It takes almost three hours and five different buses and nearly all my bus tokens to finally return to my neighborhood. It turns out that Jason lives about as far from me as he can get and still be in the same city.

As soon as the bus pulls up to my apartment I realize spending so much time with Jason, surrounded by all the beauty that money can buy, was a big mistake.

Now, more than ever, I know exactly what I’m missing.

The large brick apartment building has always looked drab and outdated, but compared to the steel and glass of Jason’s place, it’s downright depressing. I shudder to think about how shabby, small, and outdated my apartment is going to feel, whereas before yesterday morning it had always felt like a small, cozy corner of my own personal world.

Usually, when I’m getting home I at least have the idea of seeing Kelsey as soon as I walk into the apartment to brighten my arrival, but not now. She’s already left for school and it will be hours and hours before she gets home and I can hug her. God, I miss her.

At least I’ll have time to get some work on that first web development project done and as soon as that’s complete, I’ll have just enough to cover this month’s payment to Abe and his father. And after that I’ll have three and a half glorious weeks before Abe’s next visit.

It always amazes me how liberated I feel after each payment. I mean, it’s not like I ever get ahead or anything. I’m barely keeping up with the interest on the loan, forget paying off the principle.

I blow out a sigh and clutch the strap of my laptop case. I step off the bus and try not to think too hard about the future, or the recent past either, for that matter. What’s the point? I have to focus on the here and now and doing whatever it takes to keep my daughter happy, healthy, and safe and the only way I can do that is dealing with the immediate problems and issues that crop up.

Yesterday, last night, and the start of this morning were a fairytale, a shining sample of what my life might have been like if things had been just a little bit different, but now it’s back to reality.

At least I’ll have the memories to keep me company during the long nights that I know I’m going to encounter and that’s better than nothing. Isn’t it?

The bus doors slide closed behind me and I quicken my step, but I’m not fast enough. As it lumbers forward, it belches a huge cloud of exhaust, which settles over me and burns my nose and lungs.

I pick my way through the icy sludge that soaks my shoes and freezes my feet and hope it’s not some sort of metaphor for my existence.

At the third-floor landing, I transfer my sopping wet shoes which I’d removed as soon as I got into the apartment building to one hand. Dirty water drips off the toe of each shoe, creating a mucky puddle on the landing’s linoleum floor. I ignore the mess and push the door open.

Instead of the empty hallway I’m expecting at this time of the day, my eyes land on two no-necked, wide-shouldered guys who study me with bored expressions.

A wave of anxiety creeps up my spine. The little hairs at the back of my neck stand on end as I look past the two goons and spot Abe.

He’s set up a chair, an actual fucking chair that he must have brought from home and hauled up in the elevator, in front of my apartment door. He’s sitting in it, his posture, combined with the way his fat rolls pool in his lap reminding me of Jabba the Hutt.

I swallow the impulsive burst of hysterical laughter that bubbles up in my throat. How the Hell can I think of Star Wars at a time like this?

One of the neckless goons clears his throat and Abe looks up from the smart phone he’s holding.

A wide smile that shows off his chipped, yellowed teeth splits his wide face. “Ella!”

Tossing the phone on the floor beside his chair, he braces his hands on its arms and heaves himself to his feet. I brace myself as he lumbers towards me.

“Just where have you been?”

Expecting a not-too-subtle comment about how I should be warming his bed instead of working my ass off at menial jobs, the comment catches me off guard.

“Why do you ask?” Abe has never expressed any real interest in my activities or whereabouts before. Of course, I’ve never spent the night in one of Chicago’s most eligible billionaire’s beds before either. I knew even as I’d left with Jason that there was a chance they’d see him, and that they would ID him.

Was I right all this time? Have they been watching my moves? Making notes about who I spend time with? Trying to figure out how they can use that connection against me? Maybe I’m not paranoid after all.

Abe shrugs one massive shoulder. “Just wondering, that’s all,” he says. Tiny beads of spittle fly out of his mouth and I resist the urge to step out of their way. “It’s not like you not to come home at night.”

“Something came up.” A warm blush steals over me as I consider my words’ double meaning. Something came up all right, and it kept coming up all night and again this morning.

Abe cocks one of his brows. It looks like a caterpillar that’s in the throes of despair. “Really?”

He stops in front of me. He reaches out and uses a fingertip to trace my right cheekbone. I fight the urge to flinch away from his touch. Something tells me that would be very bad for my overall health.

“What was it?” he asks. Hs whiskey scented breath sours my stomach.

“It’s nothing that concerns you.” Probably not the smartest thing to say to a guy that never goes anywhere without at least two bodyguards, both of whom I assume are armed to the teeth, and that I owe money to, but bravado is the only real defense I have against him.

Abe stares at me. For the first time, I realize that there’s nothing in his eyes, no joy, no hate, no spark of life. They’re completely blank, reptilian. I wonder if they’ve always been so cold, or if I’ve never bothered to give them more than a passing glance.

“Everything about you concerns me,” he says, stepping even closer. “Ain’t you figured that out yet? You’re an asset.” His gaze rakes over me and he licks his chapped lips. “In more ways than you can possibly imagine.”

Bile burns my stomach. Until this moment, I’ve always respected Abe and been hyper-aware of the potential danger he could be to my daughter, but I wouldn’t have said I was actually afraid of him, just afraid of what he represents.

Now is different. Staring into those chilling eyes, my fear is one hundred percent directed at the short, fat man who’s breathing on me.

I take a deep breath and command myself to remain calm, to handle this the same way I’ve handled every other encounter with Abe.

“Why are you here, Abe?” I’m pleased that even though it’s pitched higher than normal, my voice remains steady.

“I need to chat with you about your next payment.”

“It’s not due until Friday.”

“Yeah.” Abe draws out the word. “The due date ain’t the problem.”

Even though I just know I’m not going to like the answer, I can’t prevent myself from asking. “What problem?”