Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Inside each one there would be a quarter in the change purse and a ten-dollar bill tucked away.
Sadly, both the quarters and the ten dollars were long gone. I ran my fingers over the ones my dad had given me once I moved. They were even more outrageous than the rest—his thinking, no doubt, now I was in the city, I needed an even wilder wallet. His sense of style was pretty bad. To him, the louder the plaid, the dressier the shirt. I had to laugh, thinking of some of his “dress shirts” that I now used on occasion to throw over the top of T-shirts.
I picked up a wallet, smiling at the number of zippers and pockets it contained.
I looked at them scattered on my bed, an idea forming. I wondered if I could sell them to a pawn shop. Surely ten wallets would give me enough cash to get a bus ticket? I hated the thought of selling them since my dad had given them to me, but it made sense. Besides, if I pawned them, I could come back to the city and buy them back once I had some cash.
I swallowed at the emotion I was feeling. My dad would understand, I assured myself. He would want me to sell them.
Idly, I picked up another wallet, opening the zipper, remembering how my brother would keep his quarter and ten dollars in the lining of his wallet for emergencies. That was where my dad kept his too. For years, I’d kept the quarter, but eventually it, too, was spent. I was about to close the wallet when I felt a small thickening in the lining. Curious, I ran my finger over it again. There was something inside. I slid my finger around, finding a loose edge, and delved under the satin interface. A folded bill fell out, and I stared down in shock at the fifty lying on the bed. With shaking fingers, I picked it up, recognizing my dad’s handwriting on the Post-it note attached.
If you found it, I hope it helps. Love you.
Fifty dollars. He had slipped fifty dollars into the lining. I looked at the wallet again. It was the last one he had given me. Scrambling, I placed all the wallets in order, then I examined them all. The ones he’d given me before I left home were empty, but the three I’d gotten after I moved each contained hidden cash and a little note.
I began to weep. I had one hundred and fifty dollars. In the grand scheme of life, nothing, but right now, a fortune.
Enough to escape from this city and start again. It also meant I could keep these silly little wallets with me.
I checked the bus schedule, noting there was another bus Friday to Lomand. It left at ten in the morning. I only had to make it through tomorrow, and I could leave on Friday. That meant I just had to get through one more day. I had enough cash to get a motel room overnight once I got there and to buy something to eat. Saturday, I could catch the bus as it went through Lomand and get off in Littleburn. Once I was there, Cycleman would pick me up.
I racked my brain, trying to recall Terry’s schedule. He was always in the basement early on Friday morning, getting the garbage ready for the truck. As soon as I saw him leave, I could go. He would never know.
I’d be gone before he figured it out and wait at the bus station.
I’d be safe.
I cast my gaze upward. “Thanks, Daddy.”
Chapter 5
CHARLYNN
I stayed up well into the early morning on Thursday, making sure I had everything packed I wanted to take with me. I had Friday planned—as soon as I heard Terry go past my door and the stairwell door shut, I would head in the other direction. He would be busy for at least an hour—usually more. I had certainly heard him complaining about the amount of time it took him to “take out the trash.” I wished he would add himself to the pile.
By the time he finished and came back upstairs, I’d be long gone.
I fell asleep for a while, waking up when I heard my door rattling. Angry, I got up and went down the hall.
“Get away from my door, or I’m calling the cops, asshole. I am not interested in your offer,” I shouted, getting my stuff ready.
“Then you owe me rent.”
“It’s not the end of the month. I have until next week. Leave me alone, or I’m serious, I will call the cops. I’ll tell them you’re attempting to break in to my apartment.”
His answer was low and threatening. “You think they’d believe you? The girl who claimed she was ripped off by an unknown roommate? A girl I was simply checking on since she hasn’t paid her rent in three months and I’ve been so nice to let it slide?” He barked out a laugh that made me shiver. “Good luck with that.”