Own My Soul (Sixty Days 3)

“You really think he doesn’t give a shit?” I asked. “You think he doesn’t give a shit for any of us?”

Her nod was clear. “I think you’re likely here because he doesn’t. Because he couldn’t be bothered to sort you out anymore. He probably palmed you off without a care, just as I ended up here on the back of a load of dramatic crap. He’s probably lapping up the peace somewhere with a cold beer on the beachfront and a fresh load of girls’ applications on his mobile.”

The thought of him scoping out other applications was enough to turn my stomach. She laughed when she saw my expression.

“Shit, you really are hung up on him.”

I nodded. “Serves me right for being a naive idiot going into all this, doesn’t it? If he’s like that, he’s like that. I could’ve been more sensible. Earned my payments in the professional way and not been such a moron asking for so much more…”

Her hand squeezed mine on the sill. “You learn. We all do. You’ll toughen up and live your life with a shit ton more badass about you.”

I wish I wanted it. More badass. I wish I wanted to be tougher, and more detached, and calculated. I wish I wanted to continue my road of caring hard for my sister and little else around her. I wish I wanted to be free of the feelings I had for a man like the one who’d strung me out to dry in some sicko partner’s mansion.

That’s when it found me. The first real flame of anger.

He could’ve told me, to my face. Could’ve told me that he was sending me on to tougher times on the same contract. That Rebecca would likely be here and be able to see through my attachments and palm them off as crazy in a heartbeat.

Was he laughing somewhere? Laughing that I’d believed him about rescuing Phoebe? Laughing that a girl like me could have ever believed there was something between us?

“Stop,” Rebecca said again. “You’re stewing over stuff there’s no point stewing over. Here there’s only us and the money we’re supposed to be earning. That’s all. That’s all there is to keep going through the days for.”

I shifted to meet her eyes. “You think this is it? Another business venture like the one seemed to be down south?”

Her nod was weak. “I gotta think that, right? That’s all there is to think, unless you want to freak out like a crazy and try some stupid escape plan. Yeah, it may be rough, but it will pay well. It always does.”

Looking at the catches and clasps on the secure windows made it clear that any attempt at escape wouldn’t be easy.

“He seems professional enough, even if he is shit scary,” Rebecca said. “The partner up here, I mean. He says I have to prove my desire to earn a proper pay out and be able to live quietly with the last one to get my money back.”

“And you think that’s it? That you’ll prove it through another round of earnings and they’ll let you go with a whole load more money to your name?”

“That’s what happened to me first time round,” she said. “I did what was demanded for sixty days and he let me go on the beach that night with every single penny he’d promised. Hopefully this is just the same up here. I mean they’re partners, right?”

I weighed it up as I stared back outside. I took in the frost and the sun and the brand new surroundings, and hated the burn of anger and upset in my gut, and I weighed it up.

She had a point.

Business partners who’d paid her what they’d promised and granted her freedom until she’d been rattling her mouth around campus. Maybe this really was the same set up at a different venue.

“Honestly,” she said. “Forget him. This guy might well turn out to be better, at least he hasn’t made me feel like he’s the greatest gift in the entire universe and existing without him will be living on shit street. Not yet anyway.”

I managed a nod. “You think that’s what we should do? Stay strong together and work to finish up our contracts? Have you even signed a new one yet?”

“I’ve agreed a new one in theory. Done some parading like I said.”

“And you’d be happy with it, if it really was a new contract like that?”

Her shrug was fierce. “Hell knows, but I might as well try it out and hope for a big pay day. What other options are there?”

I shrugged right back. “Say we cancel? Say we don’t want another single part of it?”

“And forfeit a shit ton of cash in the process?” she countered. “Go for it, if you want, but I like being able to live my life without the financial crap that used to go along with it. Low paid jobs and trouble spending and paying bills every month. Living on a budget every hour of the day. No thanks. I’m all for myself. I want the power back in my own hands.”