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Chapter 2

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- - - - - - MARCH 15, 1929 - - - - - -

Cement City, Texas 9:30 p.m.

"ALRIGHT, IT'S OFFICIAL. I'm quittin'," Bonnie said, collapsing into the stool in front of the high-top counter.

"Your husband just got sent to the slammer and your Grams ain't gonna let you out of her sight for at least a year, Bonnie. You're not gonna quit."

Bonnie leaned forward, the cool metal sending a strange sizzle through the skin of her forearms. She knew Harvey was right. As soon as the news about her husband's arrest had spread, it was straight to Cement City for her. Bonnie would have much preferred New York or maybe Los Angeles, but it seemed she would never do any better than the poor suburbs.

"She's takin' all my money, you know that?" Bonnie said. "Every cent."

Harvey adjusted his apron and spun to fill two waiting mugs with coffee. He was a big man, so it had always shocked Bonnie that he chose to work at Marco's Café instead of somewhere that would benefit from his strength, like construction or maybe wrestling. Nevertheless, he was one of her only manageable colleagues at the dingy establishment. Not to mention the fact that he actually pretended to listen when Bonnie was in one of her moods.

"Here's what you gotta do," he said as he turned and set both of the steaming mugs on the counter. "Keep your tips under your bed or... in your panty drawer or somethin'. Somewhere she won't look. Eventually, you'll have enough to get out of here, right?"

That was the thing. Where would she go? She couldn't live with the rest of her family in Dallas. Her sister was newly married and Bonnie knew she couldn't handle the disappointment and pity her family would give her, especially after hearing the news of her husband's crimes.

"Oh sweetie, you must be devastated over what happened to Roy. You oughta find a man like Billie's—one who doesn't rob banks," her mother would say.

Bonnie could play the entire scenario out in her head, every damned sentence. At least her Grams only spoke to her when she needed cash. Maybe she wouldn't notice if a few bucks went missing here and there.

"That's a good idea, Harv," Bonnie replied.

"I'm full of good ideas. In fact, here's another one. Why don't you take that dumb thing off?"

Bonnie glanced up at Harvey, confused. "What thing?"

Her colleague raised his eyebrows and cast a glance down at her hands. Bonnie instantly understood. Ever since Roy had been put behind bars, Bonnie hadn't a clue what to do with his things. More specifically, the diamond sitting on her finger that she couldn't stop messing around with for some reason. She splayed both hands on the table, putting a temporary halt to her fidgeting.

"Oh," was all Bonnie could say. "That."

Roy had robbed a bank. He was looking at five years behind bars and their marriage was nothing short of tumultuous. She should have been disappointed in him—sad, even. Yet somehow all she could feel for him was anger. What she wanted was a heart-wrenching, cinema-worthy love story. Instead, she'd gotten a charmer who couldn't keep a promise. The truth was: the thought of getting rid of the ring made her sick, but not because of Roy. They were still married, technically, but that's not what the ring meant to Bonnie. It was the only thing of value she still owned, some façade of luxury she could convey to people as long as they didn't ask for details.

"You still love him even after what he did, don't you?" Harvey asked, likely in response to her sudden silence.

"Of course I don't. How could I? I'm here because of him." Bonnie's words were harsh; cutting, even. Harvey held his arms in surrender and finally lifted the coffee mugs he'd prepared, transferring them to a nearby table of waiting customers. She sighed and stood, straightening her apron. Bonnie could read a lot from that little gesture. Not only did she need to get back to work, but Harvey could see right through her lies.

The Hacker's Con Artistजहाँ कहानियाँ रहती हैं। अभी खोजें