Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
She nods vigorously and points to the stove. I don’t have to ask what she wants. Her belly grumbles loudly. She claps her hands around her waist and folds over, embarrassed by the sound. Eating is more important to her than being clean.
I rub my forehead. This poor girl is fucked up. The brief image I glimpsed of her scrawny body in the tub is seared into my head. I could count each individual rib. She needs more than me taking care of her. What do I know about little girls?
I pour the half-heated soup into a mug and pull out a loaf of bread. I break the loaf in half and place both the bread and the soup on the floor in front of her.
“Sorry I don’t have a table.”
Surprisingly, she doesn’t fall on her food right away. Instead, she sits down cross-legged and gives me an expectant look.
“Don’t worry about me,” I reassure her. “I’m eating the same thing.” I grab a spoon and the remainder of the bread and join her on the floor.
I don’t waste my breath talking to her. Even if she was a talker, she wouldn’t be able to say a word. She’s too busy shoving food into her mouth.
As I eat, I run through the few options I have for her. Beefer is the guy I report to. He’s got two little ones and is probably the best suited to taking care of this girl. But Beefer’s not happy with the two he has. He’s always complaining about how they’re greedy animals who’d bite off his hand if it didn’t hold the checkbook. That’s why he always has to fuck one of the girls from the stable.
He still has to pay for the girls. It’s just at a discount. Everyone in the organization has to pay for their use of the girls except for the big guy. At least, that’s what the birds chirp about when they get together.
I’ve never spoken to the boss. I don’t know that he knows I work for him. I’m too far down on the food chain. For now, that’s a good thing. But I know if I am going to stick around, I need to be good at something. I have to offer the big guy value. From what I’ve seen, if you want to wear the suit and eat at the table with the boss, you need to be good with money or good with a gun.
I’m not good with money. I don’t have much, and at the rate I’m saving it up, I doubt I’ll ever have enough to buy my way to the table. But I can be good with the gun. I can be violent and cruel and harsh. It’s the only way to stay alive in this world.
I consider the girl. She’s so fragile that a strong breeze would tear her apart. She’s not going to survive with Beefer. Stinky Steve’s kids are older than me. None of the other families that work for Steve would want to take her in either. They’d see her as baggage. Another expensive mouth to feed.
Sensing my attention, she pauses, a piece of bread in her mouth. Haltingly, she pulls the uneaten portion out of her mouth and offers it to me. Yeah, there’s no way I can give her to Beefer.
Besides, why does she need to go anywhere? I’ve kept myself alive since I was her age. I was on the streets since I was barely older than she is. If there’s anything I know how to do, it’s survive. I can teach that to her, right?
She offers me the bread again.
“Nah, I’m good.” I hold up my end of the loaf. “I got half, remember. And there’s more where that came from.” I swallow the rest of my soup and pick up her empty cup. After washing the dishes, I stick them in the drawer under the stove. It’s the one place most people don’t pull open.
“Look, I’ve got to go and meet someone and get us more food.”
She stands immediately. A bunch of crumbs tumble out of her sweatshirt onto the floor, crunching under her feet as she turns to run. I catch her frail, matchstick-thin arm. “Wait. You can’t come with me.”
Her eyes widen and pool with water.
Oh shit.
“I’m coming back,” I declare. Her upper lip trembles. I crouch down. “I’m going to leave all my shit here with you, and I need you to protect it for me. Can you do that?”
The trembling lip gets sucked in and she gives me a brave jerk of her head.
With a sigh of relief, I stand. “I’m going to make a bed for you. Try to sleep while I’m gone.” I doubt she will, though.
I lead her into a small bedroom—the one Mike says is for guests. I’ve got all my shit stuffed into a closet. The blanket will make a nice bed for her. I rearrange a few things and pat the bed of clothes with my hand. “Climb in. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Stay here and be quiet.”