Tony rolls his eyes. “I’ll get you to Sable.”
“What about you?”
Huffing, his head drops back, and he glares at the ceiling. “You’re going to make this a thing.” He lowers his gaze to me then advances until we’re nose to nose. “Let me worry about my own safety. The longer we stand here discussing my sacrifice, the longer the big dog has Sable. So shut the fuck up and walk.”
Tony turns and storms away. It takes me a long second, a hesitant moment of wondering why I’ve loathed his friendship for years when he’s risking everything just to get Sable back for me.
I want to thank him, but all I can do is snap out of it and try to catch up to him.
He’s too fast, and I struggle to keep up, my human legs failing me.
Tony turns a corner, but before I can do the same, a hand wraps around my throat and slams me against the wall, demonic eyes burning into me. It squeezes hard enough that my vision blurs, and my chances of saving Sable lessen every passing second—Tony needs to stay hidden.
Out the corner of my eye, I can see him peering out from behind a pillar when a second guard shows up, and they lead me the opposite direction, my feet dragging behind me.
Find her, I want to yell.Find her and get her out.
31
Sable
The key slips from my fingers and back into the ripped duffel bag as I quietly shut the front door behind me. I can’t bring myself to take more than a few steps from the entrance before letting the bag fall from my slumped shoulder and drop to the floor.
I’m too tired to even kick it out of the way.
My back hurts. My feet are on fire. My shoulders are aching. The muscles in my forearms refuse to comply.
The stench of grease, self-loathing, and exhaustion sticks to my skin and every follicle of my hair. No matter how many times I shower, the stench from pulling doubles at the fast-food joint down the road will always win.
Having a customer throw a burger right at my face doesn’t help.
Ella’s going in for another scan next week, and we haven’t got enough to cover this week’s insurance bill after all the tests she had to do last month. Picking up more hours on top of theones I’ve been doing at Latitude Net is the only way we’ll be able to afford to eat.
My entire body protests as I drag myself into the kitchen. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep doing this before my heart gives out from the stress, but I’ll keep going until the day it does. I’d rather my sister be well, happy, and alive, so I’ll keep the bitching to myself.
I turn on the light and go through the motions of preparing food for tomorrow. I’ve got another long day ahead of me, and sometimes Ella is too tired to cook for herself, and I know Megan is too busy tomorrow to check on her, so I’ll need to have everything set up ahead of time.
My heart drops lower the longer I spend moving between the cupboard and the fridge, trying to scrounge enough to pull a meal together. We’re overdue for another trip to the grocery store, but I don’t have the finances or the time to go for another two days.
Maybe I could ask my boss to give me part of my pay early, and I can run to the store during my break?
No, that’s not going to work either. The car is out of gas, and I won’t make it back in time if I have to take the bus.
I’ll figure it out tomorrow.
I pack the ready-made meals into the fridge then open the drawer to set up Ella’s medication for the rest of the week.
My heart stops beating as I stare at the pill container sitting at the top of the pile—the container that’s divided into days and separated by breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
It’s Saturday, the last day the container holds. Yet over half of the container slots still have pills in it.
The last time she took her medication was on Tuesday.
FuckingTuesday.
I’ve been busting my ass and stressing over money for Ella’s medical bills, and she doesn’t even take the medication I took time off work to pick up.
That same rage I felt whenever I was a kid comes boiling back up. Me, being punished for existing and twisting my life up, while everyone all but kisses Ella’s feet just for existing.
