Wronged

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- Anna's POV -

I sit on the bench outside the diner, short legs dangling above the cement outside of the cafe. I stare at a small crack in it and trace it with my eyes. It smells like rain outside, and the clouds above give reason as to why it does.

Everything that'd happened in the last hour sent me into deep process and shock. I was actually glad that I'd come out here after I was done talking to Dakota. Because now I'm sitting in Aiden's spot (he was out here while he waited for me to talk to Dakota alone) and have some time to myself to think.

I used to love Dakota with all my heart. Back when he was my brother, we were inseparable. He was the one who snuck food into the basement for me and bought me books - informational ones used in schools - to read. He made sure I had things to be warm and had stuff to keep dry when it rained or snowed. He would hold me until I fell asleep during the tremors of the thundering night.

But once he left, it was all gone. No more warmth. No more food. No more comfort. It just vanished, along with him.

The reason was because of how he was giving me that warmth, food, and comfort.

He left at thirteen years old. Only then was he realizing that the job he'd gotten to help support me wasn't actually a job. It was bad news. He said he left because he "didn't want me to get hurt." That what he was doing could've "put me in more jeopardy than I was already in." But I doubt that greatly. He would've protected me with his life, I know it. Instead, he just abandoned me with a monster.

Coward.

In order to put food in front of me and buy me those books and get me everything I needed as a growing girl, he had to get enough money to do so. But working small jobs wasn't cutting it. And he couldn't take any money from my dad, because he watches his account and cash stash like it's his own daughter...or maybe that's a bad comparison.

Anyway.

Eventually Dakota found this man on the street. The stranger asked Dakota to help him move something. What he didn't know is that it was illegal weaponry. Regardless, he helped the man. And he paid him for helping him with the task, telling him to run along.

"Oh. Sir, this is too much," Dakota says, handing back three twenties.

The man scoffs and chuckles. "Boy, that's barely anything compared to what I pay my employees. Keep it."

Dakota's eyes immediately widen, and then go back to their original position. He looks down at the wad of cash thoughtfully, and looks back up when he hears footsteps scuffing away.

"Wait!" He shouts, jogging up to him. The man turns around, a simple brow raised.

"How...how much money do they make?"

"A lot." The man pauses. "Why?"

Dakota inhales once and then exhales. His fingers absentmindedly flick the money in his hands. Unknowning about what he was about to get himself into, he says, "Because I...I'd like a job sir. Please."

My brother - or at least back then he was - had no idea how much dough he was actually going to make. It was way more than he needed to support me, and eventually it became too much. He could've bought a house if he wanted to.