"I can't help that I don't have the hours," he sighs and looks back down at his paperwork. "The work just isn't there this week. I promise I'll let you know if I get a job."

I snort a laugh and give him a disgusted look. "What am I supposed to do until then?"

"I..." He pauses and sighs. "I'm not real sure, Jason. It's not my problem, but I'm sorry."

It's never his problem. Never anybody's problem. It was easy for him to give me the job. The contractor could afford it two weeks ago. Now work is slowing down, and instead of finding something else for me to do around the office, he's decided to let me go.

This world straight-up sucks.

"Great. Thanks." I slide out of the chair and storm away from him, praying he'll tell me to stop, that he can figure something out.

He never does. My gut fills with despair as the reality of being both unemployed and homeless sinks in.

This is bad.

I start coughing again. It's been with me for about a week. During my last visit with Ava, I was able to hide the fact that I was doing so horribly. This week I doubt I'll be able to pull that off. It's rained the last couple of nights, and as much as I've tried to shield myself from the elements, nothing has worked. I bought a cheap tent when I received my first paycheck, but the wind has already taken a toll on the thing. The water seeps in through the top and drips down on me while I sleep. Civilized means of shelter isn't in the cards, at least not right now. The homeless shelters have either been full or only meant for women and children.

It's like fate is against me.

I had all of my stuff packed a week after Kate gave me the deadline. Turner told me I was welcome until my two weeks were up, but I couldn't handle being in the same house as his wife anymore. He didn't ask questions, of course. He knew how I felt about her, so instead of creating more bad blood, he brought me out to lunch, casually slipping me a hundred dollars to make sure I was going to be okay. I told him my mom was going to let me stay with her for a few days, which was a lie. The real explanation would have killed him and put his marriage in jeopardy.

The phone call I made to my mom that day was a last-ditch effort to pull myself out of a bad situation. Her quick rejection didn't surprise me. Things between us had been tense for years.
As much as she loved me, there was a big part of her that couldn't trust me, and that went double for Craig. When I had been living with her, I did a lot of underhanded things so I could get my drugs. I would steal money out of her purse and sell stuff I knew meant a great deal to her; my grandparent's wedding bands, her best jewelry, china, silver. It was when I decided to start stealing Craig's stuff that he finally put his foot down. He had me arrested, and it was the first time I ever spent more than a month in a prison cell. You would think that would have taught me a lesson, but I was too arrogant to learn from my mistakes. When I got out, I went back home, but they told me I wasn't welcome. That's when I went out into the world alone. I continued to use drugs, made a baby, and wound up in prison again.

I had no choice but to put up with the rejection. I worked, I bought a tent, and eventually found a semi-safe spot to set up camp under an old underpass. There are a few other guys there, and after talking with them a bit, they said I was welcome to share their space. We light a fire at night sometimes, when we can find things to burn. Mostly we keep to ourselves, staying shut in our tents at night to keep warm.

I have no idea how I've been able to keep my current situation from Collins. She hasn't caught on. I guess because I've been able to change my clothes and shower at the YMCA. It's been good, she's seemed to warm up to me a little more each weekend that I visit Ava. Last weekend I said something to her I can't remember, but she laughed. It reminded me that she had a personality and a sweet smile.

I pray that I can keep things going like this, find a job, and a real place to live before I'm caught in a lie. Getting caught would destroy everything I've worked for up until this point, and things are so great between Ava and me right now. We have a real connection again.

I can't lose that with her, because I'll lose myself.

I go to the check-cashing place on my way back to the underpass and redeem my final paycheck. A hundred and thirty dollars for fifteen hours of work. It'll last me a week, maybe more if I stretch my money. I wish I could afford a motel, just for tonight, but it's either that or starve, and I'd rather not go hungry if I can help it. I shove the money in my sock and decide to make my way to the homeless shelter to try and get some help for the night.

"We can give you a spot at supper, but we're full for the night." The man sighs as he flips through his occupancy list. "You should try to get here in the morning, you'll have a better chance of getting a bed."

I nod but don't say anything else as he lets me walk past him and into the warm cafeteria. The wave of hunger pain rips through my gut, taking up all of my focus. I didn't eat last night. There was no room for me at supper. I grab a plate and silverware before jumping into line with the thirty or so other people that got here before me. I can smell chicken soup, and my mouth begins to water.

Fuck. I feel like such a transient right now.

I begin to cough again, making sure to cover my mouth when I spot the two young kids in front of me, clinging to their mother's waist. They look famished. They're dirty, tired, ragged from the elements. The girl reminds me of how Ava used to be, and immediately my stomach begins to hurt, so I have to look away. Then the line starts to move again, and I've never been so thankful for anything.

"Hey little ones," I hear a woman say as I stare at the soup looming a few feet away from me. "If you want some more tonight, you just come and find me okay?"

I hear their mother thanking her profusely, and it gets me to smile. I look up to gaze at the woman ladling soup to the people in line.

My heart drops into my gut.

