“John. The bastard took out a loan against my car title, and now they’re threatening to come take it if I don’t pay the full amount within two weeks.”
Maggie stands and rips the letter out of my hand, and then she curses. “This can’t be legal. How did he get your title?”
I groan as I try to think, pulling the letter back from her hands. “I don’t know. I assumed it was still in some of my unpacked boxes in storage. My car title wasn’t high on the worry-about list. How can he do this to me? I’m still paying off his fucking credit cards.”
I could kill him right now. That bastard is determined to ruin my life.
Grabbing my keys, I head for the door.
“What are you going to do?”
I glance across the street, wishing I could use Rye to punch John right in the nose. He’d do so much more damage than I can. But I can’t do that. That’s not our relationship. And besides, this is a little humiliating. And knowing him, he’d pay the money without my knowledge.
My envelope with five-hundred dollars keeps magically appearing in my room no matter how many times I try to leave it in his house.
“If the police ask me for an alibi—”
“You were with me all night,” she says with a grin.
I won’t really kill him. Maybe.
***
BRIN
John curses from inside the apartment after I continue to bang on the door for a full five minutes. I can’t help but wonder who sent me that final notice, because it sure as hell wasn’t him.
How did he convince the pawn shop it was in his name? Because this was originally addressed to him.
The door swings open, and the asshole I once stupidly married is standing there with tight lips.
“Before you freak out, I’m just going to say I’m sorry,” he says, his dark hair in disarray and tossed around his head like he just woke up. Apparently he has knowledge that I got that final warning.
I barge into his small apartment, and he lets me through without protest. I don’t want his neighbors to witness his murder.
“That’s my car, John! You had no right. How did you even do it? The title was in my name.”
He frowns and then makes some unintelligible sound, telling me more with a grunt than he could have with words.
“You forged it and made it look like I signed the title over to you, didn’t you?” I bark, reading between the lines.
“I had no choice. The money went toward my new internet business. I was going to pay it back. It was just a thousand dollars to go with the other money I had scraped up.”
“Then why the hell do they want six-thousand in return?”
He curses as he drops to the worn sofa that sits off to the side. I look around, wondering where his shiny fiancée is.
“Because their interest rates are fucking ridiculous, and all the late fees—”
“I can’t get an apartment on my own because of the damn credit cards you got in my name—you’ve ruined my credit. All I can pay on them is the minimum. Twenty-thousand dollars you owe, and all I can pay is the minimum. That barely covers their interest rates. Now you’ve pawned the title on my car? You stupid, selfish son of a bitch!”
He jumps up from the sofa and glares at me. “I thought I had the right formula. The business was an internet launch, and I just needed a little funding. It crashed, though. I can’t help it.”
“It always crashes, John! Always! When will you just get it through your head that you’re not going to be rich? Just settle for the life you have and find a way to be happy. And quit ruining my life!”
I turn to leave. I don’t even know why I came here. I knew it was pointless. He’s broke, so he can’t pay to keep my car from getting swiped out from under me.
“Settle? Like you do? No thank you. I want to be happy.”