Page 4 of Pack of Crooks

“How much?” I demand, counting the bills out loud. “I can give you two hundred dollars.”

He rolls his eyes. “Take it up with the bank.”

Dammit. “Fine. Three hundred.” I hold out the money toward him. That’s the most I can offer. Lottie needs to eat.

“Listen, I don’t make the rules. You took out the loan. If you can’t pay it, the bank can take the vehicle back. That’s how credit works.”

“Thanks for mansplaining,” I mutter. Hot moisture pools at the edges of my eyes as Lottie clutches my arm. Her faint honey scent is usually comforting, but today it’s simply a reminder of how terrible I am at taking care of her.

“Hazel?” she whispers.

“Stupid, ugly bitch. You think you’re so smart,” Mom snarls.

I try to ignore those vicious memories, but Mom’s words always had a way of sneaking past my defenses. Death by a thousand cuts.

“Are you sure you have to do this?” I try again, but my heart is already sinking.

“Sign here.” Josh shoves a clipboard in my face.

“Please.” Lottie’s voice trembles.

“You think you’re so much better than me?”

“Oh my god,” someone passing by whispers. “They’re taking their car.”

“How sad,” another person says.

Yeah, you’re preaching to the choir here, buddy. My life is basically one, massively insignificant, miserable existence. It’s not always terrible, but it’s definitely been more bad than good. Normally I can put on a brave face for Lottie. But today, with the weight of responsibility pressing down on me and memories of arguments with mom hitting me hard, pretending everything is okay seems impossible.

With blurred vision, I scribble my name and push the papers back in the tow truck driver’s direction.

“Keys?” Josh demands.

I dig them out of my pocket and hand them over with slow reluctance. He grunts and takes them, carefully avoiding my hand like he’s worried I’ll grab him. As I watch the tow company employee drive our old but reliable little Honda onto the platform, I can’t stop the vicious self-loathing that tears through my mind.

I’ve failed at everything. I was determined to get ahead. I swore I’d be better at managing money than Mom. That we wouldn’t go through this type of thing again. My chest tightens as Josh gives me a pitying shake of his head. He climbs into his tow truck and drives away, taking the last of my dignity with him.

Mom’s voice in my head is strangely quiet, but I’m tearing myself apart enough for the both of us.

Lottie sniffs beside me.

Muscles rigid, I glance down at her, battling my own tears. “It’s okay, Lottie. We don’t need a car anyway.”

Strands of her blonde hair, the exact color of mine, tease the wind. “Cheer competitions?—”

People skirt around us, casting pitiful stares. My skin crawls with their attention, millions of insects skittering over me as my lungs squeeze all the air from my body.

Forcing a smile, I shrug. “We’ll figure it out. I’ll find a better job.” Right now, Lottie thinks I work part-time at a coffee shop.

Lottie shakes her head. “I should drop out.”

“No.”

She recoils at my harsh tone.

Turning, I hold her hands, eyes suddenly dry and determination filling me. “Do you trust me?”

Her own eyes wide, she nods.