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No matter where they ran, Scott always found them. He always came for Shy. He didn’t even want her. He just wanted to use her to get back in his parents’ good graces. He was their only son.
She was their only granddaughter. They didn’t really care for her. The only thing they cared about was their family’s legacy. And the only thing Scott cared about was getting his trust fund back so he could waste it on drugs.
If he couldn’t get it back, he’d just go back to his original plan: trying to pimp out his daughter. Right now, Criss really wished her dad was able to return to the States. If he did, he’d be arrested. But Criss could surely use his help right now.
“Is he gone?” Shy whispered.
“He is.”
“Do we have to move again?”
Criss sighed. Shy had finally started to make friends at school. Normally, Shy kept to herself. At this school, she’d opened up a little. She talked more. She had two friends who she stayed up past her bedtime talking on the phone to.
That was what normal kids did. Criss really wanted Shy to have a normal life. She wanted to provide a stable home for her niece. She wanted her niece to make friends and excel at school. Right now, that wasn’t possible.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. But, yeah, we have to move again.”
Shy started crying harder. Damn, she wished her dad was around. One word, and he’d take care of her Scott problem for them. Problem was, her father was more of a monster than Scott was.
He was wanted by the FBI and a dozen other organizations. She couldn’t go to him for help. The only person she could depend on was herself. She would figure out a way to keep what was left of her family safe. Somehow.
As she held her niece close, she prayed for a way out of her predicament.
A few days later…
Cristal hated house hunting.
Moving wasn’t cheap. If she wanted to relocate her family again, she needed money. Lots of it. Why the hell did realtors need first month’s rent, deposit and last month’s rent? Who had that much money on them at one time? Geez.
Cristal tossed her cell phone down on her bed. She’d resume house searching next week. This weekend, she needed to focus on making money at Private Affairs. This past week’s paycheck had gone to installing an alarm system in their house.
No, they wouldn’t be living there much longer. However, while they were there, she needed to make sure they were safe. She was lucky Scott had broken into her house only a few minutes before she’d gotten home.
Even luckier he hadn’t had time to go upstairs and take Shy. Next time, she may not be so lucky. Which was why they needed an alarm system. They’d be eating grilled cheese sandwiches and off-brand chips for a few weeks because of the expensive ass system.
But, Criss was okay with that. Plus, Shy loved grilled cheese sandwiches. Criss was toying with the idea of keeping some of the money she made at the club. Con didn’t know exactly how much she made.
If she kept a little here and there, he’d never know. Plus, she’d be moving in a few weeks. Soon, she’d never have to see his face again. She doubted he’d look for her. Yeah, he’d be pissed, but he wouldn’t waste his time trying to find her.
Cristal stared down at the clothes on her bed. She couldn’t believe she’d let Angelina talk her into buying three outfits. Three outfits that barely fit. Three outfits that revealed more than they concealed.
She would be pissed to the highest level of pisstivity if she didn’t make more tips while wearing this trash. She needed to make enough to give Con his cut while keeping a little for herself.
She shuddered to think of what he’d do if he knew she was keeping some of the money for herself. Oh well. What Con didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Or her. Hopefully. Hands on her hips, she continued staring down at the clothes.
Angelina was wrong, this shit was not going to look good on her. Yeah, it fit. And yeah, it complimented her curves. Yet, it was too tight, too revealing, too… not her. It wasn’t her style.
Wearing this shit, she would feel self-conscious all night. Criss strode to her closet and began looking through her clothes. She’d feel better in her old stuff. Then again, her old stuff hadn’t gotten her much tips.
“Fucking shit!” She yelled out, frustrated.
“Swear jar,” a voice from down the hall screamed. Shy.
“Sorry,” Criss called out.
“One dollar,” Granny yelled from her own bedroom.
“Shit,” Criss whispered as she went to her purse and pulled out a dollar. She took the dollar to Shy’s room. The swear jar was on her niece’s dresser.
