Page 9 of Covenant

Answers about what comes next.

“No, I was just thinking.”

Jackson frowns. “Next time, think louder, yeah? You’re all I have left.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll try.” I lean against the doorjamb and meet his gaze, knowing that everything is going to change. Things will get easier for him and harder for me now that this has happened, but I can’t tell him. I can’t admit it, not yet.

“What?” Jackson asks, rolling his eyes. “Why are you looking at me like you’re about to cry?”

“I’m not going to cry. It’s just musty in here. We need to fucking move.”

“Yeah, well, we can’t afford it. So we’re stuck, aren’t we?”

Not anymore, I think, but I don’t say that out loud. I just stand there, my mind reeling from the way this money will change our lives.

My asshole clenches.

Better get started on working my sphincter open to fit the drugs in.

It’s definitely going to be drugs.

* * *

I’m on tenterhooks for the next week.

Every time someone so much as walks past our door, I jump. My phone lives in my hand, just like the days when I worked at Lawson and Smith. Or, Lawson and Buckingham, I suppose, given Matthias and his brothers have officially changed the name. Those days are so foreign to me now, it’s as though it was a different person who lived that life. A Wyatt who had hopes, dreams, a future.

This Wyatt has none of those. All I want is to make Jackson’s life better, and to know what The Firm wants from me. The suspense is killing me. I have no control over the latter, but thanks to my now-bursting accounts, I can at least take care of the first part.

The day the money landed, I went grocery shopping. Nowhere fancy, just Walmart. I didn’t even fill the cart.What if the money disappeared? What if they’ve taken it back somehow?

I shouldn’t have worried. The bored cashier drawled that the transaction went through before he handed me the receipt.

That night, Jackson ate like a king. I swear, I could see the meat growing on his bones as he filled his stomach with all the proteins and nutrients he so desperately needed. It was so much better than just beans and rice.

Me though? I didn’t eat a bite. I couldn’t.

Might sound crazy, but I’ve gone this long without feeling full. What if I get used to it again? It’d make returning to my current state even harder.

But four days later, the money was still there. So, I bit the bullet and booked Jackson an appointment at the rehab clinic and another general check-up with his doctor. I could afford it now, so why not?

Now, a full week after the money came in, I find myself scrolling through apartment listings. Nothing fancy, nothing like what I used to share with…her.

I try not to think of her name. It doesn’t make me angry exactly, that’s too strong of an emotion these days.

But I don’t like the memories associated with her. The ones of her holding up my bank statement, screaming in my face.

Her recoiling in horror when she saw Jackson’s injury. When she realized how broken he was.

When she knew I was going to be the one to care for him.

When we learned how much it would cost me because he didn’t have insurance to cover any of it.

Shoving her back into the box in my mind, the one almost bursting from the trauma I’ve packed in over the years, I turn back to the listings. For each, there’s a reason to dismiss it.Too expensive. We don’t need one that big. Too many stairs for Jackson. Won’t accommodate a wheelchair.

“What are you doing?” Jackson asks suddenly, peering over my shoulder. He’s up on his crutches, walking around. It makes me nervous, wary even. What if he falls over? What if I can’t get him back up?

But then I think about all the money we have now and my heart stops hammering.

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