Free Cut by Layla Harding Page A

keeps track of me all that much.”
    Ken took a moment to absorb what I’d said while he got up and walked over to the bookcase. He kept his back to me when he said, “I had a sister. She was four years younger than me.”
    Ken turned around, holding the photo of him and the girl. He handed it to me. “This is her when she was fourteen. I was getting ready to leave for boot camp. Her name was Rachel.”
    “She was beautiful.”
    “Yes, she was. This was the last time I saw her. While I was in Vietnam, Rachel was killed in a car accident.”
    “Oh, Ken, I’m so sorry.”
    He held up his hand. “Let me get through this. Before I shipped out, there was this guy coming around. Nick. A couple of years younger than me, couple of years older than Rachel. Our parents were hard workers, and my dad was a hard drinker. My mother did what she could, but she wasn’t a very strong woman. I did my best to take care of Rachel, but I needed to get out. My father wasn’t a good man, and he and I were coming to a head. One of us was going to get hurt and bad. He didn’t much bother with Rachel, but there was something about me that got under his skin. When I was old enough, I signed up for the Marines.
    “So back to Nick. He was a hood. If he hadn’t flunked out of school by then, he was well on his way. The first time he showed up to the house smelling like whiskey I let him know he wasn’t welcome around my sister. The second time I laid him out. I thought that was the end of it. After I left, I suppose he thought the way was clear. Rachel was lonely and sad. She started going around with him. He ran a stop sign one night and killed them both. I was somewhere I couldn’t be reached. I didn’t find out about it until months later. I missed her funeral.”
    “Ken, I didn’t know. I mean, I thought when I saw the picture... That first night when I came over, I thought maybe she was...”
    “The reason I told you all this, Persephone, is to let you know, I owe something to Rachel. I abandoned her when she needed me because I was selfish and wanted to get away. I will not do that again. So I have given this situation a lot of thought, and I think we need to come to a new arrangement.”
    My heart and stomach crawled into my throat, fighting for space. I couldn’t breathe. New arrangement? What did that mean? An “arrangement” like I had with my father? I knew it! Goddammit, I knew it was coming! How did I let myself actually believe that this time was different? They always wanted something in return. There was always a catch. Fuck it. Bring it on. You can have whatever you want, and I can have what I want. The strength to finally finish the job. I hate you.
    “Um, okay.” I tried to keep my voice calm and even.
    “I think you should move in here.” I stared at him. He couldn’t have possibly said what I thought he did. What price tag was attached? What did he really want? I waited. “This is what I’ve come up with. I would like to hire you between now and when you leave for college. I would like you to be my in-home caregiver. Let me tell you what I expect, and then you can let me know what you think.”
    And here it was—what he expected. “Uh…okay. I mean, I don’t know what to say.”
    “I will expect you here every night by five. You will have from two in the afternoon on Saturdays until two on Sundays off. I will need you to do some cooking, some cleaning, reading obviously, grocery shopping, that kind of thing. I will provide room and board and pay you two hundred and fifty dollars a week. You have about fourteen weeks left before you leave for school. That will give you around $3,500. That should cover your books and some of your living expenses for the first year. Would you like the job?”
    There was no manipulation or intimidation. Ken was looking me in the eye, his face serious and sincere. Was this my chance? Was there really another way out? I swallowed my natural instinct to respond ‘Hell