Thousands by Pepper Winters

Thousands by Pepper Winters

Author:Pepper Winters [Winters, Pepper]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pepper Winters
Published: 2017-08-15T07:00:00+00:00


Chapter Twenty-One

______________________________

Elder

* Ten Years Ago *

LIFE HADN’T ALWAYS been this way for me.

I hadn’t always been respected for my wealth or shunned because of my unsavoury background. That was entirely new.

Three weeks to be exact.

Twenty-one days ago, I was invisible. I got by with pickpocketing the rich who now knocked on my fucking door to be friends. My fingers that’d been taught to be nimble at snatching a wallet after being a maestro with a cello were now imprisoned with more money than I could ever spend.

What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?

And why did people care what existed in my damn bank account when deciding if I was a good or bad?

I was bad.

Through and through.

I’d stolen this life, not earned it. It wasn’t luck or karma or any other happy circumstances. Only Selix knew the truth, and the truth ate me up inside until I was riddled with more holes than I could bear.

I already had far too much guilt to carry. This? It just added another world of hurt.

I’d wanted to give it back.

All of it…every penny.

But that was before Selix took thievery and twisted it into a more acceptable concept.

A loan. A helping hand. Borrowing from someone to fix my past, absolve my sins, and ensure my family was never in danger again because of me.

So here I fucking was.

Swallowing my shame, going by a new name, and doing my best to keep the truth locked deep down tight and lie to everyone. I lied to the station producer. I lied to the news anchor. I lied to every useless person watching this program.

It was a goddamn shit-show. And I was angry. So damn angry.

These ingrates wanted to know me. They pretended to like me so they might stand a chance at stealing what was now mine. But they would never know me. I would never let them get close to knowing me. My value of the human race had been low before this had started. Now it was in the fucking gutter.

“Mr. Prest.”

I pulled at the collar of my shirt, hating the tight confines of expensive blazers and ties. Before, I’d lived in hoodies and jeans—things I could move fast in, run quick in, and vanish into crowds without being caught.

Now, I was adorned in appropriate rich-man’s wardrobe, and it suffocated me.

These people wanted to know me? Well, tough shit. I’d never tell them about my days on the streets, the worry of not being able to afford healthcare for myself or my mother, and the god-awful truth that I was the reason we were homeless.

Not that those circumstances had mattered when I’d stolen the one thing that’d changed my life faster than a fairy fucking godmother and ensured I’d never be alone again if I didn’t want to be. I could buy affection, bribe friends, and pay for anything I wanted.

I had money, and people loved money even if you were a liar, a cheater, and a con-artist.

Turned out, the only thing it couldn’t buy was family.



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