2 - Eat my own shit

VEE’S POV

Just when I thought things could not get worse, it just did. I always thought my father’s gambling would get him into trouble, but I was wrong. His gambling did not get him into trouble, it got I and my sister into trouble.

Where the fuck am I supposed to get fifty thousand from? I have never even seen that much money in my entire life.

"Fifty grand?” Vera screeched, her eyeballs threatening to pop out of the socket. “Where are we supposed to get that kind of money from?”

Valkor strolled casually to where Vera stood, and traced his gun on her cheeks. “Don’t worry about the money, I have a line up of men that will pay good money to get a piece of your sweet ass,” he licked his lower lip, a simple gesture that filled me with disgust.

Without thinking, I pulled Vera behind me. “We will pay you your money,” I blurted, surprising even myself.

Where did the courage even come from? I didn’t even have a job!

Valkor chuckled dryly. “Okay. Okay.”

“We just need a little time to put the money together.” Shut up Vee!

“I’ll give you time,” he said, tucking the gun behind his trousers. “Hell, you can even pay in two installments.”

“Thank you,” I muttered while letting out the air I didn’t know I was holding in.

“I will back tomorrow night for my money. You better have the first installment by tomorrow.”

My eyes widened in shock. “Tomorrow is too soon.”

“Or I can just take you both to my brothel right now. Your choice,” he shrugged casually.

“We will have your money tomorrow,” Vera finally spoke from behind me.

He nodded, then cast Vera a look I can’t quite describe, but I suspect was supposed to be flirtatious.

Valkor walked away, with his goons following closely behind him. As soon as the door slammed shut, panick shot through me.

What they hell did my father get us into? How am I supposed to raise twenty-five thousand in less than Twenty four hours?

Without much time to sit around and sulk, I dashed into the small bedroom I shared with Vera, stuck my finger into the hidden space on the floor just behind the bed and pulled out my little saving box.

I had been putting some money away every time I got paid, saving to get enough money to get out of this wretched town, where only bad things seemed to happen to me. I should have at least three thousand dollars saved up.

I scrunched my brow as the box felt lighter than usual. I popped the top open.

My chest tightened as my trembling fingers dropped the empty box to the ground.

No, no, no. This cannot be happening right about now. I picked up the box again, peering into it to be sure that my life savings was completely gone.

Vera!

I dashed into the sitting room again, were Vera was chugging more wine down. I threw the empty box into her lap.

“Where is it?”

She looked up at me feigning ignorance. “Where’s what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me Vera! I had three grand in there. I am sure it did not just walk away.”

Vera sighed. “Fine. I borrowed it.”

You have got to be kidding me! “Borrowed?”

“Yes, borrowed. I swear I was going to put it back. But…”

“What did you use the money for?”

“I told you I had my eyes on this modelling gig that would have paid me a butt load of money, but to get the gig I had to look like a serious model. So I borrowed the money to get the clothes,” she explained, shrugging her shoulders like it was no big deal she took my money without asking.

“You needed the entire money to buy clothes?”

She flung her hair out of her face, a simple gesture that made my blood boil even more. “Well, yeah.”

I let out a frustrated breathe. “Did you get the gig?”

The moment she bit her lips and looked away, I knew the answer to my question.

We were screwed!

***

I paced outside the hotel, trying to put myself together. I had already practiced what I would say to the manager. I would start with an apology, and then beg for my job back, grovel if need be. I would even beg that fat dirt bag that caused me to lose my job in the first place, if that is what it takes to get my job back.

So why am I still hesitating?

I had to put my big girl pants on and go in. I sucked in a deep breathe then marched straight into the building and headed to the Manager’s office.

I hesitated before rapping on his door. When I heard an irritated grunt, I pushed the door open and walked.

The wide grin on his face felt like a stab in my gut. It felt like going back to eat my own shit.

“Good morning boss,” I said in the lowliest voice I could muster.

“Well, well, well. Look what the cats dragged in,” he laughed even more. “Let me guess,” he took off his glasses and placed it on the table, “you want your job back.”

How I wish he were wrong. “I really need this job. Or a loan. I swear I will pay back every last penny.”

“You’ve got some balls, I’ll give you that. I mean you tell me to eat shit and you still show your face here. You don’t seem so confident either,” he got up to his feet.

I balled my fists, digging my nails into palm to keep my anger buried deep in my chest. This was my only hope.

“Get on your knees and beg me,” he said, leaning casually against the window.

A part of me wanted to storm off, its not like he would lend me twenty-five grand which was what I needed before the end of today in other to keep I and my sister from being turned into prostitutes.

I dropped to my knees. “Please give me my job back,” the words left a sour taste in my mouth. I fought back the tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

He shrugged. “I am a very forgiving man. Get back to work.”

I could not get myself to thank him, so I just forced myself up and went straight to the changing room.

After spending the entire day, scrubbing toilets and bathrooms, my entire body ached. And my major problem came crashing back.

Where they hell was I supposed to get twenty-five grand from?

The manger might have given me my job back, but he sure as he’ll would not be giving me a loan. I had to get in Tom's good books before I could ask for a loan.

There was only one thing left to do.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and marched out into the cool evening. It was a beautiful evening. If I weren’t in a pickle, I would have strolled back home.

Instead, I got on the bus and rode to the one place I swore never to step foot. No matter how bad things got.

The loan office.

I filled out a form and walked up to one of the cashier’s, an elderly lady with cold brown eyes, and a cigarette between her lips.

She took the form from my fingers wordlessly and scanned the contents. She glanced up at me and back to my form. Finally she pushed the form back to me.

“You are not eligible for that amount,” she grunted.

I shook my head. “You don’t understand. I really need this money. I have a job I can pay back every penny,” I pushed the form back to her.

“You are not eligible for this amount,” she repeated in a harsher tone.

I was about to say something, when my phone rang. I took the call as soon as I saw it was Vera, “did you get it?” I blurted into my phone, even though a part of me knew she could possibly have raised twenty-five grand.

“Vee they want to take me please help!” She shrieked.

My heart sank.

“I am here for my money. Be quick!” The call disconnected.

My lips quivered as I stared at my phone screen. I glanced up at the cashier.

“How much can I get?”