It Started with a Crack by Piper James

Chapter Three

Dakota

“Cheers, bitches!”

I tapped my glass against Ember’s, and some of the beer sloshed over the side to coat my fingers. Ignoring it, I clinked glasses with Sage and Belle, who was voted in as designated driver tonight since she was drinking sparkling water.

“Ugh, needs whiskey and lemon,” Belle complained after taking a sip from her glass.

“Suck it up, buttercup,” Ember said, throwing an arm across Belle’s shoulders and squeezing. “You chose this, after all.”

Ember’s free hand rubbed across Belle’s adorably rounded baby bump, the reason she couldn’t enjoy her usual whiskey sour. Belle was already five months along, and we were out celebrating her big news—her latest ultrasound revealed that she was having a boy.

“Have you and Ryder talked about names yet?” Sage asked, taking a sip of her fruity cocktail.

“Yes,” Belle answered, her lips turning down at the corners. “He’s pushing for Ryder, Junior.”

“R.J.—that could be cute,” I said.

“I didn’t think of it like that,” Belle said, her expression evening out. “All I could imagine was yelling “Ryder” and having both of them answer for the next eighteen or so years. Or calling the baby Ry for short, like he was a loaf of bread, or something. R.J. is kind of cute, though, don’t you think?”

“Definitely,” I said, nodding, and the others followed suit.

“How could you not think of it, though?” Ember asked. “Marshall calls his kid M.J., for short.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she yelped. Ember bent over to rub her shin as her eyes shot daggers at Sage…who obviously just kicked her under the table. That had been happening a lot lately, because Ember had zero fucking filter and said whatever popped into her head—even to a hormonal, moody, pregnant woman whose memory was shot and couldn’t be expected to remember something as trivial as her baby nephew’s name.

Belle laughed at them as she shook her head. “She’s right. I can’t believe I didn’t immediately think of the initials. Gah, this pregnancy brain has me so foggy. I’m surprised I get anything done at the foundation these days.”

Her mention of the foundation reminded me of my own situation, the very thing I was hoping to forget tonight with the help of my friends and several drinks…drinks I really couldn’t afford. Belle’s company helped provide housing and home repairs to people in need, a category in which I was quickly finding myself firmly entrenched.

I got here a few minutes early to talk to the owner, and though she was sympathetic to my plight, she’d already filled my position and didn’t have room for another bartender or even a waitress. With that door firmly closed, I was going to have to apply at Bull’s Eye or the burger joint.

“Hey Dakota, what’s up?” Sage asked, and the sound of my name jerked me out of my thoughts.

“What? Nothing,” I said, pasting a smile to my face.

“Oh, God, that’s terrifying. Stop,” Ember said, flinching away from me.

I balled up a napkin and tossed it at her face, but she swatted it away before it made contact. Sage and Belle were staring at me expectantly, and my shoulders slouched as I sighed.

“I’m broke,” I admitted. “I haven’t sold a house in weeks, I haven’t gotten a single nibble on the ranch, and my rent was due today.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Sage asked, her voice soft and consoling.

“What can I do to help?” Belle added before I could answer.

I knew what she was asking. Belle had inherited billions when her trust fund matured. It would be nothing to her to lend me enough money to get me through to my next commission check. But that was not going to happen. Money ruined relationships, and my friendship with these ladies was too important to risk.

I shook my head. “I’ll be alright.”

“You could come stay with me. I’m sure Chase and Daniel wouldn’t mind,” Sage offered.

“No, thanks,” I said, mustering up a semi-believable laugh. “I might be traumatized if I hear any spanking going on through the walls.”

Sage’s face turned pink as Belle and Ember laughed at my joke. She got drunk a few weeks ago and admitted to us that Chase was different in the bedroom, more dominating, and she loved it. Especially the spanking.

“Low blow, Dakota,” she growled, but her lips curved upward.

“I’d offer, but my apartment doesn’t even have one bedroom, much less two,” Ember said, changing the subject back to me.

Ember lived in a loft near downtown, upstairs from her boutique, Glowing Embers. She loved it because all she had to do was walk down a flight of stairs to go to work. It was also a pigpen, with clothes draped over every available surface and an ever-present pile of dirty dishes in her sink.

