Chapter 5

Cora

T en Years Later

“Damn it, Dad!” I shout, tossing the bill in my hand onto the pile with all the others. I close my eyes and let out a sigh. I’m tired, down right exhausted.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been having to deal with the shitstorm my dad left behind after his death in the form of a million dollars in debt.

Do you know how embarrassing it is to find out that your credit is so bad that you can’t even buy a cell phone?

That's how I found out that for years my father has been opening up multiple credit cards in my name, not paying them, and fucking me over hard.

It was nearly impossible to get an apartment after I was forced to move out of the house I’d lived in with him for the past ten years.

His divorce with Rose left him next to nothing. I don’t blame her for taking everything. After what he did to her, he deserved it.

But, it didn’t only affect him, it affected me too. Thankfully, he was able to buy a house before he was fired from his job and forced to find one that paid way less.

Every time he lost something in his life, he became more and more angry. And who did he like to take it out on? Me.

Somehow, I was to blame for all his mistakes and bad choices. He’d yell at me, told me I was a mistake, that I was just another mouth to feed.

So, I got a job right away. I did my best to go to school and work. Of course, because I was living under his roof, he forced me to pay. And not just part of the rent, or bills, he wanted everything. Every single dime of my check.

I managed to just barely graduate high school. Knowing I needed to move out, I got another job waitressing. It was a blessing because they paid me cash tips, so when my dad took my checks, I hid the cash.

It took me almost a year to save up enough money to get away from him and make a fresh start. Of course, it wasn’t that easy, nothing good ever happens in my life because when I came home from work one day, ready to put that night's tips into my hiding place, I found it empty.

Thousands of dollars gone. My father came into my room and lost it on me. He got in my face, calling me a liar and a thief. And then for the first time in my life, at the age of twenty-one, he hit me.

He backhanded me across the face and said that if I did something like this again, he would kill me.

Over time, I started to change. The sweet, caring blushing Cora was gone, replaced by a woman who had to break her back to stay alive.

I never had time to live, to go out and enjoy my twenties. The idea of college was laughable. He shut that idea down fast.

His words were. “How can you work enough hours to pay for everything if you're in college? Unless you plan on selling your body, it’s not going to happen.”

There was a small moment he almost let me, except if I was going to go, I had to give my student loans to him.

Knowing that was fucked up, I told him I’d just work more, harder.

Job after job, paycheck after paycheck. Now here I am at twenty-seven and I have nothing to show for it.

I’m alone in the world and have been for a long time now.

If I didn’t have time for school, I sure as hell didn’t have time for a dating life.

The few times I tried, it didn’t go over well. One time, a guy tried to drop me off at home, only for my dad to come out pissed out of his mind, and make a fool out of the both of us.

Another time my dad saw me out on a date with a woman. She was tall, stunning and everything I liked.

My father lost it. Called us every horrible name in the book. After that, I just gave up. There was no point. Even if I could find someone to love me, to care for me, could have gotten me out of the situation I was in, it would have been for all the wrong reasons.

Now, he’s dead. Drank himself into an early grave. Gone from my life. Like a toxic fog blown away by the wind. For the first time in years, I felt like I could breathe. That I could start my own life. Live for me and me only.

Then the bank told me about the credit cards and the lawyers came after his debts that I now had to pay because the asshole forced me to cosign on everything he took out in his name. Everything came crashing down like a house of cards.

The first thing I did was sell everything he owned and put the house up for sale.

It only managed to pay for part of his debt. There’s still a remaining balance of two hundred thousand.

And five hundred thousand for mine. Every time I see those numbers, I want to puke.

How the hell am I going to ever pay that off? I’m just barely a high school graduate without a college education. I’m making just enough to pay my own bills. At this point, I won’t even have half of it paid off before I die.

Yet, despite every shitty thing that keeps happening in my life, I still manage to wake up in the morning and keep going.

Knowing there’s nothing I can do about the pile of bills, I leave them on the table and get ready for my night shift at the restaurant.

I style my hair in long beach waves, add just enough makeup and change into my black dress pants and v-neck t-shirt.

With one last look at the pile of bills, I head out the door.

IF MY NIGHT WASN’T already ruined, it sure is now.

For the past hour, it’s just been one bad thing after another. I’ve had a man who tried to feel me up and when I got upset at him, he got me in trouble with my boss.

A lady had her dish sent back three times, then also complained to my boss that the order I originally took wasn’t what she asked for.

