Damaged (3 page)

Chapter Three

“I don’t understand why you have to go out again tonight,” Sarah sighed, pushing her long black hair from her face. “We got enough at the grocery store to last us for quite a while, as long as Jack doesn’t have another growth spurt.” At seventeen, Sarah and Jack were smart as whips, and didn’t miss a thing. It hadn’t taken Sarah long to figure out where the money was coming from. Monica hated that. Explaining to her siblings that she had resorted to petty crime to provide for them had been gut wrenching. She was ashamed to set such an example for her younger brother and sister.

Monica rolled her eyes as a plastic cup appeared out of nowhere, seemingly hurled at Sarah’s head. She was able to duck in time to avoid it, bu
t wasted no time picking it up to throw back at Jack. “Would you two knock it off already? We can’t afford to buy new stuff, so let’s try to not break anything else, please?”

Jack slumped back onto the couch
. His hair, the same color as his twin’s, fell over his forehead into his eyes. He needed it cut, but he refused every time she suggested it. “She started it,” Jack shot back as he flipped through the channels on their tiny, thirteen-inch television. “Man, it’d be nice to get more than five channels on this piece of crap TV,” he complained, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

Raising two teenagers at her age should be illegal. She spent more time breaking up fights and stopping petty arguments than she did anything else. Moving to the kitchen, Monica sorted through the mail, a task that was never any fun. Bills, bills…more bills, and not
near enough money to pay them. It was amazing how much it cost for a two bedroom apartment, and they weren’t in the best neighborhood either. Every night they went to bed to the sounds of police sirens and shouting. On a bad night, even the occasional gunshot would rouse them from their sleep. It was no place for children to be raised, but they had to live within their means, and that wasn’t much of anything. When she could get a better job, they were moving someplace better, maybe even out of state if she could swing it.

“Dam
mit, I swear I just paid the gas bill,” she groaned, tearing the small white envelope open. Well, she had paid
some
on the gas bill. They were still behind by a hundred and twenty dollars. In fact, they were behind on all of their bills, and August was fast approaching, which meant putting Sarah and Jack back in school. Registration would set them back a lot, but it was a necessary expense. The twins still needed to go to school, no matter how bad things got. Their education was first and foremost on the list of expenses that were vital. Looking for a new job was going to be her first priority come Monday morning, but for now…she had to make do.

Sarah already had that look on her face when Monica reached for her black hoodie hanging near the door.
“Look, Sarah, I have to go out. We have bills, and you have school coming up. I don’t have any other option.”

“What if you get caught, Monica?”
Sarah argued, crossing her arms over her chest. “What will we do then? Huh? We can’t come bail you out. Heck, we can’t even afford cab fare to the police station.”

Monica
smoothed her hair back into a tight ponytail before pulling a dark ball cap on, tugging it low over her eyes. “I wouldn’t expect you to. You two are old enough you’d be okay here by yourselves for a little while. Besides, I’m not going to get caught, so let’s just drop it.” Her confidence wasn’t as high tonight, though. After her run-in with mystery man the night before, she’d been rattled. She had been caught. She could have been turned in and arrested. Sarah and Jack could be sitting here alone right now, with no idea what to do next. The thought made her stomach turn.

Sarah huffed, letting her arms fall to her sides. “But Monica…”

“I don’t have any other choice right now, Sarah. What do you want me to do?” The words came out harsher than she had intended, and the hurt was visible in Sarah’s big blue eyes. Regret clawed at her brain. “Sarah, I didn’t mean—”

It was already too late. She was gone in a swish of silky raven hair, with the bedroom door slamming shut behind her. Monica sighed and let her head fall back. She’d have to mend things later when she got home, but the sun was setting
fast, and if she wanted to get her mission over with before two a.m., she needed to go now.

Pulling the hood up over her hat, she pocketed her phone.
“Make sure you lock the door behind me and latch all of the bolts.”

Jack didn’t even look up from his spot on the couch. He was used to the safety speech. “Got it, Sis.”

“I’ll have my phone on vibrate. If anyone knocks, you ignore it. Do
not
answer the door for anyone, understood?”

Jack rolled his eyes
, tossing his head to move the hair from his face. “Well, there goes my evening then. I have three hookers coming at eleven. They’re gonna be super disappointed when I refuse to let them in.” His tone was dry, bored.

Monica narrowed her eyes at him. “
Not funny, smartass. I mean it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he retorted.
In the last few months, Jack had entered some strange phase. He was defensive, angry all the time, and it was starting to scrape at Monica’s nerves. Shit, she was doing the best she could. Yes, she felt terrible that Sarah and Jack couldn’t do the things normal teenagers did, but they had to stay off the radar. If anyone found out where they were, she’d be going to jail, and the kids would be returned home.

Monica pushed that thought awa
y as she stepped into the hallway, waiting momentarily until she heard Jack move across the apartment to click the locks into place. When he had secured the last mechanism, she shoved her hands into her pockets and hit the stairs. The scent of stale smoke, piss and some other smell that she didn’t even want to begin to analyze, assailed her nose. The carpet lining the hallway to the main door was ripped and worn, the yellowed wallpaper peeling from every surface. It was disgusting, it was nearly inhumane, but it was home for now.

She moved quickly, terrified
of running into the guy from apartment twenty-six. She didn’t even know his name, nor did she want to. Last time she’d come face to face with him, he’d pinned her to the wall, offering her two hundred dollars to suck his dick. Not even she was that desperate. Monica shuddered as she remembered his toothless grin and sour breath, inches from her face while his dirty hands groped her ass. A well-placed knee to his balls had allowed her to escape, but his promised retaliation rang out loud and clear as she ran away, desperate to put as much distance between them as humanly possible.
You’ll regret that you little bitch…you’re gonna get raped, and you’re gonna love it. You wait and see!
There was little doubt that he’d follow through on those threats if given half a chance, and just the thought of it had bile stinging the back of her throat.