“It’s okay,” I replied. “Like I said, I’ll figure it out.”

“Dakota, stop being stubborn. This is literally what I do. Let me help you find a place,” Belle said, narrowing her blue gaze at me.

“It doesn’t matter what you find,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “I won’t be able to afford it right now.”

“Then let me give you some money,” she countered.

“No,” I shot back with a slash of my hand.

She backed down, giving me a sympathetic look. Like she understood why I had to say no.

Sometimes, it was hard, being part of this quickly expanding family of friends. Belle was rich as hell, Sage had a solid job as a teacher, and Ember owned her own successful business. Add in the Perry brothers, who were each worth millions, themselves, and I was the only failure in the group.

No. Stop it, Dakota. You’re not a failure. This is just a bump in the road.

Thankfully, the girls let it go after that, moving on to other topics. I only had a few drinks, knowing I needed to save my pitiful checking account for more important things—like more ramen.

Belle paid the check before I could stop her, and when I opened my mouth to protest, she asked me if I really wanted to throw hands with a pregnant woman. We all laughed, but on the inside, I was crying. I didn’t want to be a charity case. I wanted to be on equal footing with my friends.

When I got home, the building manager, Damian, was waiting outside my door. The name was fitting—he really was the fucking antichrist.

“Hey there, Dakota,” he said, his voice slithering over my skin and making me shudder.

“Damian,” I said, giving him a withering look. “You’re in my way.”

“I didn’t get your rent today,” he said, his milky eyes roving over my body as his slimy tongue darted out to wet his lips.

“I’m going to pay,” I said, my voice firm despite my trepidation, “but can we please talk about this tomorrow? It’s late.”

I glanced down at my phone. It was after midnight. How long had he been waiting here for me? I suddenly felt nervous, standing in this deserted hallway with the son of Satan, whose breath was coming in revolting little pants as he stared at my breasts.

And he was still blocking my door.

“I’m going to have to evict you, Dakota,” he said, his eyes finally leaving my chest to meet mine. “This is the third month in a row you’ve been late.”

“Please, Damian,” I said, hating myself for the pleading note in my voice. “I just need a little more time.”

His eyes widened with what could only be described as victory, and my blood ran cold.

“I’m sure we could work something out,” he said before sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth and biting down. “Maybe beg me like you just did, but from your knees this time.”

“What?” I asked, his suggestion sending shockwaves through me.

Sure, he was a sleazeball, but he’d never overtly propositioned me like this before. He’d always used innuendo while staring at me with those creepy, bloodshot, pale eyes. I never thought in a million years the little slime would have the balls to try something like this.

“You heard me. Get on your knees and beg, and I’ll consider giving you another week to get me the money you owe,” he said, and much to my revulsion, he reached down and cupped his junk, giving it a squeeze.

“Oh, fuck no,” I shouted.

My hands landed on his shoulders as I lifted my knee as forcefully as I could. Damian howled as my kneecap connected with his family jewels, then dropped to the ground. Rolling from side to side, he screamed obscenities as I stepped over him to unlock my apartment.

The door across the hall swung open, and I turned to see Mrs. Hannigan poking her gray head through the opening. Her eyes darted from Damian’s squealing form on the floor to me, and she shot me a wink.

“Good for you, honey,” she stage-whispered, though I doubted Damian could hear her over all the noise he was making.

I shooed her back into her apartment with a smile, knowing the asshole would be a dick to her for weeks if he saw her commending me for hurting him. With one last kick to his ribs, I stepped over him and went into my apartment, making sure to throw the latch-lock behind me so the douchebag out there couldn’t use his master key to come in here for some kind of revenge.

Taking a few deep breaths, I looked around the living room. Threadbare, secondhand furniture crowded into a too-small space, a small bookshelf filled with romance novels, and mismatched lamps. It wasn’t much, but it was mine.

But after what just happened, I knew my time was up. I was going to be evicted immediately, and I had nowhere to go. Nowhere to put this well-worn furniture I’d accrued over the last ten years.

“Shit.”

I was well and truly fucked, and I had no idea what I was going to do.