Page 4 of Healer’s Betrayal

“I paid on time,” I argue.

He lets go of my arm, but before I can feel relief, he grabs me by my hair and forces me to stand and look him in the eye. “Everyone in this building that wants to stay here and be...safe,” he pauses on the word. “Pays me. So, new girl, you’re about,” he pauses. “Three hundred short.”

I stare at him, mouth agape. He tightens his hold on my hair. “I don’t have an extra three hundred.”

He pulls. Hard. Then he glances behind me. “He’ll do as collateral until you do.” He nods towards Noah, and my heart nearly bursts.

“No!” I face him and let him see the anger in my eyes. “You touch him, you don’t get a penny!”

The guy stares at me as a slow smile builds. “The kitten has claws.” He releases my hair and steps back. “You have twenty-four hours. And because you’re late with your payment, you owe an extra hundred. I’ll be back tomorrow night to collect.” He glances meaningfully at Noah, and I step into his line of sight, blocking Noah from his view. He smiles that cold smile at me. “I’ll be back tomorrow night.” He turns around and then stops before turning back. “Oh, and have a good night.”

I watch until both men are across the parking lot before I turn and push Noah forward. “Let’s go.” He doesn’t have to be told twice, and he races up the stairs. I follow him up the rickety old steps to the second floor and then up another set to the third floor. When we get to our door, my hands are shaking too badly to get my key to work.

“I’ll do it.” Noah takes the key from me and puts it in the lock. I glance behind me one last time before I close and lock the door. I lean my forehead against the door a moment and try to remember how to breathe. “Are you okay, Kayla?”

Noah’s soft voice brings me back to reality. I force my heart rate to slow, and I compartmentalize. We’re okay; we're safe. I slowly turn around and then because I can’t help myself, I pull Noah close and hold him tight. He lets me for a long moment before pulling away. “Are you okay?” I ask him softly.

“I’m fine.” He looks up at me, his eyes so solemn. “Does it hurt?”

I know he’s talking about my arm. “It’s fine.”

He stares up at me. “Can you heal it?”

I suck in a breath. “Noah.”

“Can you?” he persists.

I swallow. “No.” My voice is nearly a whisper. “I can’t.”

“Did you try?” he pushes.

“No. I can’t heal myself. But Noah, you know we’re not supposed to talk about that.” It’s one of the few rules I make him keep. We don’t talk about my healing abilities, ever.

He starts towards his bed, an air mattress on the other side of the small studio apartment, and I let him go. He sits on his mattress and pulls out his headphones, the cheap ones I managed to purchase on Amazon. He plugs them in to his tablet, another splurge I made once I started getting paid. It’s an old tablet, but it works.

“Do you want to eat dinner?” I ask.

“I’m not hungry.”

I’m ready to argue with him when I realize I no longer have the box of fried chicken Butch sent home with us. I feel tears begin to form, and I close my eyes, wanting to roll my eyes at myself. Of all the horrible things that happened tonight, losing the fried chicken is going to be what makes me cry. I force the tears away and make my way over to our small refrigerator. I look inside and take in the meager items; the cupboards are nearly just as bare. I was planning on going grocery shopping tonight, but that was out once my car bit the dust. My car. I drop a hand to the edge of the counter and squeeze. Three hundred to this guy and then a car bill. I’ll be broke. I look at my bank account on my phone. I have six hundred; I’ve been doing everything I can to save. And now, it looks like we won’t even have enough to pay our bills or pay for food. Again. I stand up and walk over to the bathroom and close the door behind me. This is the one place I can fall apart, the only place Noah can’t see me. I sit on the floor and wrap my arms around my legs. Every time I try to get ahead, something happens. I drop my head back against the wall. My stomach growls, but I ignore it. A sense of helplessness bubbles up, but I ruthlessly squash it. “We made it out,” I remind myself. Life might be tough right now, but we’re free. And that’s what counts. I take a deep breath and force my fear deep down. After washing my face, I take two ibuprofen for the pain that‘s probably coming. I leave the bathroom and spend a few minutes straightening up our apartment, not that there’s much to clean. It’s small, and we don’t have much to our names. At least it makes it easy to clean.

After a little while, I make my way over to Noah. “Hey, it’s Monday night. Shower night.”

“Don’t want to.”

“You have to.” I don’t give in. “Let’s go.” He does his tablet a little longer. “Noah.”

He finally tosses his iPad on his bed. “Fine.” I watch him all the way to the shower, just to make sure he goes in before I start getting ready for bed. There won’t be enough hot water for both of us to take a shower tonight, so I’ll get one in the morning. I change into pajamas and get settled on my own air mattress on the opposite side of our small apartment. I plug in my phone, so it can charge and pull up my Kindle app. A sense of gratitude fills me. I’m thankful for my phone. It’s an older model, but it works. For that I’m so grateful. I’m also grateful for a safe place to sleep. After almost two months of being on the run and staying in shelters, it’s been nice to have our own place. I hold up my phone and grimace at the pain in my arm. I knew it would hurt eventually, and I’m glad I took pills when I did. I think back to the two guys that threatened us and decide to just pay the money. I know it’s the exact wrong thing to do, but we need this apartment. If that’s what we have to do to stay, then that’s what we’ll do. Maybe they really will see to it that we’re protected here. I can’t imagine anybody would ever stand up to those two scary dudes.

Noah finally comes out of the bathroom and climbs into his bed. I walk over to his bed and sit on the floor next to him. “Ready to read?” He doesn’t say anything, but he nods. I’ll take it. I open my Kindle again and open to the book we’ve been reading at night. We’ve been working our way through a book list I found online—fifty books every kid should read before high school. Tonight, we’re reading The Cricket in Times Square. We’ve been enjoying it, or at least, I have. I mean what’s better than a cricket playing classical music in Times Square or a matchbox bed? Noah holds himself stiffly at first, but eventually, he rolls towards me as he listens. Reading these books to Noah hasn’t fixed any of our problems; but for a few minutes each night, we forget about our reality as we’re transported to another world. That’s what books do; they let us leave reality behind for just a little while. They let us feel hope and remind us that we’re more than the summation of our problems. We can root for the good guys and cheer when the bad guys get what’s coming to them. We can celebrate when the main character finally gets a breakthrough or finishes their quest.

When I don’t think I can keep my eyes open any longer, I finish the chapter and put my phone down. “Don’t forget, I won’t be here in the morning when you wake up. Renee will be here.” He nods. “I love you, Noah. Get some sleep.”

“Love you too.” His quiet words follow me as I head to my bed for the night. I climb under my blankets and remind myself tomorrow is another day, a new day.

Chapter 3

Kayla