Page 76 of Pretty Broken Wings
In the morning, I pack some clothes into a bag, as well as some toiletries. I don’t have much, but I fit what little I can into the trunk of my car. I also grab the few books I have, including my favorite from the nightstand.
Then, when I feel armed with my life packed up into the small trunk of my car, I do what I’m absolutely dreading, and I drive on fumes back to Gage’s house.
Marching up to the front door, I try not to think about what I’m doing. I’m getting the money I deserve, and then I’ll disappear. I’ll disappear and never let another human into my life.
The door opens, and suddenly, Buddy is there with wet sniffles and excited whines. Gage is there, too, standing in the doorway with lines around his eyes.
“I came for my money.” I cross my arms against the cold.
Gage just nods once, then steps back.
I frown. I expected more of a fight. Is he just going to… agree?
It’s freezing, but I won’t go inside. Buddy jumps up and down, crushing my toes and licking my hands, which just makes them colder.
Suddenly, Gage is back, and he’s also stepping outside.
“What the–”
“Lead the way.” Gage motions at the house, where I see the garage door opening.
“I came for the money,” I grit. Here’s the catch. Here’s where he doesn’t work with me.
“I know. I have to go to the bank.” Gage grabs Buddy, trying to shove her back inside. She whines and scrambles to get out of his grip, but he closes her inside with a click.
“The car is out of gas.”
Gage just steps off the porch and moves slowly across the grass, disappearing into the garage. He comes back out with a gas tank.
This motherfucker.
I trot up to him. “You said you’d pay me.”
“I don’t know how much cash you carry around in your pockets, princess.” Gage tops off the gas tank, then moves to the passenger side. “But I keep mine in the bank.” He slides inside the car.
I seethe for a second, then tell myself I just need to do this one thing. I’ll get my money, and then I’ll go. I can spare an hour.
I slide into the driver’s side, eyeballing Gage. He just looks straight ahead. He has the boxy glasses on—the old ones.
Fine. The quieter, the better.
Once again, I jerk the car into gear and floor it out of the driveway. Gage grabs for the oh-shit handle but otherwise says nothing.
Once we get to town, Gage directs me to the bank he uses. For a minute, I freak out, wondering where exactly he’s telling me to go. But I see a real bank, and he directs me to stop and goes inside. I’m left sitting in the car, ready to scream. Ready to drive off without him.
But I don’t. I wait for the money, glaring at Gage as he comes back out of the building, holding the door for an older lady going inside. He flashes her a handsome smile, which makes me seethe.
Gage gets back in the car, his weight making it bounce, then shoves an envelope in my hands.
I grasp it, realizing it feels a little thin. Opening it, I thumb through the cash.
“I can only get so much out at a time.”
This isn’t the amount he promised. It’s not anywhere close. I feel the panic starting to rise. “But you said–”
“And then you ran. The new deal is you stay and help me until my glasses come in, and every day, I’ll pay you as much as the bank will let me take out.”
There’s a moment of blankness as I try to process what he just said.
