Blood Bound - Page 40

The violence outside makes me even more worried about the choice I have to make. This city is so filled with death, how could I possibly justify bringing a little life into it all? I might not even be able to afford to renew my lease next month.

A homeless single mother? I sneer at the thought of becoming a statistic.

I try to hold onto that feeling. If there’s one thing that can keep me from falling off life’s edge, it’s anger. I can use anger. Controlled rage is the best fuel for determination, and right now I need all the determination I can get.

My eyelids flutter and my feet ache as I shuffle from the bathroom towards my bedroom.

Wait, no scratch that, I think, trying to control the fire growing inside of me. Right now, what I really need is some sleep. I’m not coming up with any solutions in this state of mind. I’m exhausted, both physically, mentally and emotionally. There’s only one way out of this mess, and it’s by getting through the night first. For now, I still have a job, I still have a roof over my head, I still have a friend in Carlos.

I sit down on my creaky mattress and my bed moves just enough to shake my rickety bedside table. It droops forward on its wobbly leg, ever so slightly, and the bottom drawer opens halfway up. A book slides out of the way and, under my table lamp, I can see the shimmer of something I’ve been trying to forget—I still have that goddamn silver bracelet.

Hadn’t that beast who’d given it to me once suggested I pawn it off for money? I wonder how much it’s actually worth? Maybe enough to pay my first and last months rent? Maybe enough to stop having to worry about a baby...?

Sleep, Nia. You need sleep, not more questions.

I try to listen to the only rational voice still left in my head as I hug my pillow and try to will myself to sleep. Just make it to tomorrow. You only have to make it to tomorrow.

“Where’d you get this?” the grizzled pawn shop clerk’s voice is deep and heavy with an accent.

I pretend to be some bad bitch. “Does it matter?” I shrug. Maybe if this guy thinks I know what I’m doing, he’ll give me a better deal. I’ve never pawned off jewelry before, mostly because I’ve never had anything worth pawning off.

I only came to this shop because Carlos had told me that they wouldn’t care if my shit had been gotten through illegal means. I don’t know if my bracelet was stolen or not, but I can guess. Who keeps jewelry they bought in the back seat of their jeep? I should have never taken the bracelet in the first place, but since I did, I might as well make some money off of it.

The big, completely bald clerk studies my bracelet with suspicion. I try not to let on how nervous I am. I would have gone to another pawn shop in a less shady part of town if I thought I could get away with it for sure, but there was no way I was willing to risk getting caught up in a police report if the owner decided to flag me or my wares.

I’m expecting a child, after all.

I have three days left before I have to renew my lease or get kicked out onto the street. There’s no way I’m allowing that to happen without exhausting every option first. Even with the tips I’m making at Mars, I don’t have enough for the new price of rent in my building. The city’s still on fire, and everyone wants to be where it’s safe. Right now, my block seems like one of the very few neighbourhoods in the not-so-nice parts of town where a normal person might be able to survive. Every working-class family and below is dying to get where I am.

It had felt like a blessing at first, but it didn’t take long for life to bitch slap some sense into me. First and last month’s rent for my new lease is due soon, and I don’t have it.

What I do have, is this shiny bracelet from a bastard I’ve been trying to forget. What better way to forget him than to get rid the only thing that he left behind?

Well, not the only thing...

I’ve decided I’m not getting rid of the other thing. I made a choice, and I’m going to see it through. I have no idea how much this bracelet will bring, but if Ronan was worth a damn thing, it will be enough to pay my rent and maybe even get back into nursing school.

I flinch when I think of his name. He’s no man and he doesn’t deserve to have a man’s name. Only a beast would abandon me like he did. Only a beast would never let me know why.

It sucks that the best I can hope for is that he was killed. I don’t know that my pride could survive anything else. I thought we’d had a deep connection, but it obviously wasn’t strong enough to keep him around.

Instead, he made me just another statistic. I can never forgive him for that.

“How much can I get for it?” I ask the clerk. He has a cleanly shaven head and a wrinkly face; his t-shirt is stained and ratty, but he’s wearing a gold watch that’s glaring under the flickering fluorescent lights of the shabby shop.

The little strip mall that the shop’s in isn’t too far from my apartment, and it seems to have been spared so far from the violence outside. I figure either this place has a fortune hidden somewhere in a safe in the basement, or nothing more than cobwebs. There’s no in-between. I’m hoping for the former. I need a good payout.

By some miracle, my nursing school debt has been paid off. I don’t know if it was a mistake, or maybe an initiative by the city to get more nurses into the hospitals to deal with the current bloodshed, or whatever, but the last letter I got from the Medlink School of Nursing wasn’t a bill, but rather a message of congratulations for paying off my outstanding debt, as well as an official offer welcoming me back for another semester, provided I can afford the tuition.

I tried scouring the internet for more information on the matter, but I couldn’t come up with anything. If I was braver, I’d ask MedLink themselves, but I’m way too scared that they’ll realize they’ve made a mistake and plunge me back into debt.

If I can just get one good payout, I may be able to propel myself out of poverty once and for all and finally make something of myself. This bracelet is my only hope. I need it to be worth more than the man who gave it to me.

“Depends on where you got it,” grumbles the pawn shop clerk.

My gut stirs. “I didn’t come here to give my life story,” I bluff. “I came here because I was told you wouldn’t care.”

The big clerk barely reacts to my lashes. For some reason, he finds both me and my bracelet very interesting.

Tags: Sasha Leone Crime
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