Page 15 of Phoenix

She started laughing. “It was all bullshit.”

He frowned. “What?”

“The story I told Owen. Total bullshit.”

“You weren’t pregnant?” he asked, stopping in his tracks.

“Of course not.” She pushed at his chest. “I’m careful. I’m going to go to college next year and then I’ll graduate and get a good job and get the fuck out of here. No babies for me.”

“So, why?”

“Because Owen Jacobson is a spoiled rich dick. He’s cute so I didn’t mind fucking him, but I heard him talking shit about me with his friends so I figured he may as well fund my tuition at Phoenix College.”

Jule slowly smiled and then he threw his head back and laughed. “How much did you get off him?”

“Five grand.”

“That’s awesome.”

“I know, right? For an abortion! I told him I had to fly to California and stay in a hotel, and he bought all of it. Didn’t even ask for proof. Honestly, I probably could have gotten more out of him, but this is enough to cover both years at PC, including books.”

“Well, hopefully he learned a lesson,” Jule said.

“That little bitch won’t learn a thing from a five-K loss. He probably got it from his mommy and daddy. A lunch tray to the face though…” She grinned at Jule.

“He deserved worse.”

“You broke his nose. I’d say we’re square.” They began walking again and then in a more somber tone, Maria said, “It’s good to see you smile again, Jule.”

“It’s good to smile again,” he said. “Let me know if you need me to fuck someone else up for you. It’s fun.”

“No way. At some point, Tor’ll come back. I don’t need him hearing that I helped you get into trouble. You swing a mean lunch tray, but Tor Dunworthy would find a way to ruin me silently and entirely. I don’t fuck with his kind of heat.” She shook her head. “Nuh uh. One broken nose victim is all you’re getting from me.”

He sighed. “I hope that happens soon.”

She understood what he meant. “Me too.”

Chapter 5– Age 18

“Hey, Jule. When’d you get here?”

Jule smacked his lips and opened his bleary eyes. “I don’t know. After midnight sometime. Couldn’t sleep.”

“You live in that fancy house and have your own room and clean sheets, and you come to this shithole to get rest?” Tyson asked.

He sat up and rubbed his hands over his eyes. “This is home.”

“Jesus, kid, you look like hell.”

“Feel like it too.”

Tyson sighed, walked over to him, and sat beside him on the couch. “Anyone know you’re here?”

“Of course not. I parked out back.” In his father’s old spot. It had been more than half a year since he was shot in that house, so it was no longer considered a crime scene, but the investigation was still active. If people saw Jule there, they’d have questions that nobody wanted to answer and he’d be on the radar of a psychopath, who was also apparently the head of a cartel, so Jule had to pretend he didn’t know this place and these people. His home. His family.

Nodding, Tyson said, “I saw your car when I walked in from the trailer.”

“I hate this.” He hated that his grandparents were sad. Hated that his mother had somehow gotten even more brittle. Hated that his father, messed up as he had been, was dead. Hated that he had to pretend to be someone else all the time now. But what he hated most of all was that he didn’t have Tor.