Tank (Blue-Collar Billionaires 1)

It takes me about ten minutes to get home. There’s an open space right next to my motorcycle so I park and cut the engine. My breath forms white clouds in front of my face. Still I don’t move to get out yet. Once I’m inside, I’ll be alone with my thoughts again. So I sit in my car in the empty, dark parking lot, trying not to think about anything. Finally I push the door open and get out.

There’s no one to greet me when I enter my apartment. I live alone. No pets and I don’t even have any plants that need to be watered. That’s always been the way I liked it but things look different lately. My eyes fall on the letter on the counter. It’s still in the same place I left it before I went out tonight. I pick it up and read it again. It’s another letter from my father’s law firm. Another appeal for me to meet his terms. Another offer of money.

My life is a perfect storm lately, a confluence of every thing I fear the most all happening at once.

Two months ago my mom found out that her cancer is back but she just got around to telling me about it today. She told me that she needs surgery. Some rare, expensive surgery that insurance wouldn’t cover even if she’d had it. If that wasn’t bad enough, there’s the sudden reappearance of the father I haven’t seen since I was eigh

t. He’s supposedly seen the light and wants to establish a relationship with me and my younger brother, Finn. We were both offered huge sums of money if we agree to meet with him regularly. As long as the visits continue, the money will keep coming.

I turned down the first two offers immediately. But now I have a reason to negotiate. The money could help my mom so that’s reason enough to consider it. I work for a private security company and my boss has crazy connections. He recommended a lawyer so I’ve been meeting with him once a week. He’s trying to negotiate terms I can live with.

The terms I really want are for him to go back to whatever cave he’s been hiding in for the past twenty years. I don’t want to see him at all but for my mom, I’m willing to try. There’s not much else I can do for her now. I’m helpless and I hate that feeling.

I drop the letter. There’s a rust-colored smudge where my finger touched the white stationary. Blood. I hold up my hands, inspecting the damage. I cleaned the worst of it off with a wet wipe in my car but my hands are still filthy. I walk into my room and strip, dropping everything into a pile in the corner. I walk into the bathroom and turn on the water.

I step into the shower. Water rushes over me and then swirls in a dirty red-tinged pool around my feet. Thoughts of what I’m washing off threaten so I grab the bar of soap on the ledge and scrub all over.

The air in the bathroom is cold, sending a chill over my skin. I wrap the towel around my waist and then rub my hair with another one. I’m clean finally. Although I know the feeling won’t last. I can wash the outside but there’s nothing I can do for how I feel on the inside.

Some stains are permanent.

At least tomorrow I get to see her again. Everyone hates Mondays but lately they’re all that’s getting me through each week. Sleep, then I can see her. I comfort myself with the thought.

Tomorrow. Just get to tomorrow.

EMMA

I race around my room trying to figure out what I’m going to wear. I’m never a fashion plate but especially when I haven’t done laundry. The only clean clothes appear to be the ones I wear to wait tables at my second job. Nothing I wear there is appropriate for daylight hours. I toss aside a miniskirt and a glittery top. I need to find something respectable to wear in the next five minutes.

Rummaging through my closet produces a black skirt that’s only marginally creased and a striped button down shirt that I never wear because it’s too tight. A glance in the mirror on the back of the closet door proves what I already suspect to be true. I look like I’ve been digging around in trash bins for discarded clothes.

People are going to put change into my coffee cup if I go out looking like this.

I open the door and collide with my sister, Ivy. “Morning. Can I borrow something to wear?”

She eyes my striped shirt and then nods her head. “If that’s your alternative, then yes. Hold on.”

I follow her to her room but she holds up a hand. “Wait. I’m not alone. Jon stayed the night.”

Great. It’s a struggle to keep the annoyance off my face. Jon is a lawyer. We met him when he came to the law office where Ivy and I work on behalf of his client, Mr. Marshall.

How did I not hear them come in last night? I must have been dead to the world. Working two jobs has finally caught up with me. But if I’d known that he would be here, I would have gotten up early and left before now. Tired is better than annoyed and disgusted. I can’t say any of this to Ivy so I just settle for “Okay.”

The door to her room opens and Jon steps into the hall. His dark hair is rumpled and he’s got about three days’ worth of stubble going on. Ivy gazes up at him and if this were a cartoon, I’m sure there would be little animated stars dancing in her eyes.

“Morning baby.” She leans up to give him a kiss. He returns the caress, one hand snaking down to curve around her waist. As he does it, he holds my gaze the entire time.

I contemplate barfing right then and there.

“Never mind. I’ll just wear this. You’re still covering for me this morning right? I have my financial aid meeting at school.”

Ivy gives an exaggerated sigh. “I’ll be there. Calm down. I sincerely doubt Patrick cares who is up front answering phones as long as someone is there to do it.”

Ivy and I both work for Patrick Stevens, an old friend of the family. I work the front desk while she helps him part-time with bookkeeping and other administrative tasks. After our parents died, he was the one who helped us settle the estate. I’m not sure what we would have done without his help.

Actually I do know. We probably would have lost the house. After all the creditors were tallied and the life insurance was paid, there was nothing left. We were lucky to be able to stay in the house we grew up in at all.

I don’t agree with her assumption that he won’t care who’s up front but I don’t have time to argue. The finance office at the local college only accepts appointments at certain times. A year ago, I was in school studying biology. I was planning to go to veterinary school after I finished my undergraduate degree. After our parents were killed, I was too unfocused to continue. Tears still threaten when I think about that day. I blow out a breath and push the ugly memories away.