I don’t crave power. I crave stability. Business. Real estate. A clean ledger and bigger numbers at the bottom of the page. I want money without blood on it.
I’m not psychotic like Vince.
Not reckless like Alex.
Not cruel like my father.
Every day, I get closer to deciding to run.
It’s really late. Or, I suppose, really early, depending on which way you look at it. Either way, I can hardly keep my eyes open anymore.
Rylee and Makayla are still entirely into this reality show binge-fest.
“I’m going to bed,” I announce, forcing myself up from my comfy spot on the hideous couch.
“Night, night, bookworm,” they say without looking at me.
I grab my bag and trudge to my tiny square room with scratched hardwood floors, crappy plastic blinds, and a single bed shoved into the corner. Clothes, books, and random crap litter the floor and the dresser.
Classic college chaos.
And it’s nothing like the room I grew up in—enormous, ornate, four-poster bed, walk-in closet, ensuite bathroom with a clawfoot tub big enough to bathe a miniature horse.
Over-the-top.
Excessive.
Completely ridiculous.
I pull the envelope from my bag and drop the cash into the shoebox I keep stashed in the back of my closet.
Two thousand dollars just for letting a hot guy finger me to climax.
I blink. Twice. No, seriously, this is real.
I haven’t had much of my own money—just a high school ice cream job, minimum wage plus tips, maybe a thousand saved over three long, sweaty summers.
And here I am, two grand in one night.
The second night? Four grand in my pocket.
It boggles my mind.
If I keep this up once a week until graduation, I could vanish.
False identity.
Plane ticket.
New apartment.
A life somewhere far from my family’s expectations.
The plan begins to unfold. I know a guy who can discreetly provide me with a new identity. He’s money-motivated, so a bonus should keep him quiet. However, the documents must be flawless, including flight bookings, TSA checks, and police clearances, all of which must be convincing and accurate.
And it won’t be cheap. It’s not an option to dip into my family accounts. That much money moving would raise flags with their accountants.
I plan to meet with my contact soon to discuss the costs and timing. Then I’ll know how many more dances I need to have enough that I can afford a flight, a starter apartment, and a real escape.
