Free Declaration by Rachael Wade

that would cover everything. If this was a chance for me to stop taking my old man’s money, then I wasn’t passing it up.
    “Uh, look, Jackson, I don’t think I can do that. I’m sorry, but I do need the money. I know you’ve been in a bind, but I can’t turn those hours down if he’s gonna offer them to me.” Despite my certainty, the guilt kicked in as soon as the words left my mouth. It was because of Jackson that I even had this job.
    Jackson’s hopeful expression shifted into a scowl. “Carter, you don’t understand. I need those hours, too. I didn’t want to say anything…I mean, Ruben and Jeff know, but…the less people who know, the better.”
    “What is it?”
    “I wasn’t evicted. Not exactly.”
    “You weren’t?”
    “No. I chose to move out.”
    “You did? Why would you hide that?”
    “Because it’s…embarrassing. No one would believe I’m trying to get my shit together. They’d think it was a fucking joke. The truth is, I decided to try and save some money. I figured if I can live on the boat for a while and skip paying rent, I can funnel that money into savings. And I’ve been picking up more hours at the club because I need to turn shit around. I need to get a place—like, a real place, somewhere I can settle down. I know there’s no chance for me and Emma, but I still have to try…have to try and prove to her I’m serious about cleaning up my act. I wanna try to buy us a house or some shit, I dunno.”
    “A house?” My eyes bugged from my head on their own accord, not because I didn’t think Jackson could do it—hell, I fucking admired his ambition—but because after what he pulled, sharing a house was probably the last thing on Emma’s mind at the moment.
    “See?” Jackson sighed, waving his hand and letting it fall and smack his thigh. “That reaction right there is the reason I have been trying to keep this on the down low. Me trying to save money or do anything worthwhile with my life is laughable to everyone on this island.”
    “Whoa, wait a minute.” I shook my head. “It’s not to me. You’re misreading me, man. It’s just that Emma’s still pretty upset. I don’t know if making house-buying plans will help you right now, that’s all. But that’s your business. I’m sorry.”
    “I’m still going to try. I have to do this, whether she ever becomes mine or not. Hurting her…the way I fucked things up, God, it made me realize how much I need to fucking wake up, man. I need to wake up . But I need to make that money, and I can’t work full time at the club.”
    “You can’t?”
    “Hell no, are you crazy? It’s hard enough keeping Ruben and Jeff from running their mouths about it all over the island. If Emma knew I was working there? She’d never trust me again. Not that she trusts me now. And if I were working there full time? Are you kidding me?”
    “She doesn’t know you’ve been working at the club?”
    “No, and I want to keep it that way. In case you haven’t heard, dude, most daddies around here lock up their daughters and wives when I’m within a mile radius. Between that and my royal screw up with Casey, the last thing I need for Emma to know is that I work around tits and ass all day. It will undoubtedly be the final nail in my impression’s coffin, and it’ll make her the talk of the town on top of it, if she were to decide to be with me. I can’t drag her into that. She doesn’t deserve that shit.” He started to pace. It was making me nervous, and it was also tugging at my heartstrings because once again, I felt sorry for the dude. But I couldn’t budge on this.
    Not this.
    “I know you got me this job, man. I know I owe all of this,” I gestured to my flat, “to you, and I’ll never be able to thank you enough. Seriously. But I need the work just as much as you do. I can’t keep taking money from my old man. I’ve been looking for a second job, but no luck, not with anything that will work around the hours I have