Page 11 of Chasing the Wild
I think I’m going to be sick.
Kayce Wilder is a dead man.
“Can I ask how long ago this finance was taken out?” I mumble. There’s no way I can pay that, and I shouldn’t have to, but these assholes don’t care about who or what or where. They’ll come for me and every dollar I’ve worked so hard for and take everything plus the sky-high interest they believe they’re owed.
The woman is silent, but I can hear the clack of her keyboard as she looks up the information.
“You’ve been a client of ours since May last year.”
I quickly do the math. That was about a month before Kayce and I officially ended things. He’d been sponging off me, staying in my apartment for almost six weeks by that point, if I remember rightly.
What a piece of shit.
“And how long do I have to make the full payment?” I think I’ve gone numb. At this point, I’m just going through the motions.
“Because you are already three weeks behind in your repayments, you have passed our leniency period when we might consider extensions or requests for other alternative payment structures.” She drones into the speaker. “We tried to contact you at your primary listed number multiple times, Miss Birch, but you have been unresponsive.”
Hot tears prick the back of my throat.
“Fine. Just tell me the due date, please.”
Another round of clacking, and I’m pretty sure I hear a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. To this woman, I’m just another number in a computer system. One who they now get to come after like a bully in the locker room with threats of enforcement and legal action.
I swallow down the tears.
None of this is my fault, nor should this loan even have been allowed to be registered in my name. What would something like this do for my future? I’m twenty-five and work every goddamn hour of my life just to make ends meet, for fuck’s sake. I don’t have a life, I don’t go out, and this is the shit that gets tossed my way?
Bitterness starts to churn somewhere deep in my gut.
“You must repay the amount in full by January tenth at the latest. We accept bank transfers and deposits, no credit.”
Barely one week to come up with over two thousand five hundred dollars? “Fine.”
“I’ve sent a text to this number I’m speaking to you on with my details and you can contact me on my extension if you need to discuss your case further.” True to her word, I feel the vibration of her incoming message.
“Ok.”
My mind is reeling.
“Happy holidays, Miss Birch.” The woman deadpans into the phone, then the line goes dead.
Meanwhile, I’m left sitting in an icy parking lot, feeling like an elephant is sitting on my chest.
My fingers wraparound the steering wheel like a vise as I imagine it being Kayce’s pretty boy neck.
“I want to punch him in his smug fucking face and knee him in the balls. Actually, scratch that, I want to string him up by his balls and castrate him like a bull.”
I yell into the unhinged voicemail I’m leaving my best friend, Sage. Letting her know where I’m going, so at least one person in this world knows where to look for me.
“That douchebag took out a loan in my name without asking, and then forgot to meet his payments. And, fucking typical, his number is going straight to nowhere. He is the worst. THE WORST.”
Of course, the line was dead when I tried calling him earlier. Because he’s living up a mountain in the middle of nowhere,avoiding life and every goddamn adult responsibility that comes with it.
“No wonder he couldn’t find himself a sponsor and had to drop off the rodeo circuit. Useless dick.” I thump the steering wheel with my palm.
“So in case you have to look for my body, instead of being on my way to my new job, I gotta detour back to Crimson Ridge… it’s a fucking tiny place, in the depths of goddamn winter, because hell will freeze over before I let him get away with this shit. You will be pleased to know I’m channeling my inner Sage Maloney and will absolutely claw his eyes out of his motherfucking skull.”
My best friend is feisty, loud, and would shred Kayce to pieces on my behalf given half the chance. She’s my ride-or-die, and we grew up as close as sisters, with her family living next door to Evaline. For as long as I’ve known that girl, she’s called herAunt Evie,and we spent our childhood and teenage years roaming between the two houses like wild creatures. I was welcomed with open arms, living with utter freedom while we giggled our way through endless sleepovers and homework dates, bouncing between her family home and my aunt’s place.
