All In

Evernight
Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2014
JC
Szot

 
ISBN: 978-1-77130-737-6

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor: Laurie Temple

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized
reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.
 
No part of this book may be used or
reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the
case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All
names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events,
locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

This book is
dedicated 
to
my husband, Mike.  I lost Mike on August 1, 2013 after a long battle with
AML Leukemia.
All In 
was the
first story I wrote after his death.  It's taken some time for
me to get back into my fictional groove, but I know Mike would want
me to continue with my writing.
All In
is all for him.

ALL IN

JC
Szot

Copyright © 2014

Chapter
One

“Where did you get that?” Cara asked. Her eyes widened
at the wad of cash Mick had clenched between his fingers. He straightened out
the bills, fanning them in her face like a deck of cards.

“It’s my old man’s, or it was,” Mick said. A cunning
grin formed on his full lips.

It was more money than Cara had ever seen, aside
from standing in line while at the bank.

“I found it stuffed behind the fucking insulation
down in the basement,” Mick told her. “Fucking asshole … says he never has any
money. Well, now I’ve got a little over three G’s.”

They huddled in the dark alley, shuddering from a
bone-chilling wind that tunneled around them.

Mick’s eyes flashed as he pushed the black wool cap
back over his brows, displaying features that could easily swing between
expressions, and at the drop of a hat. Cara had seen both sides, how Mick could
look wonderfully handsome, as well as extremely intimidating.

He kept his dark hair buzzed close to his scalp. Mick
had intense hazel eyes that seemed to change with his expressions, often
looking as dark as cocoa with a leafy green incorporated in. Those unique eyes
were paired with a strong, square jaw. His cheeks were always shaded with a
hint of growth.

Checking both ends of the alley, Mick rolled the
bills up, returning them to the safe confines of his pocket.

“What are you going to do with that money?” Cara pulled
her hood over her head.

“It’s what
we’re
going to do with it,” Mick told her, his features sobering. He scoured the length
of the alley once more, his voice lowering. “We’re getting the fuck outta
here.”

“What the hell are you saying?” Cara felt her entire
body go tight. The look on Mick’s face had her mind racing.

“Just look at our folks.” He sniffed, shaking his
head. “There’s no future here. We live in The Hollow, remember?” Mick’s hand
reached for her. His fingers dug into her arm. His grip seared through her heavy
coat. Mick shook her, jarring her with the brutal truth of his words. “If we
don’t get out of here now, we’ll never leave,” Mick whispered, his tone now
dripping with an empathy Cara wasn’t familiar with. “There’s better, and I
don’t need to become a goddamn basketball player to get it,” he said sharply.

Cara knew the resentment Mick had for his brother
ran deep. All
Mick’s
parents cared about was Theo’s
athletic success and what it could buy them later. Theo had won a scholarship
for college and was now being considered for the NBA draft.

Mick had always fought to tame his jealousy, only
ever getting the leftovers. He’d never been praised for his good grades. His
father always told him there was never any money for him to even consider
taking a night class at the local community college.

Mick was a short-order cook at the local diner, and a
good one, but Cara knew his aspirations were always trying to reach higher.

They’d both been living day-to-day in The Hollow.
Mick had been vowing since graduating high school that he was going to split. Cara
had underestimated him. She thought this day would never come, assuming Mick
shared her own fears about leaving, fears that were connected to failure, only
having to return and admit defeat. Silence hung around them as dead leaves swirled
in the wind before skidding across the asphalt.

They were already twenty-two years old. Mick was
right.
Very little had changed.
Had Cara become so
numbed by the same daily routine that she hadn’t noticed?

She’d been sloughing in a dead-end job, assembling
pegboards at Rothmans’ Millworks. As Mick presented this blinding reality,
Cara’s thoughts reverted back to her mother. Though Cara had always had shelter
and food, her mother was foolish, shacking up with a new man every week.

A gust of biting wind stung her eyes. Mick’s voice
clawed its way through the shadows.

“We only
get
one fucking
life, and this isn’t how it’s
gonna
be,” he said,
jamming the toe of his sneaker into the concrete.

“Why do you want to take me?” Cara asked, her heart
tripping at her own question. She and Mick had been what Cara always thought of
as “survivor mates.” This was a radical move. Before she agreed to anything,
she needed to know.

“No way am I leaving you here,” he told her through
an irritated breath, his jaw tight. “It’s now or never. It’s this one second of
indecision that can easily turn into many minutes. Minutes that turn into the
hours of days, days that you can never get back. Faltering can do years of
damage.” Mick swallowed hard, his eyes narrowing.

