He Let Me Die for $5000

I'm dead.

Died that rainy night, desperate because I couldn't scrape together five thousand dollars to save my dog.

Liam laughed at me over the phone—my childhood friend told me to quit the sob story. His new girlfriend Sarah said I should get on my knees and beg if I wanted her to toss me some scraps. They had no idea every dollar I owed those loan sharks was to cover up Liam's hit-and-run.

My dog died. So I jumped into Black Lake.

It wasn't until they pulled my body from the water that Liam found the surveillance footage in that tin box and realized what a massive mistake he'd made. Then he snapped, dragging Sarah and everyone else who killed me down into the depths, one by one.

Too bad it was already too late.

Skye's POV

My dog was dying.

"Beep... beep... beep..."

The busy tone cut through my nerves like a dull saw. I stood in the harsh fluorescent hallway, completely drenched.

Three hours ago, I'd dragged myself home from my night shift, pushed open the door, and found Buddy collapsed on the floor with his belly swollen like a balloon. I panicked, scooped him up, and raced to this 24-hour emergency vet clinic.

Rainwater dripped from my cheap jacket onto the sterile tiles. I was shivering, but I couldn't care less about the cold.

Buddy was dying in there, and I didn't have a damn cent to save him. He couldn't die. Besides him, nobody in this world actually gave a shit about me.

The air reeked of disinfectant mixed with animal waste and blood.

Through the glass door, I watched Buddy lying on the cold metal table. His abdomen was distended, his breathing rapid and shallow.

Acute gastric torsion. The vet said without immediate surgery, he wouldn't survive the night.

Surgery cost: five thousand dollars.

My bank account balance: a pathetic thirty-two fifty.

I could barely get my fingers to work as I hit redial. The screen showed "Liam."

Seventh call.

Finally, one second before it went to voicemail, he picked up.

"What."

The background exploded with bass-heavy music, clinking glasses, and drunk laughter. West Side fraternity party night.

"Liam..." I could barely get the words out. "It's me, Skye."

Silence for one second.

Then a contemptuous snort.

"Skye, are you out of your fucking mind?" His annoyed voice crackled through the speaker. "It's one AM and I'm partying. This better be someone dying."

"Buddy's dying." I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood. "Gastric torsion. The vet says he needs surgery NOW. Please, lend me five thousand. I swear I'll pay you back. I can work three jobs—"

"STOP."

Liam cut me off cold.

"Five grand? What do I look like, a fucking bank?" His voice dripped mockery. "Last month you needed two grand for tuition. Month before that, fifteen hundred for rent. Now five thousand? Buddy's sick? You're like a broken record with this shit."

"This time it's REAL!" Tears spilled down my cheeks, my voice breaking into a whimper. "He's actually dying! Please, Liam, YOU gave Buddy to me! Don't you remember him? He's really dying, please, for old times' sake—"

"Old times' sake?" Liam laughed bitterly. "You've got balls bringing that up. Ever since you started running with those lowlifes, you turned into a lying psycho. Rock's guys were hunting you on campus just last week!"

My heart stopped.

Rock. Campus loan shark kingpin.

Liam had NO idea I'd borrowed from Rock not for myself, but to buy off the surveillance footage from his drunk driving hit-and-run six months ago!

If that footage ever surfaced, this Ivy League golden boy would be ruined, maybe even imprisoned.

I'd taken all the heat for him. Been hounded by loan sharks every month like a rabid dog. And in his eyes, I was just some greedy junkie.

"It's not what you think..." I tried to explain, my throat feeling stuffed with cotton.

"Save it. Stop the act." Liam's voice turned ice-cold. "I'm not giving you one cent. You're really that desperate? Try walking the streets. Maybe some guy will pay for that face."

The words hit me like a slap across the face.

I froze. All the blood seemed to drain from my body.

That's when I heard a woman's voice in the background.

"Liam, who is it?"

Sarah.

"Some beggar," Liam said flatly.

"Skye, right?" Sarah's laugh was like broken glass as she grabbed the phone. "Oh my GOD, you're pathetic! Calling my boyfriend at one AM? Five grand? Crawl on your hands and knees, maybe I'll throw you some change."

"Give the phone back to Liam—" I practically screamed.

"Click."

She hung up on me.

I stared at the black screen. The only sound was the monotonous hum of the ventilation system down the hall.

My phone buzzed. Text message.

Sender: Rock.

"Skye. 8K by midnight or your nudes go viral. Or come see me tonight. Work off the debt with your body. You know what I mean."

I slid down the cold wall until I collapsed on the floor.