All In

by JC Szot

  Evernight Publishing

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2014 JC Szot

  ISBN: 978-1-77130-737-6

  Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

  Editor: Laurie Temple

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to my husband, Mike. I lost Mike on August 1, 2013 after a long battle with AML Leukemia. All In was the first story I wrote after his death. It's taken some time for me to get back into my fictional groove, but I know Mike would want me to continue with my writing. All In is all for him.

  ALL IN

  JC Szot

  Copyright © 2014

  Chapter One

  “Where did you get that?” Cara asked. Her eyes widened at the wad of cash Mick had clenched between his fingers. He straightened out the bills, fanning them in her face like a deck of cards.

  “It’s my old man’s, or it was,” Mick said. A cunning grin formed on his full lips.

  It was more money than Cara had ever seen, aside from standing in line while at the bank.

  “I found it stuffed behind the fucking insulation down in the basement,” Mick told her. “Fucking asshole … says he never has any money. Well, now I’ve got a little over three G’s.”

  They huddled in the dark alley, shuddering from a bone-chilling wind that tunneled around them.

  Mick’s eyes flashed as he pushed the black wool cap back over his brows, displaying features that could easily swing between expressions, and at the drop of a hat. Cara had seen both sides, how Mick could look wonderfully handsome, as well as extremely intimidating.

  He kept his dark hair buzzed close to his scalp. Mick had intense hazel eyes that seemed to change with his expressions, often looking as dark as cocoa with a leafy green incorporated in. Those unique eyes were paired with a strong, square jaw. His cheeks were always shaded with a hint of growth.

  Checking both ends of the alley, Mick rolled the bills up, returning them to the safe confines of his pocket.

  “What are you going to do with that money?” Cara pulled her hood over her head.

  “It’s what we’re going to do with it,” Mick told her, his features sobering. He scoured the length of the alley once more, his voice lowering. “We’re getting the fuck outta here.”

  “What the hell are you saying?” Cara felt her entire body go tight. The look on Mick’s face had her mind racing.

  “Just look at our folks.” He sniffed, shaking his head. “There’s no future here. We live in The Hollow, remember?” Mick’s hand reached for her. His fingers dug into her arm. His grip seared through her heavy coat. Mick shook her, jarring her with the brutal truth of his words. “If we don’t get out of here now, we’ll never leave,” Mick whispered, his tone now dripping with an empathy Cara wasn’t familiar with. “There’s better, and I don’t need to become a goddamn basketball player to get it,” he said sharply.

  Cara knew the resentment Mick had for his brother ran deep. All Mick’s parents cared about was Theo’s athletic success and what it could buy them later. Theo had won a scholarship for college and was now being considered for the NBA draft.

  Mick had always fought to tame his jealousy, only ever getting the leftovers. He’d never been praised for his good grades. His father always told him there was never any money for him to even consider taking a night class at the local community college.

  Mick was a short-order cook at the local diner, and a good one, but Cara knew his aspirations were always trying to reach higher.

  They’d both been living day-to-day in The Hollow. Mick had been vowing since graduating high school that he was going to split. Cara had underestimated him. She thought this day would never come, assuming Mick shared her own fears about leaving, fears that were connected to failure, only having to return and admit defeat. Silence hung around them as dead leaves swirled in the wind before skidding across the asphalt.

  They were already twenty-two years old. Mick was right. Very little had changed. Had Cara become so numbed by the same daily routine that she hadn’t noticed?

  She’d been sloughing in a dead-end job, assembling pegboards at Rothmans’ Millworks. As Mick presented this blinding reality, Cara’s thoughts reverted back to her mother. Though Cara had always had shelter and food, her mother was foolish, shacking up with a new man every week.

  A gust of biting wind stung her eyes. Mick’s voice clawed its way through the shadows.

  “We only get one fucking life, and this isn’t how it’s gonna be,” he said, jamming the toe of his sneaker into the concrete.

  “Why do you want to take me?” Cara asked, her heart tripping at her own question. She and Mick had been what Cara always thought of as “survivor mates.” This was a radical move. Before she agreed to anything, she needed to know.

  “No way am I leaving you here,” he told her through an irritated breath, his jaw tight. “It’s now or never. It’s this one second of indecision that can easily turn into many minutes. Minutes that turn into the hours of days, days that you can never get back. Faltering can do years of damage.” Mick swallowed hard, his eyes narrowing.

  “Why does this feel like a top-secret mission?” Cara asked. “I can’t leave without telling my friends.”

  “If we say the slightest thing all people will do is laugh,” Mick said, his tone scathing. “They’ll say our plan will never work, and we’ll be back. I will not listen to their fears of failure. People are also going to question where I got the funds to leave. I’d probably be arrested for stealing, knowing how gossip travels around this place.” Mick shook his head. “Tomorrow night is the night. Are you in, Cara?”

  The only world she knew flashed before her eyes. The idea of going on here, in The Hollow, without Mick had her insides cramping with a different kind of fear. They’d known each other forever, born and raised in the darkest, murkiest part of Pittsburgh. He’d taught her how to tie her shoes, for God’s sakes!

