Ten Tiny Breaths (Ten Tiny Breaths #1)(22)

“Cain set me up with the apartment and I’ve been here ever since, hoarding all my money until I have enough to buy a house with cash. If all goes well, I’ll be out of the club scene for good in another two or three years.” She adds softly, “and my parents don’t have to be ashamed of me anymore.”

I snort. “Tell me about it. My parents would be rolling in their graves if they knew where I’m working …” My voice drifts off into an awkward silence, mentally chastising myself for bringing them up.

“Hey, Kacey?” There’s that cautious, nervous Storm voice again and my shoulders tense. I know exactly where this is going. “Look, I’ve pieced together a few things—your parents are dead, I think it has something to do with alcohol ... you have a lot of scars. You don’t like people touching your hands …”

I don’t let her finish. I open the door and rush out.

I decide that Storm is brilliant. A regular f**king rocket scientist.

Chapter Five

“Air conditioning!” I moan, peeling my sheets from my sweaty body. We need real friggin’ curtains, I think to myself, as I glare at the airy scraps hanging in front of the window. They do nothing to stop the sun from beating in. We haven’t had air conditioning since before my parents died. Aunt Darla didn’t believe in paying for cool air when there are starving kids in the world. Or husbands with gambling problems. Now that we live in Miami, I don’t know how it’s not illegal.

Livie and Mia are in the kitchen, humming ‘pop goes the weasel’ as they empty a brown bags’ worth of groceries. “Good afternoon!” Livie sings when she sees me.

“Good afternoon!” Mia echoes.

I check the clock. Almost one. They’re right. It is afternoon. I haven’t slept in that late in forever.

“I picked up food. There’s money on the counter there.” Livie’s chin directs me to a small pile of bills. “I had to argue Storm down to half of what she wanted to pay me.”

I smile. Storm swears she’s found her angels. I’m sure that we’ve found ours. I need to cut my bullshit with her, I decide, then and there. I don’t know how, but I need to. Strolling over to grab the money from my purse, I slap the thick envelope onto the table. “Bam! Take that!”

“Holy Sh …” Livie’s wide eyes pass from the stack of money to Mia’s curious face “… shnikies! You just served drinks … right?”

So Livie figured it out on her own. I c**k my head and narrow my eyes, pausing for effect as if I'm in deep thought. “Define serving drinks.” I chuckle as I pull out the OJ from the fridge and chug straight from the bottle, feeling her glower at my back. “I’m kidding! Yes, just drinks. And an ass sandwich for one lucky grabber.” Mia’s brows spike and I wince, mouthing “sorry” to a scowling Livie. It’s quickly forgotten though as she flips through the wad of money with her thumb. “Holy cow.”

“I know, right?” I know I have a stupid grin on my face and I don’t care. This might work. We might survive. We might not have to eat cat food.

Livie looks up with a secretive smile.

“What?”

She pauses, then, “Nothing I just … you’re giddy.” She bites into a baby carrot. “It’s nice.”

Mia mimics her, scrunching her nose like a rabbit as she chews. “It’s nice,” she parrots.

I steal one from the bag, smash a giant kiss on Livie’s cheek, and then swagger toward the bathroom.

“I’ll be in the shower while you count all our money. And remind me to phone Starbucks and quit, okay?” There’s no way I’m going back to minimum wage. No way in Hell.

***

I don’t care that there’s no pressure. I don’t care that the water has a funky chlorinated scent to it. I simply close my eyes and massage a thick layer of shampoo into my scalp, inhaling its rosy fragrance. For the first time since stealing off into the night with Livie, I think I can do this. I can take care of us. I’m old enough, strong enough, smart enough. My issues won’t hold us back. Everything will be alright. We’ll come out of it clean and strong and …

An odd soft rattling sound pulls me from my revelry. Cracking a lid, I spot red, black, and white stripes coiled around the pipe above the shower head. Two beady little eyes stare intently at me.

It takes a whole second for me to scream. Once I do, I can’t stop. Scrambling backward to slam against the opposite wall, I don’t know how I manage to stay upright, but I do. The snake doesn’t move. It sits in the exact same spot, shaking its tail and staring at me. Like its deciding how it’ll fit its jaws around my head to swallow me whole. I continue shrieking as I hear Livie’s panicked voice behind the door, but it doesn’t register. Her pounding doesn’t register.

Nothing registers.

Suddenly there’s a loud crack and sound of wood splintering. “Kacey!” Livie shrieks as a set of strong arms swoop in to pull me out. A towel quickly lands on me and I’m being whisked out of the bathroom and into my bedroom.

“I hate snakes. I hate snakes. Fuck! I hate snakes!” I repeat over and over again to no one and everyone. A hand smooths my hair. Not until my heart rate slows to a semi-normal range and I stop shaking am I able to focus on my surroundings.