“Fucker,” I muttered. “Miss Kyrie busted your balls about college applications yet?”
“We both know Darling Hill Community College is about as good as it gets for me. If I even bother.”
“You could get help for her. See about—”
“No fucking way, Nix. She as good as raised me. I owe her everything.”
It was true. Zane’s grandma had raised him after his mom had died when he was just a kid, and his waste of space sperm donor hadn’t cared enough to stick around. Mrs. Washington had always been a force to be reckoned with until the MS set in and began to ravage her body. On the days she needed it, Zane cared for her at home since their medical insurance didn’t stretch to long stays in hospital. But it was hard on him, on them both.
“Yeah, Z. I know, I know…” I raked a hand down my face, blowing out a long breath. We were two guys stuck in impossible situations. He couldn’t leave his gran, and I couldn’t leave Jessa. People depended on us. People’s lives depended on us. How the fuck were we supposed to chase our own dreams and protect the people we cared about?
The answer was… we couldn’t.
The Row owned us.
Whether we liked it or not, The Row was our home. Our burden.
It was our motherfucking prison.
And there wasn’t a damn thing we could do about it.