Page 20 of Brittle Heart

“What’s wrong, kid? What are you doing here already?” Howie asks, concerned.

I sit there, rocking back and forth, desperately tugging at my hair.

What the hell did I just do?

Yeah, I despised that job, but it paid decently, and the tips were usually good. Now that I’ve lost it, I don’t know how to make things work.

“I messed up,” I whisper.

“What happened?” Howie asks, his voice filled with gentleness. But I can’t stop rocking to form a reply. My head feels like it’s spinning out of control. “Kid,” he says softly, placing a hand on my back.

The gesture momentarily halts my rocking, and I look up at him. Howie and I have never touched each other before. We’ve always just sat side by side and talked.

Tears well up in my eyes. “I got fired.”

His gaze softens even more, and there’s so much compassion in his voice as he says my name. “Lina.”

A sob bursts out of me, and I start crying. I can’t remember the last time I cried in front of someone, maybe at my parents’ funeral. I usually don’t allow myself to break down while anyone can see. I never let my guard down completely. But now, here I am, sobbing because I lost a job that paid our rent, all because of a stupid slap on the ass and my big mouth.

Howie wraps an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close in a side hug. He leans his head against mine. “You’ll find another job, Lina. Nobody works as hard as you do. Everyone will want you, and you’ll have a new job in no time,” he assures me, swaying slowly from side to side as he comforts me.

“And what if I don’t?” I sniffle, trying hard to regain my composure.

“Then you’ll find another way. You’ve always found a way,” he says softly, gently stroking my upper arm.

I slowly pull away from the embrace, looking into his bright blue eyes that stand out in his dirty face. “I’m so sorry for breaking down on you.”

“You didn’t break down, kid. You just needed a moment. You grew up surrounded by emotional chaos, and you find comfort in the pain. This is just another rock on the road.” He nods at me, leaning back against the concrete wall.

“Thank you for being here for me,” I whisper, rising to my feet.

“You’re the closest thing to family for an old lost man like me. Of course, I’m here.” He huffs. “Now go home and get an extra hour of sleep. All this emotional stuff is making me tired.”

CHAPTERTEN

Carolina

The following day, it’s like I’ve been hit by a train. I didn’t get a wink of sleep, even though I had more than enough time to do so.

I’m in a state of panic.

Panicking about how the hell I’m going to manage to pay all our bills. I still have no idea how much the internship will pay me or if it will even be enough.

The year-end payments are looming over me, not to mention Christmas. Chiara needs a laptop for her classes, and I could use some warmer clothes. My old leather jacket isn’t cut out for winter.

Then there’s the tattoo appointment I’ve scheduled. I can’t and won’t cancel it now. I’m certain Xander has already worked on the sketch, and I’m not the kind of person to back out, especially when I want something. But my mind is swirling with worst-case scenarios.

Fortunately, Margaret made me a new badge yesterday, allowing me to enter the NYPD headquarters through the employee line, which is much quicker.

Confident I remember at least half the way to the lab, I hope for the best and head in what I think is the right direction. As I navigate the crowded space, a group of at least thirty police officers comes my way. I move closer to the wall to avoid walking through the middle of them.

However, Del Moro, who is part of the group along with his blond partner, spots me and loudly utters as they pass, “Fat bitch.”

I hold my head high, maintaining my impassive expression, and retort without breaking my stride, “Been called a lot worse by a lot better.”

I notice Josh is part of the group too, when he walks up beside me, looking concerned as he glances back and forth between the back of Del Moro’s head and me.

Clay, who is just behind Josh, grins at me. “Karen,” he says, mockingly tipping an imaginary hat to greet me.

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