Page 3 of Ruthless

My brother highlights every win he experiences at SilverTech to justify that returning to the city was the right decision. I don’t hate living in Brooklyn, but I worked hard to build a life for us after we escaped, and our little condo in Toledo was infinitely more comfortable than this cramped two-bedroom apartment.

My nursing schedule usually consists of four twelve-hour days on and then four off. These past few weeks, I’ve also been picking up extra shifts to bring in some extra money.

I don’t mind the brutal workload. Witnessing the bright sparkle in Jeremy’s eyes as he waxes poetic about his job is more than payment enough.

Meeting his gaze now, I’m momentarily stunned by how much he resembles our dad, Charlie. The same hazel eyes, the same tall, gangly build. I wonder if Jeremy sees the likeness, then shake my head at the absurdity of the thought. Of course not. He doesn’t even remember the man who walked out on us. That happened years before our mom died in a car accident, so after she passed, Jeremy and I only had each other.

Thank God the courts granted me custody.

My heart squeezes. For the most part, Jeremy was an easy teen. We hit rough patches, of course. Engaged in screaming matches that ended with both of us crying on the floor of our shitty little studio apartment. Our living situation wasn’t ideal, but the studio was the most I could afford while putting myself through nursing school and working as a receptionist at the Staten Island Teaching Hospital.

Sometimes, I still catch glimpses of those two orphans, alone in the world with nobody but each other.

“…and I’m getting promoted!”

His exclamation snaps me back to reality. “Oh my gosh, that’s amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

I pull him into a hug and playfully ruffle his hair.

He swats my hand away before squirming free. “I guess putting in all that overtime paid off.”

“We should celebrate. I can call Angela?—”

“No way! You aren’t using me as an excuse to cancel your night out. We can celebrate another day.” He shoos me toward the door. “Now, go. Have fun for once.”

“We’ll see,” I mutter before calling for a ride and meandering toward the lobby to wait.

The Sara from five years ago knew how to have a good time. Sara 2.0, not so much.

But maybe Angela and Jeremy are right. Maybe it’s past time to start.

I’m so caught up in my thoughts that motion outside the window startles me. Two men in suits hurry past, paying me no attention.

As my pulse settles, I roll my eyes at my skittishness. Clearly I’m still a little freaked out by that eerie sensation of someone watching me earlier, but that was probably all in my head too.

Even so, I spend the rest of the wait for the Uber rubbing goosebumps off my arms.

The End

To be continued…

Chapter 2

Dante

Rain streaks the glass, dripping down the snout of a stone gargoyle perched below the window and transforming the downtown Manhattan skyline into a sea of blurred lights. On the soaked sidewalks, people scurry like bugs under a magnifying glass as they tend to their mundane lives.

I roll my wrist to consult my Rolex. The 18-karat gold hands have barely moved since the last time I checked.

After sipping my whiskey, I consult my phone, too, in case I somehow missed their call.

Nothing.

My fingers flex around the edge of the desk. I was so close to her today that I could almost feel her soft skin and smell her roses and cherries fragrance. I spent years trying to scrub her scent from my memory, but now, it’s haunting me again.

Fuck her.

With a snarl, I hurl my tumbler at the wall. The glass shatters, spraying the floor with glittering fragments. Venomous hatred strangles my throat until I’m convinced I’ll choke.