Page 20 of Pack of Crooks
“Everything okay?”
“Fine,” she mumbles.
I fight a scowl. I was a teenager not so long ago. I get the hormones and the bad moods for no apparent reason, but Lottie is usually peppy. When I’m grumpy, she’s sunshine. We head down the stairs, dodging drips of water. I wrinkle my nose at the overly strong musty smell.
Our landlord sucks. I should really think about finding a new place to live, somewhere without mold. Yeah, with what money, Hazel? A line forms between my eyebrows as I follow Lottie out of the lobby and into the overcast morning to make our trek to the subway station.
Fresh air would be far too generous of a word for what I breathe in. Exhaust tainted air fills my lungs. Lottie shoots me a nervous look and quickly glances away, but I caught it. “Okay, Lottie, what’s up?”
“Nothing,” she says softly enough that I have to strain over the sound of engines and dozens of people moving around us.
Lightly touching her shoulder, I stop walking and she turns to face me, eyes filled with an emotion I can’t discern. “Please don’t ice me out, okay? What’s wrong?”
Shooting her focus across the street, her eyebrows draw down. “The money for uniforms is due tomorrow.”
Oh. Shit. That’s right. I forgot with everything that happened with the pack last night. “I know,” I lie with a smile. I pull out my wallet. “Two hundred, right?”
“Three,” she says with a frown. “Three-fifty if I get the shoes to match. Everyone gets the shoes,” she says softly.
My gaze drifts to her sneakers and my stomach bottoms out. They’re not old. I stole them about a month ago, but apparently they’re not good enough for the cheer coach. Lottie’s beenthrough so much in her short life. I want her to have the best of everything. I swallow my worries, bury my fear about rent and food far into the back of my mind, making sure Lottie can’t see any of our struggle, and smile.
“Perfect. Three-fifty it is.” I discreetly count the bills, ignore the fear in the back of my mind, and hand it to her.
She still doesn’t look happy. Not even a twitch of a grin. Does she know this is all we have?
Someone bumps into my shoulder, forcing me toward her. “Hey, watch it, asshole!”
The guy with greasy brown hair whirls around. A vein pops out on his forehead and I catch the alpha mark on his wrist. “You’re the one standing in the way! Move your ass.” Some alphas can be real assholes.
“Don’t talk to my sister that way,” Lottie snaps at him.
“What did you say?” He moves toward her, and I push her behind my back, squaring up to the man.
“Keep walking,” I tell him, narrowing my eyes.
“You think you’re tough?” The guy surges toward me.
Lottie gasps.
My hand flies up, and I shove the base of my palm into his nose before he can do whatever he intended. While he howls, I grab Lottie and drag her toward the subway, weaving through the pedestrians until we’re far enough away that the tension in my shoulders eases.
Like me, she’s an omega, but she won’t have to worry about her heat until she’s twenty-one. By nature’s design, an omega’s first heat is during their twenty-first year, but as she continues to mature, her scent will get stronger. I have a hard time trusting people with my sister, let alone an alpha who might go into a rut simply from smelling her. “You shouldn’t yell at people,” I tell my sister. “Especially not an alpha you don’t know.”
She scoffs. “You do.”
“I know I do, but I’m not smart. You are.” Plus, she has promise. My future was stolen from me a long time ago. I’m pretty sure I’ll be pickpocketing for the rest of my life. And if that isn’t depressing, I don’t know what is.
Her features pinch. “You’re smart, Haze.”
Great. Now she pities me. “You know what I mean. I’m not exactly a good example. Promise me you won’t yell at random strangers on the sidewalk.”
“Fine.” Crossing her arms, she clenches her jaw as we head toward the stairs that lead down to the subway.
“Lottie,” I say softly. “Why are you mad at me?”
“I’m not mad,” she confesses, shooting me the same look from earlier, that emotion I couldn’t discern loud and clear now. Disappointment. “Just, do we even have the money for my uniform? What about food?”
“It’s fine. We have plenty of money.”
