Deliverance [h.s.]

sixty-eight | ten to zero

I really fucked it up this time

Didn't I, my dear?

Little Lion Man || Mumford & Sons

*************

10 Days Left

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, it's the best I could do.

I'm sorry I couldn't give more.

I'm sorry, but it's business.

The words have been on repeat since the car slowly peeled out of the curved driveway as we started the depressing descent home. The duffle bag in front of me serves as a cold reminder every time I glance in its direction.

I'm sorry, Miss Monroe.

He wasn't sorry. He's not sorry.

Steele Stevens is a man of business and calculation; he always has been and he always will be. I was not the exception.

But even as I closed my eyes and silently begged the universe for a miracle, there was a twinkle inside of me that thought maybe, maybe, I could be.

"This is as far as the line goes for now," Steele's words spoke steady and calming, the opposite of the beat inside my chest right now.

For the first time since he pulled the bag from behind his desk, I let my eyes open to meet his. To an untrained eye, his face is stoic and stone but to me, I can see it. I can see the undeniable sorrow before he even speaks with confirmation.

I take in as much air as my lungs will allow as Harry's large palm reaches across to encompass my thigh.

"I want to preface this with an; I'm sorry, Miss Monroe," and with that, my world collapsed.

Harry is silent in the driver seat but I can see anger emitting off of him in the form of him white-knuckling the steering wheel. He was blindsided, shocked, more so than me I think. A part of me wants to comfort him but most of me knows I'm in no place to be helping anyone at this moment when I can't even help myself.

50 days ago, i thought i was hopeless at rock bottom but here, right now, with 10 days left; this is it.

This is the lowest of lows. This is the reality of rock bottom.

I was naive with blinded sight but with the covers ripped back, I can see clearly.

"I stretched it as far as the business budget would allow. I made exceptions and i docked from elsewhere what i could-"

"Fucking spit it out, Steele." Anger seethed in my tone as I watched him with nothing but burning ache.

The duffle bag in front of him unzipped with hesitation, his hands moving at turtle pace as he pulls out the varying stacks of cash.

"For you, Harry, and for Jax; 100,000 each. I hope you don't mind but I moved around the pay for accommodation and it should reflect in your total." Harry stayed with gritted teeth, blacked out on Steele in front of him. Slowly his vision came to me and I braced for the words I'd feared, "For you and Mac; 200,000 each."

400,000 dollars.

1,320,000; that's it. That's all.

50 days of constant torture for me to fucking fail him, exactly like they knew i would.

I've let Elias down with no one to blame but myself.

There was no safe bet. There was no easy guarantee that I would get to the finish line but I pushed as hard as I could to get there and I still can't make it.