After passing the apartment in question without a
sound, Monica pushed through the filmy glass doors and stepped onto the sidewalk. Clouds had moved in since she’d last looked outside, and light haze of drizzle was filling the air. It wasn’t a good sign. There were less people out when the weather turned, which meant less cover to do her thing. Without the crowd, it was more difficult to blend in—increasing the odds of being spotted.
Dammit
.

Regardless of the setback, Monica pushed on, turning into the alley behind her building. Her boots splashed in the puddles as she moved with a purpose, focused on what she needed to do. It was unusually chilly for a summer night. The damp air seemed to seep right through her sweatshirt and jeans, stealing the warmth from her flesh.
Suppressing the chill that snaked up her spine, she stopped at the mouth of the next alley, taking a moment to check the street before stepping out. She’d been right. The crowd was dramatically smaller than usual, so she’d need to be on top of her game tonight. She couldn’t afford to be distracted in any way, but after the night before…she couldn’t help but ride that jagged edge of anxiety. She’d been sloppy and reckless. There was no other excuse for what had happened. If she had been paying attention, he never would have gotten close enough.

Her eyes darted haphazardly around
the street, taking note of vehicles and people who looked familiar, but everything seemed to be clear. It didn’t take long to zero in on her first target, a group of young men making their way to a bar. It was obvious that they had started the party earlier in the evening, judging by the way they swayed when walking. One of them even had his wallet sticking out of the top of his back pocket slightly. It was almost too damn easy. Monica passed by, made her grab, and shoved the leather bundle into her pocket. They were none the wiser.

Quick to leave the area, Monica turned onto the next block, keeping her head down
and her ears open. The opportunities were minimal, making a hint of desperation begin to claw at her mind. She had to fight it off. Desperation would only lead to a slip-up.

She had all but given up hope of success when she emerged from the space between buildings to find a man in jeans and a suit coat bending into the trunk of his car. He looked pretty focused on wh
atever he was searching for, but Monica took note of the laptop bag leaning against the back tire. It was black leather, marked with the gold emblem of a high-end designer on the flap. It would get her at least five hundred at pawn, and she wanted it. Badly.

Waiting until
her mark ducked into the trunk once more, Monica moved swiftly and silently, stepping from the curb to slip her arm through the strap effortlessly. Once it was secured, her heart pounded in her rib cage so hard it was almost painful. She needed to move fast. As quick as her legs could carry her, she slipped into the comforting darkness of the narrow alley, stopping just inside to slump back against the damp brick to try to catch her breath. Clutching the bag to her chest, she closed her eyes and regained her composure. She’d never stolen anything of such value before. It was a little overwhelming, and guilt sat like a lead weight in her gut, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it. She needed to get moving.

She should have heard it coming.

She should have heard the footsteps.

She never should have stopped to begin with.
But she had, and by the time the massive shadow of a man blocked out the glow of the nearby street light unexpectedly, Monica didn’t even have a chance to react. A hand clamped down over her mouth, and his heavy form crushed her firmly to the wall behind her. Her eyes went wide as terror ripped through her body.
Not again, oh God, not again
!! Helpless against his strength, tears welled in her eyes, stinging bitterly. This was karma. It had to be. She’d stolen, broken the law, and now her luck had officially run out. Two nights in a row was more than a sign, it was a warning siren blaring in her head. And then it hit her, shocking her with a jolt, making her go still.

The cologne.

It was him, the mystery man from the night before. Oddly, a sense of relief washed over her. Why, she had no idea, because that meant that he had her figured out. That meant he’d probably been following her and watching her for a while. Her stomach turned and her throat tightened with the threat of getting sick.

“I’ll move my ha
nd if you promise not to scream,” he ordered, his voice low, demanding.

Right. Like she was going to scream while she stood there holding
his stolen belongings. Staring up at his shadowed face, she nodded slightly. He nodded in turn before pulling his hand away from her mouth slowly. Monica sucked precious oxygen into her lungs, thankful to have the barrier removed.

“I—I’m sorry,” she whispered hoarsely. “Please let me go.”

The man shook his head slowly, maintaining his hold on her upper arms. “Last time I trusted you, you made me look like a fool. Not happening this time, sweetheart.”

She had nothing to say to that. She was a moron if she thought
she was going to luck out twice.

Monica swallowed. Her mouth was so dry
, she was dizzy with fear. “I won’t run. I promise.” It was worth a shot anyway.

Lips that were made for pure sin curled into a grin
, barely visible in the low light of the alley. “I know you won’t, because this time you’re coming with me. We’re not having this discussion in another disgusting alley. My car is at the curb, but I’m going to need my keys.”

Monica stared up at him as confusion clouded her brain. “But…I don’t have your keys.
Why would I have your—”

His icy blue gaze dipped to the bag she was still clutching to her chest, then back to her face.
Her blood ran cold. He’d set her up from the beginning. She’d been so damn focused on the dollar signs that she hadn’t even considered it was a sting.

“Yes you do,” he informed. “Front pocket. Now, we’re going to walk out of this alley
to my car, and you’re going to be a good girl for me. Right?”

If it meant he wouldn’t call the police, then she’d comply with whatever he said. “Where are we going?” she asked, glancing at the vehicle in the street.

“Somewhere we can talk. Now move.” He barely finished his statement before taking her by the arm, pulling her toward the sidewalk. She didn’t want to talk. She wanted to go home to Sarah and Jack. Sarah was right; she never should have gone out tonight.