Until Trevor (Until, #2)(21)
“So you don’t have a drug problem? You’re addicted to gambling?” I want to make sure I’m hearing him right.
“Yes,” he says softly.
“Why didn’t you talk to me or Mom?”
“What was I supposed to say? I have a gambling problem, and I need money to pay off a loan shark that I stole from?”
“You could have started with that.”
“Are you listening to me at all?”
“Yes!” I yell into the phone. “I'm listening to you. I almost lost my business; I did lose my apartment. I had to get a job at a strip club to try and come up with the money that was due on my business loan.”
“You work at a strip club?” I could hear the anger in his voice.
“I did, until Trevor made me quit, and Mike gave me the money to pay my bills.”
“Mike let you work for him?”
“Are you listening to yourself right now, Tim? You have no right to be mad. I had to work there because of you.”
“I know. But Jesus, Liz, what the f*ck?”
“Don’t worry about it. I'm not working there anymore. Tim, Mike gave me that money, so you’re going to have to find a way to pay him back. You need to come home.”
“I can’t come home right now.”
“Why not?”
“I told you that I was going to pay the guy off that I borrowed from. Well, I did, but he wants interest on the money. I can’t come home until I find a way to get it for him.”
“Tim, stop being stupid and come home. Get a job; maybe you can work for Mike.”
“I don’t want to bring the shit that’s following me to town, Sis.”
“How much money is it that you owe?” I ask, doing calculations in my head, trying to think of what I might have to give.
“Ten G’s.”
“What the f*ck, Tim?” I yell, and then cover my mouth. “You stole over twenty from me. Did you give it all to him, or did you snort it or shoot it up? I mean, that’s a lot of money.”
“I know. That’s why I was calling. I wanted to see if you could loan me the money. I would pay him off, then come home.”
“Tim, I'm not going to send you that kind of money. I don’t even have that kind of money. Just come home and we can figure something out. We can, I just don’t know what will work. I’ll talk to Trevor,” I say, wondering if I really would talk to Trevor. He is already pissed at my brother; this would only add to his list of reasons to dislike him.
“What the f*ck does Trevor Mayson have to do with this shit?”
“We’re dating, and he has a construction company. Maybe you could work for him.”
“You’re dating Trevor Mayson? Are you f*cking stupid?”
“You owe a loan shark lots of money; are you f*cking stupid?” Crap. I didn’t mean to say that. I close my eyes, taking a breath. “Look, I like him, and we’re seeing each other.”
“I'm going to see if I can make it to town. I’ll talk to Mike and see if I can work something out with him.”
“You need to fix this,” I whisper, tears clouding my eyes.
“I haven’t gambled in a few days, okay?” Is that what all addicts say so they can avoid talking about their problems?
“Where are you now?”
“I'm with a friend. I'm sorry, Sis. I never meant for this to happen.”
“Just come home, Tim. Mom’s getting married in a few weeks; she’s going to be expecting you to walk her down the aisle.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Please, come home,” I whisper into dead air. I pull the phone away from my ear, knowing he hung up. I send a silent prayer up to whoever is listening, wipe the tears from my eyes, and start cleaning up the stock room.
*~*~*
“What about that one?” Trevor asks, pointing at a small, fluffy, white dog. I know most girls would go gaga over the small little ball of fur, but to me, he looks like he could get lost easily in my messy room.
“I don’t know,” I say, looking up at Trevor. His hand comes to the back of my head, twisting in my hair; my lips part right before he kisses me. “What was that for?” I breathe, when his mouth leaves mine.
“You look adorable right now,” he smiles, pulling me under his arm, walking us down the long row of dog cages. We drove to the nearest ASPCA after he told me that I didn’t have a choice, and that we were going to pick out a dog whether I liked it or not. So I told him that the only way we were getting a dog was if we adopted one that needed a home. “What about him?” he asks, stopping in front of a cage with a dog that could fit in my pocket and should be on a Taco Bell commercial.
“Um…” I bite my lip and look up at him again. “Do you like small dogs or something?” Every dog he’s stopped to look at has been small.
He shrugs, looking around. “No, I just thought that girls liked small dogs.”
“Trevor, I don’t need a dog right now. I need to find another apartment; even then, I don’t know if I will be allowed to have a dog.”
“First of all, it will be our dog; second of all, you don’t need to find an apartment; you’re staying at Mike’s until you’re ready to move in with me.” All the air in my lungs pushes out. I look at Trevor and he is looking around like he didn’t just tell me that we were going to be living together. Instead, he looks like he just told me what kind of coffee he prefers. “What about him?” he asks, dragging me behind him. My legs are like jelly; I still haven’t taken a breath. I feel lightheaded. When did this relationship start moving at the speed of light? I stumble behind him, my legs taking a second to catch up with me. When we stop, I was looking the opposite direction of him. My eyes land on a giant black dog, and when our eyes meet, its head tilts to the side. I follow and do the same head tilt. We stare at each other for a few seconds before it puts one giant paw up on the door of its cage. I lift my hand, walking towards the dog. When it whines, I know it is the one. I hadn’t even wanted a dog, but know that this guy, or girl, is mine.