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It doesn't comfort the eels squirming in my guts. Each day I walk closer to damnation, justifying every terrible act I commit by swearing I'll repent later. I'm scared there won't a later.

If they try to screw me over by not bringing the letter, I won't give them anything.It's the only back-up plan I have. I don't trust these guys, but at this stage I'm out of options. I'm not going to make it easy for them to rob me again, though. I learned my lesson.

The door swings inward. I hear the bell go off, but my eyes are on the men already as they enter. Chico comes first, then Jake. They spot me, then glance around the shop, confirming we're alone. “You guys came,” I say, sounding more relieved than I mean to.

“'Course we did,” Chico grunts.

“You got the money?” Jake asks. His hands are deep in the pockets of his baggy jeans, his red track-jacket zipped up to his skinny neck.

I draw myself to my full height. I'm eye to eye with Jake. Chico, squat and muscular, stands by the door watching us. “Show me the letter first," I say.

“Why? You're the one who made the deal,” Jake argues.

Chico asks, "Don't you trust us to keep our word?"

“No,” I say firmly. “I want proof.”

“Shit, fine, whatever,” Chico grumbles. “Show it to her, Jake.”

Knotting his eyebrows, Jake slides a hand out of his back pocket, revealing a small square of paper. I reach for it, but he yanks it back. “Money. Now.”

"How do I know that's the letter Dez gave you?"

"You don't, I guess."

"Let me see inside. I want to read some of it, then I'll give you the money."

Jake hunches toward me, both hands in view now. He starts to peel the edge of the envelope open. I watch eagerly, fixated on what he's doing. Then he smiles, stops what he's doing. He's enjoying having my full attention. Jake is as power hungry as Dezmond. "Show me the cash, Lori."

Cringing in frustration I debate my options. Letting them catch wind of my desperation isn't wise, but it might be too late to put it back in the bottle. In a cool voice I say, "Put it on the counter, near the register. Then I'll put the money down and we'll trade."

"I dunno," Jake chuckles. "I was thinking, how do we get insurance?"

"Insurance?"

"You promised us ten grand every month. How the hell do we make sure that happens?"

“I don't know,” I admit. “I guess the fact I live here? I can't pack up my mom and this store and run away.” I laugh humorlessly, holding my belly as a new flood of acid attacks. I'll have an ulcer before this is done.

Chico shoots a mean glare at Jake. "Dude, just get on with it."

Jake pulls a face; he wants to have more fun taunting me. But he relents, approaching the counter to set the envelope there. He holds my gaze, two fingers trapping the paper in place as if it could fly away the second he lets go. "Let's do this," he chuckles.

There's a body length between me and the letter. I lick my dry lips, itching to sprint forward and grab the white rectangle. The thumping in my temples grows.What if it's not real? What if it is? What if there are copies?And suddenly my plan feels scattered. “How do I know it's the real thing?” I ask.

Chico looks over his shoulder out the front window. “You don't,” he says, shrugging.

I search their faces, trying to read them.If it's a trick, I lose two grand.But if it's real … the potential reward is too great. It outweighs the shame of looking like a fool.

Adrenaline vibrates through me, as if I've taken a bite from a live wire. I glance at my reflection in the big window, surprised to see my hair isn't standing on end. I can swear I'm magnetized.Is this how my father felt when he was gambling? How he got hooked to the nervous rush?

Fishing out the money from the apron, I slap it on the counter, reaching for the envelope.

Jake's hand comes down on mine. He locks our eyes, frowning severely. “Not so fast,” he says. All the malicious humor has evaporated. Jake loved toying with me, but now, he's done playing.

The door opens a third time. Dezmond strolls inside, his grin all teeth; a shark who wandered onto dry land ready to taste blood. “Hey, babe,” he says. “You've got some balls.”

My heart shrinks. But worse, I'm not even shocked. Not as much as I want to be. Of course, these assholes would set me up. It was insane to expect anything less.