  That hesitation Mick had just lectured her about was knocking at the door of her soul, trying to get in and ingrain itself, filling her with a trepidation Cara wasn’t sure she could believe. Wasn’t fear why people stayed where they were?

  “Cara!” Mick’s voice rattled through her.

  “What time are we leaving?” she gasped, having held her breath.

  Their eyes locked. Warm breaths slipped from Mick’s mouth in strings of smoke.

  “The last bus out leaves at dusk. Meet me at the Blackwell Street Station … and, please, travel light.” He spun on his heel, disappearing into the darkness.

  Cara sagged into the cold bricks, listening to the echo of his footsteps as they receded into the night.

  Chapter Two

  He couldn’t sleep. Mick sat up and turned on the small nightlight. He checked his backpack again, making sure he had everything he needed and nothing he didn’t. If he did, it would only weigh him down.

  Thank God Cara was coming. Leaving her behind would’ve been the hardest thing he’d ever done.

  He’d been in love with Cara forever, for more than half his life. His heart rate woke up with the idea, becoming erratic. Would this departure enable him to act?

  Cara and her mother had landed in The Hollow right before they started first grade. A bad divorce combined with a string of more bad choices had made Cara and her mom Mick’s permanent neig
hbors.

  A line of dim light lit up below his door. His father’s footsteps creaked through the hall. Mick turned the nightlight out and sat back in his bed. He could take care of Cara now. He wanted to give her everything she ever wanted and hoped to have.

  What kind of life could he offer Cara here? The American dream would never be birthed and built in a slum. That stuff only existed on TV. There were a few decent people in their neighborhood, those who worked hard and continued to struggle. Then there were the others. Folks who weren’t motivated. They’d given up. Mick didn’t want that happening to him. A change this drastic needed to be done while he was young. The older you got, the more fearful you became. If he was going to implement change, it had to be now.

  Mick had been holding his breath for years, afraid Cara would be snatched up, but living here put you on the outs where the opposite sex was concerned. It was a line of segregation that no one wanted to cross, despite one’s good looks and nature. This unfortunate stigma had worked to his advantage, leaving Cara for him. For Mick, Cara was the billboard of his future, advertising as well as prompting him to act. Once they got away from here and it was only the two of them, he would try to convey all the feelings he’d kept restrained without the hideous backdrop of The Hollow.

  ****

  “You took a shower last night,” her mother said, her tone scolding. “You better watch that hot water. The bill will be coming eventually.”

  “I know. I got glue in my hair today at work. I’m sorry,” Cara said, running the brush through her hair. She pulled the blonde strands back, securing her hair in a tight ponytail. She wasn’t sure when she’d be able to shower and shampoo again.

  This whole thing was nuts. Fear and excitement laced together, pulling her insides into a snug knot.

  Cara would assemble her last pegboards tomorrow. What would Val and Lacy think when she didn’t show up at work? She would have to go in tomorrow and act like all was normal. A shiver ran through her.

  Her small knapsack was packed and stuffed under the bed. Mick had told her to pack as light as possible. Women were known for needing everything but the kitchen sink, but she didn’t own much. Her mother always snatched her paycheck before she could even think about buying something for herself.

  She rolled all her clothing, choosing her three favorite pairs of jeans and four shirts. Cara stuffed the pockets of her jeans with as much underwear as she could. She’d wear the only decent bra she had and her boots, thinking she’d need sturdy shoes.

  As Cara zipped the side compartment closed that was filled with her toiletries, her eyes landed on her bookshelf, the sills bowing from weight. There was no way she could not take at least a few books. She got up, kneeling in front of the shelf. There were still a few she hadn’t read, having picked them up at the consignment store last week. Cara leafed through the titles. She’d already started Down and Dirty, noting the bookmark nestled between the pages.

  Scratch and Burn.

  Greedy for More.

  Down and Dirty.

  She would have to keep her addiction for erotica fiction a secret from Mick. She’d never hear the end of it. I need a paper bag so I can make book covers.

  It was Cara’s only escape—the written word. They were the only experiences she’d ever had, with the exception of one she fought almost daily to forget. Hopefully, leaving The Hollow would cure that.

  ****

  The sky darkened, bleeding out in smoky hues of purple and smoggy oranges. Mick purchased their two tickets. He hadn’t spoken to Cara since their meeting in the alley. He’d seen her leave and return from work today, completing the last day of what he knew was a tedious routine.

  The bus was due in twenty minutes. He folded the tickets and buried them deep in his pocket.

  Mick wandered through the bus station. Slumped bodies with weary faces sat on benches that lined the walls. He lowered his face into the fountain, sipping the pungent, chlorinated water for, hopefully, the last time.

  He’d told Cara to meet him near the side of the building. He patted his pack, feeling the small rations of food that he’d tucked in there. Through the course of his last day at the diner, he’d lifted several edibles. Mick needed to watch their money. He had to make it last until they found their new home. Home. That word settled in his gut like warm soup. It felt comforting and calm. It was a place Mick longed to be, with Cara beside him.

