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“Guy that got the worst of it looked real rough the next day.”

He snorts, flexing his fingers. “He didn't getmyworse. It was a misunderstanding. After all, he did get the cash he owed to me like you promised he would. Just took him some extra time.”

“I paid the interest,” I say miserably.

“Yeah. You did. You pay everything for him, like a good little cash cow.”

Curling my upper lip, I stare at him with my eyebrows lowered. “I'm not anyone's cash cow.”

“Don't act so offended.” Shrugging lightly, Alemo leans on the desk. “I told you, lot of guys around here would do anything for a woman like you. Don't treat it as an insult.” He side-eyes me, smirking. “Own it, Lorikeet. Money is power to dirt bags like us.”

My mouth drops open; I'm trying to digest his words, barely listening as the officer rattles something off to me. She's sliding me papers, telling me to sign. I do it in a daze.Money is power.I pass her back the documents. The officer shuffles from behind the desk, moving to talk to another uniformed man by the double doors across the room. I speak to Alemo under my breath. “Do you think dirt bags would turn on each other if the price was right?”

He smiles, looking everywhere but at me. “I once watched a man stab his best friend because the guy threw an MMA fight. He'd bet twenty grand on his friend winning.” He rolls his eyes towards me. The depth of callousness in his pupils makes me shudder. “One of those men is in a grave now. Other is still gambling happily. Neither was in the right; they just did what they wanted to get a fatter wallet. Do I think men like me … men like them,” he says, glancing at the double doors where the officers are leading Jake and Chico through, “would turn on each other for money? 'Course they would. It's the way of the world.”

I walk away from the desk, meeting the woman and the two men as they approach. Chico is wearing the same gray-joggers and white shirt I saw him getting arrested in. Jake has somehow gotten hold of a different outfit—orange, long sleeves, matching pants. It's what I've seen inmates wearing while picking up trash on the side of the road.

Both share one thing, though—expressions of disbelief. “Where's Dez?” Chico asks.

“He sent me to get you out of here,” I reply.

“I knew you liked us,” Jake chuckles, winking. Neither one is handcuffed anymore. He puts an arm out, pulling me in for a rough hug; he smells like sanitation supplies, the acridness making my eyes water. Did he throw up or get in a fight? I can't think of other reasons he'd need new clothes and a wash.

The officers watch us curiously, whispering to each other. With a small smile, I say, “You two look like hell. Let's go.”

“Shit, you're gonna be our taxi too?” Chico asks. He tugs at the collar of his shirt. “I do need a fucking shower though. Been sleeping in these clothes for too long.”

The three of us walk together to the exit. As we pass Alemo, he shoots me a look that dissects me down to my bones. He's not my friend. Not a good person. But his cynicism resonates with me.

Dirt bags will turn on each other if the price is right.

Jake groans when we step into the fresh sunshine, his long arms stretching upwards, shoulders flexing as he twists side to side to crack his spine. “Well, thanks for bailing us out, Lori. It's a shame we missed your hitch with Dez.”

“Why were you guys arrested?” I ask.

Jake shrugs without answering.

Chico spits onto the cement, right next to the back tire of a parked cop car. “Bullshit warrant. Some bitch keeps trying to get back support from me for a kid that ain’t mine. She had my license taken away, which is insane, 'cause how am I supposed to drive to work and pay any of the fake bills she says I owe if I don't have a license?”

“Oh,” I say. I want to say something less polite but hold my tongue.

“She's definitely not as nice as you,” Chico adds, grinning, one of his silver teeth glinting.

Acid fills my mouth in disgust. I smile happily, saying, “Here's my car. And thanks, I do try to be helpful when I can. It's weird Dez couldn't take the time to come help you guys himself. Kind of…well,not nice,I guess.”

Jake rips open my passenger door, but before he climbs in, he stares at me over the roof. “Wait, he wasn't busy with something?”

“What would he be busy with?” I ask.

“Makin' money,” Chico offers.

“Why would he bother?” I make a face, blinking innocently. “I'm rich, right? That's why he has me taking care of things. You guyshaveheard about my dad. I thought everyone had.”

They share a look. Jake says, “So you're loaded for real. I figured, but I dunno.”

“I knew,” Chico says defensively.

They get in my car, neither buckling in as I start the engine, driving us onto the main road. I shoot looks in the rear-view mirror, little glances at Jake beside me.I think I'm priming them decently.My heart is racing, and I have to keep myself from accidentally breaking the speed limit. “Chico's place, or yours, Jake?”