getting that fucking letter back.

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