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“Yep,” he says, the letter p popping loudly.
“So, then what?”
“Nothing, man. Eli’s in jail and he left the Camaro to Keaton, along with all the bills and their mom’s medical debt.”
“Jesus.” I cradle my head and my free hand, rocking it side to side slowly.
“Yeah, it was hard for her. She was only nineteen, but the girl has come a long way.”
“Shit, that’s tough,” I say, feeling bad now for how shitty I’ve talked to her.
“So is she,” he says, and I can tell that he means it.
“I don’t doubt it.” I imagine the guts it would take to have to step up and take care of family matters that heavy at such a young age. I recall just how hard they were for me almost just as long ago.
“Listen, man, she’s got something I’ve only ever seen a few drivers have. It’s a gift. She drives smart, and fast as hell. She never backs down.” He pauses for a moment before continuing. “She drives like you.”
The weight of that compliment and the realization of just how much this girl has gone through hit me in the chest and makes it a little harder to breathe.
“So, she needs money for her mom?” I ask, summing everything up.
“Yeah, and I’d imagine a few other things as well.”
“And I just screwed all of that up for her.” I recall what she said that night, how I had absolutely no idea what I’d just cost her. And now I feel like a total dick.
“Yeah, kind of.” Milo’s chuckle echoes in my ear.
“Fuck,” I sigh loudly, dropping back into my seat again.
I have a lot more to make right with this girl than just fixing her car.
Chapter 14
After my morning shift at the Coffee House, Sander swung by during his lunch break to drop me off at home. Thankfully, he got a call from dispatch and couldn’t stay too long to talk.
I run inside and change my clothes before grabbing my messenger bag and bus pass. I really don’t think I’ll make it to the bus stop in time, but I have an hour and a half before the bank closes, so I should be able to walk there in time.
I hate having to pull money from my savings to pay Mateo, but I don’t want a repeat of the other day. It’s easy enough to just transfer the money into his account and call it a day.
I have accounts at two separate banks. The one we used for the loan, and then the one I use for my personal account. That way, when the payments for the loan are past due, they don’t have access to my accounts to pull the money out themselves.
It’s a little further out of the way, but it saves me a lot of grief in the long run.
I’ve only had one person at my bank so far question the number of times I’ve transferred money into Mateo’s account, and thankfully I got away with telling them that he was a family friend who I was paying back for helping with my mom’s medical bills. Of course, they all thought he was a saint, when really, he walks around like a devil.
I just slip my shoes on when a knock sounds at the front door.
Ma is laying down, and I don’t normally get visitors at the house, so I panic a little, wondering who it could be.
It can’t be Mateo, I tell myself repeatedly, but after the other day, I’m not so sure.
Whoever it is knocks again, and I reach for the doorknob before they wake her.
I swing the door open and stop dead in my tracks.
What. The. Hell?
Bodhi Kane is standing on my doorstep, hands tucked into the front pockets of his light blue jeans, a white T-shirt stretched across his broad chest, and a sheepish smile plastered to his stupid face.
