I’m so lost in thought that I jump in fright when I hear my phone buzz across the counter. It’s the first chance I’ve had to charge it since I left Roxy’s.
I grab it, staring at the screen.
Unknown number: Are you struggling without me yet, baby girl?
Attached is a photo of me outside the church wall at dawn today, head tipped back, eyes closed, and mouth parted.
My hands go cold. The room tilts.
“You alright?” Kade asks, quiet, like he’s trying not to spook me.
“Yep,” I say, which is code for absolutely not. My thumb hovers over reply but lands on delete instead. The picturevanishes, yet it doesn’t. Not really. It sits heavy behind my eyes instead.
Colin. It could be anyone, I tell myself. Phones have cameras. People take pictures. Maybe it’s nothing. But he called me ‘baby girl’, and Colin is the only one who ever calls me that. I shudder.
“I just need five minutes,” I add, already reaching for my bag.
Kade doesn’t stop me, and he doesn’t follow either. He just says, “If the five turns into ten, text the hub phone so Lily doesn’t set the neighbourhood watch on you.” And he places a card with the phone number in my hand.
“Got it,” I lie, heading out.
The street feels different now. It’s the same cracked pavement and the same bus stop with the same advert for toothpaste, but everything is too bright, too loud.
I tuck my chin, pull my sleeves over my hands, and walk fast, heading nowhere in particular but needing to burn off this panic building in my chest.
Shadow’s number sits in my phone like a dare, and I take it from my pocket, staring at the black screen. I don’t need him.I don’t need him.I don’t. . . I type out a text, not because I need him, but being around him makes me feel safer. And I need that right now.
Me: Your President wants me on shift later. What time?
It’s not what I wanted to write. Christ, if only I could pour my problems onto someone else. Have another person tell me to calm the fuck down and not react to that piece of shit who probably wants me dead now he’s lost control of me.
It buzzes almost immediately, distracting me from the chaos in my brain.
Shadow: Do I look like I keep track of the rota? Have you eaten? Come now, the place is a shitpit. You can clean for an hour before shift.
Bossy. I’d be offended if my hands weren’t shaking and my heart wasn’t threatening to beat out my chest.
I call the hub phone next and tell Kade I have somewhere I need to be. He thanks me for my help and tells me to come back soon if I need a place. I’ve stayed in shelters before, and they’re full of addicts and pimps. Not the sort of place a lone female should be. I’d rather take my chances on the streets, but I don’t tell him that.
I’m halfway across the square when a car slows, pulling up beside the kerb. The passenger window hums down two inches. Enough for a voice to slide out.
“Remi.”
I don’t look, but I don’t run either. Running makes you prey. “Wrong girl,” I say to the road.
My words are met with a low chuckle. “Nah. Right girl.”
I keep walking, and the car matches my pace. “Your mum owed me.”
“My mum is dead,” I bite back, keeping my eyes fixed downwards.
“Funny thing about debt—it doesn’t die, it transfers, and Colin tells me you’re her next of kin.”
“Of course, he did. Did he tell you he’s in her flat, living on whatever savings she had, whatever payouts he could scrounge?”
“Darlin’, I don’t deal in family politics. I want what I’m owed, and I’ll take cash or . . .” That low chuckle hits my ears again, and I shudder. “I’ll text you where to meet for the exchange.”
I glance up now, but I’m not able to see his face through the darkened window. “I don’t have anything.”