 
“Why does
this feel like a top-secret mission?” Cara asked. “I can’t leave without
telling my friends.”

“If we say the slightest thing all people will do is
laugh,” Mick said, his tone scathing. “They’ll say our plan will never work,
and we’ll be back. I will not listen to their fears of failure. People are also
going to question where I got the funds to leave. I’d probably be arrested for
stealing, knowing how gossip travels around this place.” Mick shook his head. “Tomorrow
night is the night. Are you in, Cara?”

The only world she knew flashed before her eyes. The
idea of going on here, in The Hollow, without Mick had her insides cramping
with a different kind of fear. They’d known each other forever, born and raised
in the darkest, murkiest part of Pittsburgh. He’d taught her how to tie her
shoes, for God’s sakes!

That hesitation Mick had just lectured her about was
knocking at the door of her soul, trying to get in and ingrain itself, filling
her with a trepidation Cara wasn’t sure she could believe. Wasn’t fear why
people stayed where they were?

“Cara!” Mick’s voice rattled through her.

“What time are we leaving?” she gasped, having held
her breath.

Their eyes locked. Warm breaths slipped from Mick’s
mouth in strings of smoke.

“The last bus out leaves at dusk.
Meet
me at the Blackwell Street Station … and, please, travel light.” He spun on his
heel, disappearing into the darkness.

Cara sagged into the cold bricks, listening to the
echo of his footsteps as they receded into the night.

Chapter
Two

He couldn’t sleep. Mick sat up and turned on the
small nightlight. He checked his backpack again, making sure he had everything
he needed and nothing he didn’t. If he did, it would only weigh him down.

Thank God Cara was coming. Leaving her behind
would’ve been the hardest thing he’d ever done.

He’d been in love with Cara forever, for more than
half his life. His heart rate woke up with the idea, becoming erratic. Would
this departure enable him to act?

Cara and her mother had landed in The Hollow right before
they started first grade. A bad divorce combined with a string of more bad
choices had made Cara and her mom Mick’s permanent neighbors.

A line of dim light lit up below his door. His
father’s footsteps creaked through the hall. Mick turned the nightlight out and
sat back in his bed. He could take care of Cara now. He wanted to give her
everything she ever wanted and hoped to have.

What kind of life could he offer Cara here? The
American dream would never be birthed and built in a slum. That stuff only
existed on TV. There were a few decent people in their neighborhood, those who
worked hard and continued to struggle. Then there were the others.
Folks who weren’t motivated.
They’d given up. Mick didn’t
want that happening to him. A change this drastic needed to be done while he
was young. The older you got, the more fearful you became. If he was going to
implement change, it had to be now.

Mick had been holding his breath for years,
afraid
Cara would be snatched up, but living here put you on
the outs where the opposite sex was concerned. It was a line of segregation
that no one wanted to cross, despite one’s good looks and nature. This
unfortunate stigma had worked to his advantage, leaving Cara for him. For Mick,
Cara was the billboard of his future, advertising as well as prompting him to
act. Once they got away from here and it was only the two of them, he would try
to convey all the feelings he’d kept restrained without the hideous backdrop of
The Hollow.

****

“You took a shower last night,” her mother
said,
her tone scolding. “You better watch that hot water. The
bill will be coming eventually.”

“I know. I got glue in my hair today at work. I’m
sorry,” Cara said, running the brush through her hair. She pulled the blonde
strands back, securing her hair in a tight ponytail. She wasn’t sure when she’d
be able to shower and shampoo again.

This whole thing was nuts. Fear and excitement laced
together, pulling her insides into a snug knot.

Cara would assemble her last pegboards tomorrow. What
would Val and Lacy think when she didn’t show up at work? She would have to go
in tomorrow and act like all was normal. A shiver ran through her.

Her small knapsack was packed and stuffed under the
bed. Mick had told her to pack as light as possible. Women were known for
needing everything but the kitchen sink, but she didn’t own much. Her mother
always snatched her paycheck before she could even think about buying something
for herself.

She rolled all her clothing, choosing her three
favorite pairs of jeans and four shirts. Cara stuffed the pockets of her jeans
with as much underwear as she could. She’d wear the only decent bra she had and
her boots, thinking she’d need sturdy shoes.

As Cara zipped the side compartment closed that was
filled with her toiletries, her eyes landed on her bookshelf, the sills bowing
from weight. There was no way she could not take at least a few books. She got
up, kneeling in front of the shelf. There were still a few she hadn’t read,
having picked them up at the consignment store last week. Cara leafed through
the titles. She’d already started
Down
and Dirty
,
noting the bookmark nestled between the pages.