Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 167671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 838(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 838(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
Thief.
I gulp.
I don’t want to hear his voice, but every time I turn, it’s like a silent whisper in the night. And the more I hear it, the more emboldened I get. With a scowl, I park my bike near the grocery store, grab a cart, and go inside.
With each step, the reality of what I did sinks in deeper, and I fish into my pocket and take out the money Silas threw on the floor in front of my face. This money … it’s tainted. It feels wrong to even touch it.
Like I’ve sold my body and turned myself into their whore.
Fuck those boys.
I rip open the fridge door and take out a big carton of milk. I grab eggs, bacon, pancake mix, syrup, and some Eggos. I pick out the freshest berries and head into the breakfast aisle, where I grasp the largest box of chocolate cereal I can find and dump it into the cart. Then I head to the register and pull out the bills Silas gave to me, slapping them on the counter along with two bags for carrying all this shit.
If I’m going to be someone’s whore, then I’ll eat to my heart’s content.
I go back outside and hang the bags on my steering wheel before I hop on and try to hold my balance while biking across the city. Finally, I get to my building, but first, I double-check my surroundings and wait a while to see if anyone has followed me here before I head inside.
The remaining bills crunch up in my palm as I struggle not to throw them into the bin in the hallway, but that would destroy the only remaining value of my sacrifice. So I hold it as tightly as I can, forcing myself to walk up to Mrs. Schwartz’s apartment, where I place down my bags so I can knock on the door.
She opens up, and the cat immediately runs out, purring, as she rolls around my legs, along with Cora, who hugs me tight. “You’re here!”
“She’s given me the runaround, Jesus.” Mrs. Schwartz rolls her eyes. “How much longer do I have to do the nights too? I can’t keep this up.” She moans and rubs her back.
“Please, can I sleep in our bed, Ivy? Please?” Cora begs, holding my legs like she’s afraid she’ll be sent back.
I really didn’t want to risk it, but her sweet little face beaming up at me makes it hard to say no. “All right.”
She squeals and hugs me even tighter.
Mrs. Schwartz holds out her hand without saying a word, and I place two of the bills on top.
“For the effort,” I say.
“Thanks.” She eyes me down like she thinks I’ve become a drug dealer. “Where’d you get all those hundreds?”
“Pole dancing.” I laugh it off.
“Hmpf.” She sticks up a cigarette. “Didn’t think you’d dance for them boys. Oh well. Guess these halls are full of freaks.”
She closes the door on us without saying another word, and I shrug at Cora, who seems awfully confused by her behavior. I’m just glad I have a decently reliable nanny.
“Let’s go home,” I say, picking her up in my arms and unlocking the door to our apartment.
Bagel dashes inside, searching for his favorite spot by the window.
“It’s so boring staying with Mrs. Schwartz. She doesn’t have a lot of toys and only wants to watch TV,” Cora says as I put her down on the couch. “But I do know how much all the jewelry costs from the sales channel now.”
I chuckle. “That will come in handy when we get rich.”
“Oh! Then we can finally get that chocolate cereal!”
I grin and pull up the bags of groceries, planting them firmly on the kitchen counter. “Don’t have to wait anymore …” Her eyes begin to glow like stars as I pull out the cereal she’s been dying to taste, and she jumps off and snatches it out of my hands, hugging it like it’s her world’s best friend. “Thank you!”
“Told you I’d get them.”
She runs to hug me next, nearly dropping the box.
“Promise is a promise,” I whisper, patting her back. “And look what else I got.”
I empty the bag on the counter, and my ears are blasted with a shriek. “Berries? Eggos? Omigod!”
“So …” I grab the pan and a spatula. “Who’s hungry for a late-night dinner with Eggos, pancakes, and cereal?”
She sticks up her little hand. “Me!”
Heath
“Why can’t we hang out at my place?” Mavis asks as we head up the stairs. She’s still nose-deep in one of those Wiccan books of hers. “I wanted you to listen to the new band I found. They’re amazing.”
“We always hang there,” I reply. “And you can play the same songs on my setup. Besides, I need to talk with Silas. Stay here.”
Mavis frowns, folding her arms as she leans back against a wall near the stairs. “I didn’t want to see his filthy room anyway.”