If I can get him to invest in She’s the One, I’ll get to set him and his team up with access to our computer system. Which will really provide me with a backdoor channel to his network and, I hope, his files.
A win-win. Funding for my most important SynthoTech project and fodder to take down one of the biggest pieces of scum on the planet.
I fully intend to break that dainty, sculpted little nose again, this time not via some overpriced plastic surgeon but with my fist.
But first, as with all things, patience.
Sixteen
Josie
“And now that my first paycheck just hit my account, I can finally say it—I’m moving out!” I announce, doing a little happy dance with my shoulders. But Mom and Alan just stare at me, stone-faced, across the kitchen table. Not exactly the reaction I was expecting. “This is good news, folks! This is what you wanted?”
I don’t know why I phrase it like a question. They’ve beensuperclear about wanting to turn my little garage apartment into an Airbnb for extra cash. Which is fair. I’ve been mooching for way too long.
The microwave pings, and, as if awoken by a trance, Alan stands up. “Who’s up for chili-cheese waffles?”
“No, thanks,” Mom and I say at the same time.
“More for me,” he grunts, which I think might be his love language. Not chili-cheese waffles, of course, but grunting. Both Mom and I are words-of-affirmation people, so it seems strange that she ended up with someone so uncommunicative.
“I don’t understand, Josephine,” says Mom, which is what she says when she fully understands something but doesn’t like it.
“Mom, you’ve been hinting formonthsthat you wanted me out of the guesthouse! I thought you’d be thrilled to finally rent it outfor real money. You could use that cash to pay off the new dishwasher or these kitchen chairs you just bought…and whatever else is on your list,” I say.
“But we’re doing the fundraiser!” she says, her lips pressed so tightly they’ve disappeared, and I feel something ignite inside me. Like one of those feverish nights in the hospital, when my temp was 104 and I was begging for blankets, sure I’d never feel warm again.
The memory slams fiercely, dragging up that old helplessness.
I try to shake it off, but it grips me like a fucking vise. Anger burns too hot in my chest. Rage at this memory, at them, at everything that kept me trapped in that bed, shivering, while they looked on like my life was some kind of tear-jerking Netflix drama.
“Nope. I returned all the payments and took it down. I don’t want to take fundraising money that I don’t need. Sorry, Mommy.” I can hear my voice turning little-girlish, and I hate it. “It was the first thing I did when I got paid.”
Actually, it was the second thing I did. As soon as Axe’s signing bonus hit my account yesterday, I went apartment hunting. Found a studio perfectly equidistant between Grace & Honor and SynthoTech and just ten minutes from Golden Leaves, where Nonna lives. I took it on the spot—it’s basically a shoebox with a corner kitchen that fits a bed, a love seat, andmaybea tiny desk if I’m lucky.
But like Nonna always said,The bigger the house, the smaller the home.
Which means this place is gonna beallhome. I don’t need a lot of stuff. Fairy lights, some framed photos of me and Nonna, a dash of sparkle, and it’ll feel like mine in no time. The best part, Mom and Alan don’t know about it. I plan to keep my new address on the down-low for as long as possible.
I need some breathing room from them.
Mom’s face reddens as her eyes narrow. “How could you do that without telling us? We’ve been working so hard on updates!”
Alan steps back into the conversation, clutching his Yuengling plus a plate of chili-cheese waffles, while their cat, Buster, follows behind him, hoping for dropped scraps. When Alan’s angry—and he looks pretty angry now—his whole face darkens so that I can see every splintering capillary vein like a road map to nowhere across his face.
“You’re always so ungrateful, you know that, Josie? After everything we’ve done for you, you go behind our backs like this,” he says.
“You won’t have to do anything for me anymore. That’s the whole point,” I say. The smell of Alan’s food hits me like a brick, and I try not to gag. Why is he always snarfing down the rankest stuff—tuna casseroles, blue cheese toasties, salmon steaks? At least he’s talking in whole sentences for once, since his preferred language is caveman. Like right now, when he pauses his berating of me and looks at my mother and grunts, “Salt.”
“Sure thing, honey,” she says.
No wonder I got engaged to Bryan. This is the blueprint I had for marriage.
“I’m collecting my things. I’ll be packed and out in a couple of hours,” I say.
Mom’s eyes well up immediately, while Alan looks like he’s about to pop a vein.
“You’re leaving ustoday?” Mom asks, and her voice is dangerously quiet. She blinks a few times, her fake lashes catching her tears. “This is how you repay me?”
