Blowing smoke through my chapped lips, I glanced up at the guys. It was too cold, but the fellas insisted it was the right night. One more job, and then I’d have enough money to buy a one-way ticket out of Albuquerque—putting an end to my torturous existence.
I planned to go to Puerto Rico and find my mother’s family. They didn’t care about my life choices. Before she died, Mom said my aunts, uncles, and cousins would love me without expectations or conditions. I needed that like a drowning man needed oxygen. After a decade of ridicule and strife, I was ready for an upgrade. Anything had to be better than how I lived. Well, almost anything.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish