Anguish

PROLOGUE

“You stole my fuckin’ drugs.”

The foot at my throat presses me further into the cold, scratchy pavement. I gasp, my fingers clawing at fleshy ankles. His skin doesn’t budge; my nails are too short to break the flesh that I’m so desperately scraping at. It does nothing to move him, or send him on his way. Instead, he pushes harder, cutting off more of my air supply.

“That’s not exactly how it went down,” I croak, struggling.

“You were meant to deliver them; instead you fuckin’ sold them, and ran with the money.”

He’s right about that. I did take the drugs and sell them. I had good reason—my boyfriend was in trouble, and I was doing anything I could to get him out of trouble. I didn’t think ahead. I didn’t realize that I’d then owe a very unhappy drug dealer money. Not my finest moment, that’s for damned sure.

“I had no choice . . . I was helping someone I care about.”

He presses his boot down further into my throat, and my air supply narrows down to a dangerous level. My head pounds as the blood and oxygen are cut from my brain.

“I bet that person ain’t here helpin’ you tonight, now, are they?”

No, he’s right about that. Samuel is probably sleeping with someone else. The moment his debt was cleared, he left me. The dirty, cheap fucker left me. Now I’m dealing with the backlash. A furious drug dealer who wants his money.

Money I don’t have.

“Don’t I get,” I gasp, “one chance to get your money?”

He glares down at me through angry grey eyes. I squirm again as my vision starts flittering in and out. Shit, I’m going to pass out and he’s probably going to kill me, or worse, drag my helpless body away to do God knows what with.

“I have m-m-m-money,” I croak.

“If you had money, you wouldn’t have stolen my drugs.”

“I . . .” God, I’m on the edge. “I can get it. I s-s-s-swear.”

He stares at me, and for each second he does, my vision swims. Then, much to my relief, he lifts his boot off and reaches down, hurling my weak body up. He pulls me close, so close that our noses touch. My knees wobble and I have to push all my focus into not falling flat on my face and giving him another chance to take me.

“Listen, and listen fuckin’ good. You’ve got two weeks, and trust me, that’s me bein’ fuckin’ generous. Get my money, or I come for you.”

Shit.

I nod.

“Don’t try and run. You do, I’ll fuckin’ find you.”

I close my eyes, take a deep, burning breath and nod again.

“Two weeks.”

Then he’s gone.

And I know . . . I just know . . . I’m in deep, deep shit.

CHAPTER ONE

“You can’t be serious, Jaylah!”

I turn and scowl at my best friend, Josie. She’s leaning against my kitchen counter, her face scrunched, her pretty little nose turned up. I glance at her arms, which are crossed angrily across her ample chest. She’s a tiny, busty, ball of sass. It’s why I adore her.

“It’s a job, it gets me away from the house. If I’m away from the house, I’m not so easily tracked,” I point out, popping a piece of carrot into my mouth and chewing loudly. Josie glares at me.

“He’ll find you no matter where you are!”

I shake my head, wagging my finger at her. “It’s only been a few days; I still have a week or so left. I don’t know if I’ll have that kind of money before then, so being away is safest.”

“He’ll come here . . .”

“And I won’t be here.”

“What if he goes after me? Or someone else you care about?”

I give her a ‘really?’ look. “My parents live six hours away and their surname is completely different to mine, since I changed it. He wouldn’t find them easily. Besides, I’ll tell Dad and he’ll be ready. You live two hours away; I hardly think he’s going to go after you. The person he’d likely go after is Samuel, and personally, I’m not going to complain if Samuel gets his ass kicked.”

She drops her head into her hands and sighs loudly. “Even if it does get you away . . . you’re forgetting one vital piece of information.” She lifts her head. “You’re not a fucking nanny!”

I snort, choking on a piece of carrot and throwing myself into a coughing fit. When I’m done, I straighten, patting my chest and rasping, “How hard can it be? Changing nappies, feeding . . . it’s a piece of cake.”

“It’s a child . . .” She gapes. “You know—not a dog!”

I wave a hand. “It’s live-in, it’s good pay, and it’s only a baby.”

“Babies poop, and cry, and spew . . .”

“So do dogs,” I point out.

“Jesus, Jay. There’s got to be something else.”

I take a step closer. “I have Gregor after my ass. He doesn’t play nice. I need somewhere he can’t find me. He won’t find me there; it’s some distance away. I can pay him off, and then it’ll all be over. It’s a thousand dollars a week, including food and a room! All to look after one baby.”

Josie sighs and shakes her head. “I can see there’s no talking you out of this. At least go and make sure it’s what you want before saying yes.”

I smile. “Good news—I’m going right now to meet the child and his father.”