Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
This homelessness was my reality. Being a good person hadn’t stopped my dramatic fall, so what was the point?
It was a question I couldn’t answer, and I didn’t have the energy to even bother, so I reached for my phone and called a new friend of sorts.
“Hey, Joey, it’s Bonnie. Do you think you can come to me this time?” I hoped there was no surcharge for delivery, but at this point, I would pay it.
“I don’t know, Bonnie. What’s in it for me?”
I rolled my eyes. Did these guys all read from the same sleazy playbook? “The same thing that’s always in it for you. Money.”
He laughed. “I do love the green shit, babe. When and where?”
I gave Joey the details and powered off my phone, dragging three bags just over a mile from the diner like I was some damn tourist. Unlike Squeaker, whose final image still haunted the few hours I slept each night, Joey looked like a regular guy. He had brown hair and blue eyes, could be a nightclub bouncer or a frat boy.
“Bonnie. Everything all right?” He was charming too, almost made me believe he cared how I was doing.
“I’m fine, Joey. Thanks for asking.”
He shrugged. “What are friends for?”
He wasn’t my friend, but there was no point saying so, instead, I handed him the cash and took the drugs. “Thanks.”
“Hey. You look like you could use a hand. I can help.”
I shook my head and offered up a smile, knowing there was no way I’d ever accept whatever kind of help he was offering, not after what they’d done to Maisie. I smirked to myself. I wasn’t that far gone after all. Not that Calvin Ashby knew a damn thing about struggling, so his opinion didn’t matter. No one’s did.
“No thanks. I’ll figure it out.”
He shrugged because it didn’t matter to him one way or the other. He’d already gotten paid for the drugs, anything on top of that was a bonus. A sick twisted bonus. “Offer stands.”
As soon as Joey took off in his shiny sports car, I took off in the opposite direction, unable to shake the feeling that I was being watched. Or followed. It was silly, I knew. I didn’t matter enough to anyone to have me followed, and that was if they had the means to do so.
Maisie was the only one who cared and even she’d stopped calling after two weeks of silence. She’d probably forgotten all about me now.
Good.
I stopped in the middle of the next block and turned, scanning the area to see if anything seemed familiar or anyone stood out. Nothing. A nondescript gold car, boxy and old looking. A few people avoiding looking at each other at a bus stop. A line snaked around a taco stand. Nothing screamed surveillance, so I shook off the feeling, turned around and walked back toward the diner.
I couldn’t go back inside without letting Fred know that something was wrong. I didn’t want anyone else tied up in my problems, so I stopped at a city bench to regroup.
Without my car, I was truly homeless, which meant I could find a place to sleep on the streets or spend my meager tips to pay for a room.
I couldn’t afford any place that I’d be comfortable sleeping in, so it would be a waste of money, and I didn’t have enough to waste.
Maisie was an option, but I knew that was a lie even before it fully formed in my mind. Her life had come together beautifully. All the pieces fell into place the way they should have: her job, her love life, her already large extended family. She deserved all that and more, which meant she didn’t need me around, putting a damper on her life. No, Maisie was becoming a rock star, and me, well I was just a fucking junkie.
And it turned out that Mother was right, a whore too, sleeping with a man who thought so little of me.
No, Maisie wasn’t the answer.
But this was Glitz, filled with several casinos and hotels. Motels, too. And anyone could become rich or famous here, sometimes infamous. I wasn’t looking for fame or infamy, but money was something I had far too little of to start a new life somewhere else.
Anywhere else.
I knew there was a risk I’d be spotted, but it was a risk I had to take. I walked the couple miles and entered Black Stallion Casino and stuffed my bags into a locker, shoving the key deep in my pocket as I made my way to the tables.
Before the weekend was over, I would have enough money to leave this desert, this town, and this state behind me.
Or, I’d have just enough to get as high as possible and never wake up.
Either option was fine with me.