Page 55 of Pack of Crooks
She leans back, narrows her eyes, and slaps me so hard my head whips to the side.
Copper floods my mouth, like it had that night, only this time, it’s from me biting my cheeks to suppress every emotion I’ve buried deep, but it doesn’t work. The phantom sting of Mom’s palm on my cheek aches, and I can practically hear her taunting me.
Calling me a worthless piece of shit. Telling me to go sit in that alpha’s lap so we could eat. Flashes of hands roaming where they shouldn’t tear the breath from my body.
“Look at you,” Mom hisses. “Just like Mommy.”
As my chest rips open, lack of oxygen eviscerates my lungs, and I sink to my knees. Every single muscle in my shoulders and neck tightens. Anger collides with fear, shoots up from my gut, burns my throat. I clutch the crumpled paper, bring my hand to my mouth, and smother a scream. It wrenches my energy and I drop my palms to the floor, rest my head on top, and try to breathe because it feels like my lungs are collapsing, the world caving in on top of me and I’m fucking hopeless to stop it.
I get up sometime later, scrub my hands over my face, and climb to my feet. Maybe Mom was right. Maybe I am no better than her. A loser. Irresponsible. Unworthy. Those words are definitely starting to feel true, but right now, I don’t have time to think about myself, to be sad or emotional. Right now, all I can do is find a solution. The last thing I can afford to do is fall apart.
Lottie depends on me.
We’re going to lose our apartment, and I need somewhere for us to land before her social worker checks in. Apparently even CPS thinks I’m going to fail and decided to put me on the watch list.
This is so fucked.
With my jaw clenched so tight that the back of my skull starts to ache, I grab my laptop—a stolen goody from the tech store—and filter through for rent sites. Okay. Two bedrooms. Close to Lottie’s school and a store. Recently remodeled. . . five fucking thousand dollars?!
“So that’s a no,” I mumble, navigating to the next listing. It sounds promising as well, but the monthly cost is astronomical, twice as much as what Roger charges, but they probably don’t have a leaking stairwell. The more I look, the more hopeless the situation seems.
Even the shitty, outdated and probably smelly one bedrooms are more expensive than this place, and there’s no way I can get the deposit scraped together in time. I keep looking until my eyes burn and every last drop of hope drains away. With a growl, I slam the laptop closed, chewing on my nail as I try to figure out what to do.
Maybe Milly?
I grab my phone, eyes widening at the time, and curse under my breath. I’m late for the meeting with Resistentia. Goddammit, Hazel! This is the golden ticket, don’t fuck it up. That money is Lottie’s future.
Realizing that pissing off Pack Lennox is to my detriment gets my blood pumping. I rush into the bedroom, grab a pair of shorts and a top, rip off the business wear, tug the clothes on and narrowly avoid toppling over in my haste. I push my feet into my boots and snatch my bag with the mask before rushing out of the apartment.
I try to shut off the part of my mind that’s a vortex of uncertainty and fear. One day at a time. One breath at a time. That’s all I can do. We can crash at Milly’s. Find a place that’s better than Roger’s. It’ll be fine. It has to be fine.
The subway ride is a blur, and the dark trek to the hub in the ungodly humidity even late at night has perspiration coveringevery inch of my body. I half expect the passcode I was given to be denied when I enter it, but the keypad flashes green and the door unlocks. Maybe no one will notice I’m late. That fleeting moment of hope is all I have.
Everyone is gathered at the break area watching something on the TV, and every single mask turns in my direction as I enter. My heart jumps into my throat. I’m tempted to turn right back around.Don’t be a chicken shit. With my pulse racing, I straighten my shoulders and head over to the group, grateful for the bunny mask hiding my features. The glowing purge masks track me as I get closer and take a seat beside Bubblepop.
Today, they’re back to wearing the colors I met them in. Red for Wolf. Green for Hawk. Blue for Bear. Killian, Ezra, and Maddox all study me through their masks. Waiting for an explanation.
“Sorry I’m late,” I say quickly.
“We’ll talk later,” Hawk says, focusing on the TV as does everyone else.
I follow suit, forehead scrunching as the news anchor asks an analyst about the volatility of the stock market. Why are we watching this? For ten minutes we watch the team analyze the downfall of a fairly big company: Legitech. Failing infrastructure and data warehouses. Years of intentional network throttling to force customers to pay for better internet speed even though they didn’t need it. A rumored over inflation of assets. The final straw being the massive leak of proprietary information.
That’s what Bubblepop was working on the other day after she helped me with my resume.
Wolf turns off the TV.
“Telecoms?” Cyanide asks.
Wolf nods. “Legitech was a subsidiary of Kain Industries. The President of the company was accused of multiple instances of assault by his employees. Not to mention, they were sharingalluser data with the rest of Kain Industries subs. Legitech was a ticking time bomb. All we did was speed up the clock and now, Tristan will be hurting. Komlast will have to build up the capability to support the increased traffic and it will impact Kain Industries stocks, enough that Resistentia can buy some. Any questions?”
Everyone shakes their heads, but I’m wondering why they want the stock. I still don’t understand what’s driving this vigilante group. Voicing the question doesn’t feel right with me being late. Besides, I don’t feel sorry for Legitech, especially if it means protecting people’s information. I’m tired of companies abusing their customers.
“Good. Then let’s get to work.”
The group breaks apart. I grab my bag and head to my desk as the steady rhythm of clacking of keys fills the space. I make it halfway there before a throat clears, a voice changer giving it hints of a growl. My stomach flips. Slowly, I glance over my shoulder.
Pack Lennox is standing in front of their office, glowing X eyes focused on me. I can’t actually tell what any of their faces look like, but I’m betting it’s not a happy one by the way everyone’s typing slows.
