“Yeah, but you’re the financial guy, right?” he asks.
Sure, I’ve helped Brennon from time to time with things, but I’m no drug dealer. Not that Brennon does it for the money. He likes the thrill of doing something bad, and loves the attention he gets from it.
“Like I said, Brennon sells, not me.”
Liam looks a little mortified at the refusal, sweat breaking out over his forehead. He’s always been a bit of a shy guy.
“Right. Okay then. Thanks anyway,” he mumbles, hastily walking back out.
A few of the men glance over at me suspiciously, and I wonder if they overheard anything. Or perhaps they thought the exchange seemed unusual.
Rumours of Brennon and I being involved in all sorts of shit have circled around town over the years. I’m guessing it’s from all those times we broke into old buildings and houses, marking the walls with profanities and symbols. When I think back to all the stupid things I let Brennon talk me into, I feel like stabbing myself in the eye.
Sighing, I finish my meal, then take it back to the kitchen and place it on the dirty pile before going out back to clock in.
“Another day, another dollar.” Ainsley smiles, seeing my unenthusiastic look.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Another day in paradise.”