Page 2 of Cruel Bratva King

I reluctantly sauntered into the living room, wishing I could be anywhere but here. My apartment wasn’t big, but it was decent. I’d repainted the walls and changed the décor after my break-up with Derrick because I wanted to get rid of whatever memories of him remained here.

Derrick had decorated the whole house with black and orange. I had found the color scheme too tacky, but I had let him have his way. After he moved out, I changed the décor to a bright pink and white. It had felt cozy and comfortable for a while before the heartbreak sank in.

But then, I had Lila with me, at the least. Now, I had no one.

I took my phone out from my bag before throwing it onto one of the pink-furred cushions in the living room and dialed Derrick’s number.

“Hi, babe,” he said as he answered. “I wasn’t expecting a call from you this soon. Missing me already? Too bad you kicked me out just because I had fun for one night.”

Disgust crept to my throat at the fact that he called mebabe.I was even more disgusted that he wanted to brush off getting another girl pregnant as if it were nothing. He’d tried to gaslight me into forgiving him when I found out, but I wasn’t having any of it.“Getting a girl pregnant isn’t exactly just fun, you asshole.”

“It was a mistake.”

“I don’t care.” I strolled to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. “I got a notice to vacate the apartment, Derrick .”

He was silent.

“Derrick?”

“I’m here,” he said, his voice low. “What would you have me do? I don’t have money to give you.”

“Not that, asshole. I don’t give a shit about your money,” I said. “What I give a shit about is my money. I paid the rent into your account. How is it possible that I’m four months behind?”

He cleared his throat. “I—uh,” he stuttered. “The thing is, Milla needed money for some baby stuff, and I…”

“You used my money to buy baby stuff?” My blood was boiling, my chest heaving in and out with raw fury.

“I thought I could get a job to pay you back, but.”

“But what?” As if cheating on me and getting another girl wasn’t enough, he’d used my fucking rent to fund his unborn child. I laced my fingers into my hair, almost clawing out my scalp. “I’m giving you only a week, Derrick. Pay back every penny you owe me, or I’ll find you and squeeze the life out of you.”

I hung up, tossed my phone on the island, and allowed my head to fall between my shoulders. A wave of anger and sadness gripped me. Just when I thought today couldn’t get any worse than it already was, it did. In addition to losing my cat and being jobless, I was faced with the terrifying possibility of being homeless.

With how terrible today was going, I’d be surprised if I didn’t end up losing a leg or an arm before the day ended, truly.

Uncapping my water bottle, I gulped the whole thing down in one drink. I was thirsty as fuck, but it wasn’t until the bottle was empty that I realized I wasn’t thirsty for water. I was thirsty for a drink, something hot and bitter enough to numb the ache in my chest.

My phone buzzed from where I’d tossed it on the counter, I glanced at it, and my best friend’s name, Eva, flickered on the screen as it rang. I picked my phone up and answered.

“Hey.”

“Hey, girlfriend,” she replied. “Are you home?”

“Yeah, I’m home.”

“Is everything alright?” she asked, her voice low with concern.

I sighed. I was anything but alright. “I’m not,” I admitted. “My cat died this morning, I lost my job, and I’m about to be thrown out of my apartment.”

“Are you kidding?”

“I wish I was, Eva.”

“Wait, I’m coming over.”

She was here twenty minutes later, holding a bottle of tequila and two glasses. “You look fucked,” was the first thing she said when I opened the door to let her in.

“Thank you.” I closed the door behind her, and we went to the living room.

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