Page 6 of Pregnant Bratva Wife
But how could I call when I had no money to offer? It seemed better, I thought, to wait for him to call. To let him know I was serious about repaying him. And maybe, if I’m lucky, I’d have some money to back my words up by then. Back to job hunting it was.
***
“We’ll be in touch.”
The café manager’s voice had that telltale flatness that meant I’d never hear from her again. I’d been through enough interviews to recognize rejection.
“Thank you for your time,” I said, trying to smile but wanting to cry.
I stepped out of the café, and tears sprang to my eyes. That was the second interview I’d landed this week, and I’d struck out again.
Apparently, my years of office administrative experience didn’t qualify me to buss tables or pour wine. Who knew?
My phone rang. For a heart-stopping moment, as always, I thought it might be Federico. But it was just a text from Chloe.
Chloe:How’d it go?
I typed back:About as well as the Titanic’s maiden voyage.
Her response was immediate:Their loss. Come home. I made brownies.
Instead of feeling relieved, I felt guilty. God bless Chloe for being the best support system I could have asked for. But I knew that each day I stayed, it only put more stress on her. She was cooking for two, yet never asked for grocery money. Her boyfriend was getting pissed whenever he dropped by, hinting at when I might leave.
Things would work out. They had to. I just needed one break, one yes.
***
Later, after dinner, I sat on Chloe’s couch and made a list of bills I couldn’t pay and apartment listings I couldn’t afford. My phone bill was due. So was health insurance. Car insurance. The next installment on mom’s loan.Fuck.
Just then, Megan called. I put aside the list, forced myself to sound cheery when I picked up. My little sister didn’t need to know how badly I was struggling. She had enough on her plate.
“Hey, Megs! How’s campus life treating you?”
Instead of her usual bubbly greeting, her breathing was shaky. “Autumn?” Her voice was small, fragile. “Is this a good time to talk?”
I sat up straight, my heart instantly hammering. “What is it? Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m not hurt, but—” She broke off into a sob. “Someone broke into my dorm room. They took the money.”
The money.
My brain took a moment to catch up, and then ice flooded my veins. The loan payment money. The five thousand dollars I’d been scraping together for months to pay off another chunk of our mother’s gambling debts to those Boston loan sharks.
“All of it?” I whispered.
“Yes,” Megan’s voice cracked. “I’m so sorry, Autumn. I had it hidden in my desk drawer, and I was going to drop it off tomorrow like we planned, but when I came back from class—”
“It’s not your fault,” I cut in, even as panic rose in my throat. “Did you report it to campus security?”
“Of course, but they can’t do anything. I shouldn’t have had that much cash in my room to begin with.” She sounded harrowed, guilty.
“Autumn, I called Igor Petrov to explain what happened and ask for more time, but he said the deadline doesn’t change. If we don’t pay by Friday, the interest doubles. And he knows where I live. He said they’ve been watching me.”
My blood ran cold. Igor Petrov was our mother’s primary loan shark, a man who’d been bleeding us dry since her death two years ago. He’d agreed to leave Megan alone as long as I kept making payments, but if we missed one...
“Has he threatened you?” I asked sharply.
“Not exactly, but his guys were waiting outside my dorm yesterday. One of them said they could get me a job at a club that pays really well…” Her voice weakened, terrified.
