The Tutor (BOOK 2: OMEN KING SERIES)

|𝟸𝟷|

Jenny Johnson

I grab my check from my uncle, my fingers trembling slightly as I stand cautiously in the auto shop near the office door. The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting harsh shadows that seem to mock me. I stare at the paycheck, a slip of paper that feels heavier than it should.

I bite down hard on my lip, the taste of iron flooding my mouth-a fitting reminder of the pain I feel every time I think of him. Two hundred and fifty dollars deducted. Just like that.

What gives him the right? It's beyond ridiculous.

I told him I wouldn't be working today because Romeo texted me that he passed his English paper, and suddenly, I'm being punished for it. No discussion, no explanation. Just a cold, hard number on a check that should feel like a reward for my hard work. But this? This feels like a slap in the face.

I glance around the shop, my heart racing as an overwhelming sense of anger and self-doubt swells within me. Was I not worth a conversation? The very man who claims to have sacrificed so much for me-a man who has, in reality, only taken and taken, like a thief. Yes, he raised me, but it's hard to feel any gratitude when I've always sensed I was an inconvenience. A burden.

Five hundred dollars. That's all I get for weeks of sweat and grease. It's not even close to what I need for college. My stomach twists at the thought of my five thousand dollars stashed away in my piggy bank. Emergency funds, I remind myself.

"You're free to go," Harlow says, mouth full of burger, as if he's dismissing a dog.

I look at him, puzzled, my chest tight. Is that all I am to him? A chore to be brushed aside?

I don't bother with a response; I just turn and walk towards the exit, my insides churning. My smile is false, a mask I wear for the coworkers I've never bothered to know. I grab my small bag and rush toward the gray toyota, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Are you okay?" Bianca asks as I hop into the passenger seat, her voice laced with genuine concern. I can see it in her eyes-she knows something's off.

I force a smile, a quick flash of brightness meant to mask the storm swirling inside me. "Yeah, I'm fine," I lied, not wanting to burden her with my mess.

I let my gaze drift over her, taking in the way her bright turquoise dress hugs her figure, perfectly accentuating her captivating blue and green eyes. Even her hair, curled to perfection, adds an elegance I can only envy. She looks stunning, like someone who has it all together.

"The big game is today," Bianca continues, her voice brightening, "and I know how much you want to go. So, spill the beans-why the change of heart?"

I let my eyes drift back to the window, watching the world blur past, the Johnson auto shop logo fading into the distance. My thoughts tumble like leaves in the wind. How long will I carry this weight of debt to Harlow? He never gives me a specific number, just vague threats about taking what's his. What does that even mean? Does he ever put in the effort to earn his own money? Or is he just content to live off the back of my hard work?

"Just felt like it, I guess," I reply, shrugging my shoulders, trying to sound casual. "Figured it's time to be more social or something."

The lie hangs in the air between us, heavy and suffocating. I can't tell her I'm going for a certain football quarterback, the team captain who's been the topic of every conversation in my head. No, that would only lead to endless teasing and questions I'm not ready to answer.

"Are you coming?" I ask, turning my attention back to her.

"And do what? Root for our oh-so-great, womanizing football team?" She retorts, and I can't help but laugh because she hit the nail on the head.