And now I’m covered in pasta sauce, standing in a sea of broken plates. I was so frantic to keep up with the rush, that I went in the door that's only meant to be an exit, causing tons of plates of food to come crashing down.

“Cora!” my boss, Clyde’s, voice booms. I flinch, tears filling my eyes as my heart sinks. I know what’s coming, I just know it. “My office, now.”

I take a few deep shuddering breaths to keep myself from breaking down and turn to follow after him.

“Sit.” I look down at my clothes and he huffs in annoyance. “Never mind. You won’t be here long. Look, I don’t think this is a good fit. This is a fast paced workplace with high end clients we need to keep happy and coming back. Having multiple complaints about you doesn’t look good. And now you’ve caused a lot of damage and you're forcing good customers to have to wait longer for their food. Costing us even more money as well as making the staff put in double the work.”

“But, it was an accident,” I tell him, my lower lip trembling as I try to keep it together. I hate how weak I look right now. I’m normally a lot better under pressure than this. You know what, fuck this. I’m not taking his or anyone else’s shit anymore. “And that woman was wrong. I took the right order, she just wanted to be a raging bitch who didn’t have anything better to do. And that man grabbed my ass. Was I supposed to just look the other way? To accept being assaulted.”

“Cora, I think it’s best if we part ways. Unfortunately, we’re going to have to let you go,” he says, ignoring me as he looks down at his papers, not giving a single fuck that he’s taking away the only income I have.

“You know what,” I snarl, anger coursing through my veins as my last fuck goes flying right out the window behind him. “Fuck you. You're not firing me, I quit.” I flip him off and the pure shock on his face at my outburst is almost enough to make me forget how fucked I am.

Almost.

Storming out of his office, I head to the staff room and grab my purse before heading out the back door.

“Fuck!” I scream, kicking the trash can next to the door and sending it crashing to the ground.

The tears finally fall as I suck in heaving breaths, trying to keep myself from truly breaking down. I’m on a thin line, teetering back and forth. I’m afraid that if I break, I won’t be able to put myself back together again.

So, I close my eyes and suck it the fuck up because what good is crying going to get me? It’s not going to get me my job back. Not that I want a job that expects me to take being assaulted both physically and verbally.

Once I get myself together, I head towards the staff parking lot.

“Rough night?” A man’s voice makes me jump as I pass a car. I look over to see a man in a black suit leaning against the hood of his car, smoking a cigarette.

“You could say that.” I huff out a humorless laugh. “If losing my job and pretty much fucking myself over with a one way ticket to being homeless if I can’t find another is rough, then yeah, that's my night.”

He nods his head. “Yeah, I think it is. So, money is your primary issue, I’m going to assume.”

It’s now that I realize I’m talking to some stranger, spilling my life issues too. “Ah, yeah.” I clear my throat, becoming more aware. “I guess it is.”

“I can help you solve most, if not all, of your problems.”

“Look, man.” I take a step back. “I’m not into that.”

He chuckles. “I’m not trying to buy you for the night,” he tells me and reaches into his pocket. “You might not be willing to sell your body to me tonight. But would you be willing for the right price to sell it to someone else?” He looks around and alarms go off inside my head. “500k guaranteed,” he says, handing me a card.

I stare at it. Is this man for real? Does he understand how weird this is?

“Look, I know you think this is unusual, and yes it is. But this is my job. Just shoot an email to the address listed on the card if you're interested, and everything else will fall into place. Trust me.”

Hesitantly, I take the card. “Thanks,” I say slowly, giving the man one last look before rushing to my car. I don’t stop until I’m safely in the driver's seat with my doors locked.

I give the card a quick look over before placing it in the cupholder and getting the hell out of here.

When I pull up to my parking space, I turn my car off and stare up at the dark window of my apartment.

“What do I do?” I whisper to myself.

It’s halfway through the month. Even if they do give me my money for the hours I worked, it’s nowhere near what I need for rent and bills.

My eyes fall to the card. “Five hundredthousand.” I whisper, looking at the card. “That seems a little bit too good to be true.”

Couldn’t hurt to try? To email the one listed and see what happens.

What do I have to lose?

I’ve never felt the saying stuck between a rock and a hard place more than I do right at this moment.

I really hope this is the break I’ve been desperately needing to catch. But again, this is me we're talking about, that kind of luck isn't on my side.