Dirty Dealers
Page 9
Tears flood my eyes, and all the dread is pushed aside by the warmth of Logan’s words. Holding the phone against my chest, I breathe…
Inhale…
Exhale…
Calm my galloping heart.
Oh, Logan, what am I going to do? If only you could help me.
I text him my address and fight every urge in my body to say more, to ask him to come here, hold me through this misery. It’s so wrong of me to want him this much, but there’s no way in hell I could ever tell him no.
My phone buzzes again, and joy sizzles in my veins. I want all his words, precious words, and I lift the phone quickly to see what he’s said. It all comes crashing down, when I see it’s what I originally dreaded. It’s Blix.
Good work tonight.
It’s all he says. I don’t even respond. I reach out and put my phone back on the nightstand and curl around the pillow again. For a little while I’d been able to let Logan take me away from my reality. Now I can only hold the pillow closer against the empty hole that used to be my heart.
* * *
Two clicks. “A bench,” I say. My little brother pulls my arm, and I stop short. “Lamp post.”
“Impossible!” he cries, and I start to laugh.
“I told you, it works!”
A skinny arm flops around my neck, and I loop my arms around his waist. Cameron is sixteen, but he’ll still let me hug him.
“Why do you have to go back to Miami?” he complains. “Stay here with me this time.”
“And do what?” I cry. “You have to go to school, and I have to earn the money to pay for it.”
“I don’t have to go to such an expensive school.”
It’s not an argument I intend to have with him again. “It’s a place for you to live…” He tries to interrupt, but I push on. “And they have classes you need. I won’t have you stuck in a cheap school living in public housing.”
“But if I didn’t go to such an expensive school, you wouldn’t have to work so hard, and I could live with you.”
The tone in his voice makes my heart ache. He’s lost so much family, and I know family is as important to him as it is to me. Still, I could never make the money here I make in Miami… And he has no idea why I have to go back, the debts I owe. I keep that part far from him.
“Then you’d get sick of me,” I tease, scrubbing my fingers through his light brown hair.
“I’d never do that.” His voice is quiet, and I pull him into a real hug…
Not much has changed in six years.
“Come on, Kass! Tell me why you can’t go!” Cameron holds my arm, and I smile at his persistence. That sixteen year old peeks out less and less these days.
“I have other plans tonight.” I reach out and tug a handful of his long, thick hair. “And you need a haircut.”
“Fuck that!” he teasingly slaps my hand away. “Chicks love my hair.”
“How are you ever going to get a real job like this? You look like a pot head.”
“How would you know?”
“Trust me,” I say bitterly. “I know.”
It’s been six months since I’ve seen my little brother, and he’s gotten even taller. He’s as free-spirited as any other young man his age, and his hair hangs past his jawline.