I wish I hadn't.

Collins is standing behind the counter, smiling at the two kids and their mother as she hands them their dinner.

She hasn't seen me yet.

Fuck.

I eye the soup, then her, then the soup, and decide to pull my ball cap down low over my eyes and hope that she won't pay enough attention to me as I move through the line. I do it silently.

"Hey there, how are you doing tonight?"

I just hold out my bowl and don't make eye contact with her. Then I hear the ladle hit the bottom of it, and begin to think that I'm off the hook. I walk away.

"Wait a second."

I pause, flinch.

Damn it.

"You dropped your gloves," she says brightly from behind me.

Crap. My work gloves were in my back pocket. "Don't worry about them."

"Well, you must need them, right?"

Then she walks around to the front of me, smiling at first, but after getting a good look at my face, her expression falls into a confused glare. "Jason?"

I brush past her.

"Don't you dare. Jason! Don't you walk away from me!"

I feel her hand on my shoulder when I reach a nearby table, and I gently place my food down before letting out a harsh sigh and turning to face her. "What, Collins? Going to report me for trying to get some food?" I plop down at the table and start shoving the soup into my face before she has a chance to stop me.

Collins doesn't respond for several moments. Her gaze floats all over me, and then she finally sits adjacent from me. "What about your paycheck?"

I shrug. "Bills."

"I don't believe you."

I refuse to meet her gaze, but I feel her eyes narrowing themselves on me.

"I can't eat Turner's food," I explain. "It's not fair, so I come here sometimes, that's all."

"I volunteer a lot, and I've never seen you here," she says, cooly.

I shrug.

"Jason."

I shovel more soup in my mouth.

"Jason, did you get kicked out?"

How can she sense this shit? I can't make sense of it, and that's pulling on my last nerve.

"No," I say it serious enough to be believable, and make sure to look in her in the eye.

"So if I go ask Turner, he'll confirm that, right?"

The smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth. "Of course."

I make a mental note to have Turner lie for me.

"Because if he lied to me, I could have him arrested," Collins says, her tone harsh and intimidating.

I just stare at her.

"You look sick," she tells me next. "Jason if--"

"Look... I'm not lying to you, Collins." I drop my spoon into my empty bowl, and it clatters as I push away from the table. "I'll see you Saturday, like always."

"At least let me take you home," she offers, her gaze desperate.

I wave her off. "I got it."

"Jason!"

I blow out the door, and start to run, taking a million different turns to make sure she can't follow me. After a while, I find an empty alley to duck into, and I lean over, clutching the stitch in my side, looking over my shoulder every few seconds to make sure she's not there.

I'm alone, for now, but I have no idea how long I can keep this up.

The coughing starts again, and I slide to the ground, clutching my legs tightly to my chest as I stare up at the sky, praying that things start to get easier soon.

"Well, what do we have here, guys?"

I hear snickers following the deep, cold voice, and I shudder as I look towards it. Men. Four of them, looming above me. They're all much bigger than me, and since I'm sick as a dog, I know hell will freeze over before I'll be able to fight them off.

"I was just leaving," I say, pathetically.

"You realize that you have to pay to hang out in our territory, don't you street rat?"

The leader type says it, crouching down to meet my level, pinning me against the brick wall when I try to stand up. I attempt to make out his face, but the moonlight is completely blocked out by his posse. All I can see is the outline of a hooded sweatshirt and deep black nothing.

"I...I don't have anything," I whimper.

"Search him."

In a flash, I'm kicked in the gut and pressed face-first into the cement—a thick, meaty hand clamps over my mouth. I groan and struggle, but it's useless. They pin my arms behind me, and then another man begins to stick his hands in the pockets of my jeans and sweatshirt. I pray these guys aren't smart enough to look in my socks.

Then my sneakers are yanked off, and when I feel the cold air hit my bare feet, I know they're going to find the rest of my money—the only money I have.

"Well, it looks like you do have something after all," the leader laughs as my money is pulled free from my sock. "Why'd you lie?"

I don't say a word.

"Show him what we do to lying scum."

I'm yanked to my feet, held up by two of the men as another stands in front of me, cracking his knuckles. I'm shaking so hard. I couldn't call out for help if I wanted to.

"Don't be snooping around here again."

The leader walks away.

Then everything is a blur, a whirlwind of frightened, desperate cries, and indescribable pain. The man must kick and punch me in every accessible place on my body. I feel a rib, maybe two, crack, and my left leg is completely numb when they finally drop me down onto the pavement again. I can't move, just groan, and cough harshly when I'm kicked in the stomach one last time.

"Better learn your lesson, vermin."

I lie so still, for such a long time, sobbing and shaking as the pain intensifies. Then I realize the men are gone, and I try to move, to crawl away to get help, but my leg has twisted in such a way that it must have broken.

"Help!" I call out.

Nobody hears me, though. Nobody cares about a junkie like me.

I'll probably die here.

But maybe the world and Ava will be better off.

With all of that in mind, my world goes dark.