  That was another angle to their departure. How would she feel once he confessed his lifelong crush? Crush? No. Cara was no infatuation.

  She could meet somebody new once we’re away from here!

  Mick shook his head, shoving away his panicked thoughts. His heart and body ached, swelling to the bursting point. It was a vision that he’d kept contained for this long. The Hollow wasn’t where he wanted to claim Cara’s heart and soul, among all the other lustful things that stalked him every hour of every day.

  Mick wiped his mouth and slung his pack over his shoulder, sauntering toward the exit door, willing his body to calm. The mere notion of possessing Cara and her heart always provoked that internal stirring.

  The wind had died, but the biting chill of winter still sharpened the air, slicing through him like an iced-over blade. Mick leaned against the wall, thrilled with the thought that he’d spent his last Christmas here. He was fleeing—they were fleeing, and if Mick had his way, they’d never have to see this grimy, seedy city again.

  An engine roared to life, snapping him from his reverie.

  The bus slowly pulled around the station. Mick’s pulse fluttered in his chest. Where is she?

  “Hey.”

  Mick’s body spun, meeting her cloudy breaths.

  “Jesus,” he hissed. “Thought you’d stood me up,” he said. Relief washed over him, feeling like a hot sun emerging from behind a cloud.

  “No,” Cara said, pulling additional air into her lungs. “I wanted to wait until my mom left.”

  “Okay … good.” Mick felt his lips press together, squeezing the blood out of them. “You ready?”

  “Yeah.” Cara rolled her shoulders, as if to shrug off the stress. Her faint smile weighed on him, her apprehension as clear as enlarged print. Her dark-brown eyes darted away, her brow wrinkled. Mick knew she was nervous, not wanting to show that fearful side. Once they got on the bus, he would do his best to distract her.

  Mick snuck a brief sideward glance, quickly combing over her trim body that was bundled in a heavy coat. Cara was beautiful. She was the epitome of all that Mick thought natural beauty stood for.

  Her blonde hair was the real deal. Her eyes were a sweet brown that Mick longed to stare into. He wanted to see himself in them. To see his reflection filling her, wanting to learn all that was inside. His gaze traveled down the artful line of her jaw, landing on her lips.

  The whine of the bus’s Jake-brake rang in Mick’s ears, pulling up alongside the curb. Cara quickly turned, her ponytail swinging behind her head.

  “Let’s do it.” He placed his hand on her arm, guiding her in front of him as a line began to form.

  Chapter Three

  They settled in as the bus cruised down the exit ramp. The lights overhead dimmed as the other passengers reclined their seats back, situating themselves for the trip.

  Cara didn’t even know where the hell they were going. Was she sticking her head in the sand? Maybe the less she knew, the better, willing herself to relax. She was dying to read, but was afraid to bring out her book. Cara was itching to get back into Down and Dirty. Erin and Tim were sitting idle in her mind, almost to the point of getting naked, and down and dirty. Cara settled for a magazine that was tucked into the pocket of the seat in front of her.

  Resting the tattered magazine in her lap, Cara gazed out the window, leaning her head against the cool glass. Smokestacks pumped an ashy gray smoke up into the air, shrouding the dreary skyline of the city as it receded behind her. Goodbye, Pittsburgh.

  When would her mother notice she was gone? Cara tried to e
nvision Val and Lacy tomorrow morning, standing at the time clock waiting for her, their faces lined with worry. She wore the mask in front of them today, though it’d been hard. Cara felt remorseful, as if she’d lied to them, but there’d been no choice.

  What they were doing now, Mick had spoken of for so long. She’d never put his secret mission at risk, a mission they now shared. A ribbon of heat wrapped around her as Cara contemplated all the reasons he’d wanted to take her with him. There had to be more to it. He’d made her part of his plan for the future, Cara was just unsure of what her role would be once they reached their destination.

  Cara battled the anxiety that came with change. She felt safe with Mick, relieved, so why couldn’t she just relax and embrace their adventure? They’d been through so much together, all the pains and inadequacies of growing up.

  His warm breaths blew into her hair, his words quiet. “Here, you hungry?”

  Cara looked into his eyes, their faces nose to nose. Mick smiled faintly. Thin lines crinkled around his eyes, pulling her gaze down to his lips. Cara shifted in her seat. Mick passed her an apple and what appeared to be a flattened cruller wrapped in Saran wrap.

  “Thanks,” she said, smiling. She felt warm, grabbing the collar of her coat and lowering the zipper.

  “I’d take that off. You don’t want to get overheated,” Mick told her.

  He assisted her with the sleeve. Mick draped the coat across his lap, and they ate in silence. Thoughts and questions bounced around in her head. Mick handed her a small bottle of water. Cara washed down the dry crumbs and faced him.

  “So … where are we going?” she whispered, not wanting anyone to overhear and think she was crazy.

  Mick’s dry laughter filled the pause between them in the small space of their seats.