𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑻 𝑾𝑨𝑽𝑬𝑺 | 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

Chapter Thirty-One

Evelyn Banks

"That's not the point, JJ" I huff, tossing a twig at him before hauling the bag over my shoulder. He surrenders momentarily to help me carry it over to the shed before dusting his hands off.

"Well if he's your boyfriend why doesn't he just loan you some? It's not like the douche bag doesn't have money pouring out of his pockets" His statement causes me to glance at him sidelong.

"I haven't seen him in over a month and we aren't together right now. Besides, I wouldn't ask him anyway" I sigh heavily, brushing away the sweat on my brow as we finish up cleaning the rest of the garden. We collect the money before leaving on his bike, making a direct beeline to Pope's.

"It's just not fair you have to work, what? Three different jobs just to keep shit steady" JJ continues as soon as the bike parks and the engine turns off.

"I'm fine JJ. It's a bunch of odd jobs at most" I groan, hauling myself off the bike and heading inside.

I wanted to reassure him that he was being over dramatic about my current work load but he was somewhat right. Over the last few weeks I had taken up shifts helping JJ with his amateur lawn cleaning business, waiting tables at the Seafood joint and doing runs for Barry. It was a last resort but a necessary one, my dad hasn't been picking up any shifts so I thought taking matters into my own hands would be better than starving.

It's another long shift with JJ and Pope occasionally distracting me and being scolded numerous times by Pope's parents before it's finally time to close up. I check my phone, tutting when I see my dad's text message before shoving my phone in my pocket.

Stop by Barry's for me doll.

The drive to Barry's would take an additional fifteen minutes, time I didn't want to spend after working for a whole Saturday. But I figure being eaten by my guilt wouldn't be worth it so I ask JJ for a ride.

When I knock on his trailer door there's no answer and when calling his number a few times doesn't work, I figure he's too busy to deal. He shows up ten minutes later, pulling into the driveway and barely greeting me as he pushes past to rummage through the cupboards of his trailer.

"Hello to you too" I scoff, eyeing him from the doorway as he loads a duffel bag full of his supply.

"Sorry pretty girl I'm working, I run out mid drive" He hums, zipping up the bag before packing it up.

"My dad..."

"Yeah I got your daddy's order. I'll drop it off later" He says before making his way back to the car, tossing the duffel in the back.

"Can you drop me home? My ride already left and my dad hasn't been driving" Barry nods, slapping his hand on the top of the car before gesturing for me to get in.

The car itself is surprisingly clean and smells like clean linen, the air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror swaying as we turn down another street. He seems to be in a mood so I save the conversation, just enjoying the silence as we drive through familiar streets. We stop at a few houses and I watch from the car as Barry hands his clients their bags. He makes it look easy, more natural in comparison to when I run for him. Albeit, he does give me mild clients— usually harmless twenty year olds in Figure Eight.