“That’s not it then,” Fay says.
“Look, what do you want me to say? I’ll talk to Marty and figure this out.”
“I knew it,” Fay groans. “You own Marty money, don’t you?”
“There’s no way he torched my car,” I say.
“Not him, but his people did, I bet,” Fay says.
“What’s the difference? You buy off Marty too.”
“I pay Marty,” Fay says. “And my personal life isn’t your concern.”
“Neither is mine yours.”
“It is when there are firetrucks and police officers here,” Fay says.
“Isn’t that your dream?” I ask. “Hunky firemen out there? Sexy cops talking to you? Those are men with jobs, pensions and health insurance. Who wouldn’t want to fuck a stripper, right?”
“I’m going to let you attack me just because you lost your car and your guitar,” Fay says. “Did you read your letter yet?”
“What letter?” I ask.
“I told you there’s a letter for you. It’s right there on the table.”
The envelope is an off-white color with printed text.
Jacine Ruby.
My name.
I grab the envelope and slide my finger across the back.
Fay and I always have a joke about opening an envelope and it’s a check for like one million dollars from winning some random lottery. We laugh and keep laughing when it’s bills or collection notices or legal shit.
But this time…
I take out the piece of paper and read what’s typed on it.
This time I might have won the lottery.
Chapter 2
My legs dangle over the edge of the old concrete.
At some point, they dug out the ground, poured in concrete, and tried to keep the bottom of this shitty town from flooding.
Ironic enough, they never needed to use it for floods.
Blame global warming or something.
We all hung around in the dangerous pathways.
It was the easiest way to sneak around. But you had to know where to jump in and where to climb out. Or else you’d get stuck.
And when it did rain a lot, the water would just sit there.
With years and years of old leaves, trash, drugs and used condoms… it could get nasty.