“I’m really tired, and I’m working right now, so if we can speed this along . . .” I try to stand as far away from him as I can, but not so far that people can hear what he’s saying.
“Wow.” He puts one hand to his chest as if I shot him. “The lack of respect you have for me is unheard of.”
“The lack of respect I have for you?” I’m not sure if I heard him right. “What have you done to make me respect you?” I shake my head. “Actually, scratch that. I don’t care. I don’t want to have this conversation. Why don’t you just forget all about me?”
“Yeah, you want us to forget about you now that you’re sleeping in a mansion.” His hand falls from his chest to his side, and my stomach gets tight.
“I’m not sleeping in a mansion,” I hiss at him.
He rolls his eyes at me. “Please, you slept there last night. You’ve been sleeping there all fucking week. He’s driving you to work and then back to his house.”
“He wouldn’t have to drive me to and from his house if someone”—I point at him—“hadn’t sliced my tires. Do you know it’s going to cost me four hundred dollars? Four hundred dollars that I don’t have.” I throw my hands up. I know I should keep my cool. I know I shouldn’t be making a scene. This will only fuel the gossip in town.
“You are so ungrateful. I did you a favor.”
“A favor?” It’s like he’s not even speaking English.
“Yeah, I made it so that man takes care of you. You’re welcome. Now you have to do me a favor. I need five hundred dollars.”
“I don’t have it,” I retort, feeling as if I’m about to burst into tears from the frustration of this conversation. “In the past months, I’ve given you eleven hundred dollars, a thousand of which was stolen with the forged check, which made my rent bounce, and then my bank charged me an additional forty-three dollars. Plus the four hundred I have to come up with now to put on my tires.”
“Well, ask your boyfriend to lend you money.” He smacks his lips. “He looks like he really likes you, so he’ll give it to you, and then you can give it to me.” He smiles. “Make everyone happy.”
“I will not.” My body shakes with rage. I’ve never thought about how much I hated him until right this minute.
“Fine,” he says. “By the way, your mother and I will be staying at your place for a couple of days. Maybe a week.” The way he just gives me this information, as if it’s no big deal, as if he’s telling me, as if he has the right, makes my blood boil. “Maybe a little longer. The water in our trailer isn’t working anymore.”
“No, you are not,” I hiss at him.
“You won’t even be there, so what difference is it to you?”
“You will not stay in my house, and if you do?—”
“What are you going to do? Hey?” He advances toward me, his eyes filled with rage. I don’t usually stand up to him.
“Collins.” Roman walks out with two bags in his hand. His eyes are narrowed on my father. “Let’s go.”
“You will not go to my house,” I tell my father firmly, before turning my back to get in the ambulance.
“Fine. Then we’ll show up at Daddy Warbucks’s house, and he’ll take us in. Actually, now that I think of it”—my father puts his finger to his chin—“it’s time we have a chat, man-to-man.”
I whip back around. “Stay away from him—” I stop talking when I spot Brock behind him, coming toward us, a look of pure fury on his face. I move past my father to intercept him.
“Collins.” Brock’s voice is tight as he looks over my shoulder. I follow his gaze. My father avoids looking at Brock. He just saunters off down the street, as if he does not have a care in the fucking world. I can’t help but hang my head for a second before looking back up at Brock.
“Brock, I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you,” I start nervously. “I’m not avoiding you. I was on calls all morning.” Stinging starts in my eyes, and I really want this day to be fucking over already.
“I don’t care about that,” he replies. “You okay? You look a little?—”
“Yeah, I didn’t get much sleep last night. Are you going to be at the shop when I get off shift? I can come in, and we can discuss the bill.”
“Yeah, but it’s not a rush. You can pay me when you can.”
“I don’t know if I can ever thank you enough.” I close my eyes. “I wish I didn’t have to take the handout, I really do, but I’m a little strapped for cash.”
“Why?”
I tilt my head.
