Page 21 of Perfectly Petite Shorts
Elbows on my knees, I leaned my forehead into my palms as I stared at the stained, threadbare carpet. My worn pants were soft against my skin but fell about an inch short. The fact that I was still young enough to be growing was a clear sign that I was far too young to be out on my own, trying to push my questionable warlock wares. The only ring I had was one my loser father had left me. I’d had to sell everything else he owned to try and pay off his debts. Those trinkets had barely made a dent in what dear old dad owed. Right or wrong, theweight of that debt had fallen on my shoulders when he got himself killed.
Pounding erupted on my door, rattling the hinges.
“For the love of Gaia.” I leaned my head back and groaned. “I’m not fixing a damn thing.” Pushing myself up, less than four long strides brought me to the door. All I wanted to do was wallow in self-pity for a bit longer. I couldn’t believe the were-flamingo was back.
Ripping the door open, I said, “I’m not giving you your—” My words died on my tongue. This definitely wasn’t my client, and I definitely shouldn’t have opened the door. Not that my currentguestswould have let a little thing like a crappy apartment door keep them out.
My saliva felt thick and heavy as I swallowed. “How can I help you, Barney?”
Barney sounded like a nice enough name. It brought up images of someone kind and aloof. The werewolf standing in my hall was anything but. Most werewolves were large, broad hulking creatures. Others were whipcord thin, lean, and mostly mean. Most said they lived in packs, but I likened them more to gangs. Especially when speaking of Arie Belview’s pack.
Barney stood there, something larger than a toothpick stuck between his lips. He twirled the stick back and forth with practiced, casual ease. I knew better. Barney was quick and went from relaxed to fist in your face in less than 0.2 seconds. I’d felt those fists on more than one occasion and had no desire to feel them again anytime soon. Unfortunately, what I desired and what happed were typically two very different things.
“Afternoon, Vander.” Throwing a thumb over his shoulder, Barney asked, “That your handywork I saw walkin’ out of the buildin’?” His laugh was more of a low grumble. “You really are a shit warlock. You’re a fuckup, just like your dad.”
I cringed and hated the fact I couldn’t keep the emotional pain from my expression. I’d never been good at keeping my emotions under wraps.
“What do you want, Barney?” My voice was flat but tinged with my growing anger.
Barney took notice. The stick stilled and his eyes narrowed. A flash of gold swept over his deep brown irises. “What do I always want, Vander?”
“Money I don’t have,” I answered.
Barney smirked. “You know, sometimes I wonder if you’re as dumb as everyone thinks. Personally, I think you’re not a total idiot.”
I didn’t thank Barney for the backhanded compliment. “I don’t have much.” The sad fact was that I wasn’t even lying.
Barney held out his hand. “Give me what you’ve got. I’ll be the judge of what is or isn’t much.”
I wanted to slam the door in his face and tell Barney to go to hell. My apartment might not be much, but it was all I had, and rent was due soon. Barney was here to clean me out. By the time he was gone I wouldn’t even have enough cash to buy a taco.
“Stay there,” I ordered as I walked toward my kitchen. I kept my money—what little there was—in an empty whisky bottle. Barney’s eyebrows rose at my command, but he was polite enough to hang in the hall. He was here for money and if he didn’t have to bust my balls, then I got the feeling that was just fine with him.
I pulled out the wad of cash. Barney’s appearance was the reason I hadn’t been able to give the were-flamingo a refund. I needed every dollar I could scrounge up. My father had died worse than penniless. He owed shady characters like Arie Belview more than I’d be able to pay off in a lifetime. It was an unending battle with no light in sight.
Some days it didn’t seem worth it to go on, to keep trying.It would have been a lot easier to throw in the towel and give up. I hated to think about all the times I’d considered doing just that. I had no idea what kept me going, what made me get out of bed each and every morning.
Wad of cash in hand, I made my way back to the door and slapped it in Barney’s outstretched fingers.
“It’s all I’ve got.” I’d tried holding back before and it had taken me over a week to be able to get out of bed after the beatdown I’d gotten. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Barney meticulously counted out the cash while I waited to see if I’d close the door of my own volition or if I’d be knocked out on the floor by the time Barney left.
“Good news, Vander.” Barney’s grin held just a hint of sarcasm. “Looks like I don’t have to physically remind you about paying your debts.”
I wanted to scream that they weren’t my debts, but I’d already done that and knew my pleas fell of deaf—or maybe uncaring—ears.
“Take care, kid.” Barney tilted his head my direction before walking off. For someone so large, his footfalls barely whispered across the aged, piss-scented hall.
Unlike the were-flamingo, I didn’t peek out and watch Barney leave. I closed the door and leaned my forehead on its chipped surface. “I’ve gotta find a way to make more money,” I lamented to the empty room. Gaia knew I wouldn’t get far plying my questionable warlock wares. I needed to figure something else out and fast. Too bad everything that came to mind left me broken and bleeding in the end.
Georgiana
How were humans still alive?It was a question I’d pondered on more than one occasion. I rarely spent much mental energy on the thought. It was pointless. Somehow,they continued living despite all their attempts to the contrary. They were a fragile species. That fragileness filled my bank account and kept Brownies Bits and Boggles in the red.
“Does this truly work?” an older human gentleman asked as he held up a charm filled with apotencypotion. Brownies Bits and Boggles was also a consignment store, and the current charm he held was witch made.
“Of course it works,” I answered while trying to keep the offense out of my tone. “I do not sell poor merchandise.” I tried to remember that the human hadn’t meant to offend me. Humans were often skeptical. They probably had a right to be. It wasn’t like there was an oversight committee that regulated such things. One had to rely on the reputation of the maker, and I had an excellent reputation. Brownies didn’t lie. We didn’t cheat either. There was no need.
