Chapter 20
Carl dropped Gina off first. She hopped out of the car with a grin. "Okay, bye, lover boy," she said with a playful wink before slamming the door shut.
Carl shook his head, a small smirk tugging at his lips, before pulling away. Valerie was next. She waved at him as she walked to her front door, and he gave a small wave back before driving off.
The streets ahead were quieter now, the orange glow of the setting sun fading into deep blue. He was wearing a plain white sweatshirt and a pair of blue trousers, his comfort clothes. At a stoplight, he reached over to the passenger seat, grabbed his black face cap, and pulled it low over his eyes.
A few minutes later, he parked on the side of a narrow street lined with small shops. The bakery's warm light spilled out through its windows. Sweet Haven. That was its name—a small place that always smelled like sugar and bread.
He pushed the door open. The bell above chimed, and a man behind the counter glanced up at him. It wasn't Theo.
"What do you want?" the man asked flatly.
Carl's eyes darted around the bakery, trying to look past the counter into the back. No sign of Theo.
"Man, are you buying or not? I ain't got all day," the guy said, irritation creeping into his voice.
"Uh… this one," Carl said, pointing at a strawberry cake behind the glass.
The man slid the cake into a small box, handed it over, and went back to wiping the counter. Carl paid for it and took a seat at one of the tables by the window.
He stayed there for hours. Customers came and went, the sky outside slowly turning from dusky blue to black. He kept glancing toward the door, hoping Theo would walk in, but it never happened.
Eventually, his head grew heavy. He dozed off, the smell of bread and sugar fading in and out of his senses, until a hand tapped his shoulder.
"You can't sleep here. We're closing," the same man said.
Carl blinked, sat up, and rubbed his eyes. "Right… sorry."
The man started to turn away, but Carl stood. "Hey—wait. Do you know a guy who works here? He goes by Theo."
The man gave him a sharp look. "What do you want from him?"
"Nothing. I just… wanted to talk to him," Carl said.
From the kitchen, another worker called for the man. "I'm coming!" he shouted back, then turned to Carl again. "He didn't come in today. But I can tell you where he lives."
"Sure," Carl said, stepping back—until the man suddenly held out his hand.
Carl frowned. "What?"
"You gotta pay for the information."
Carl blinked in surprise. "Oh… I don't have cash on me."
"Then transfer it," the man said casually, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.
Carl hesitated, then pulled out his phone and sent the money.
Only then did the man scribble an address on a napkin and hand it to him.
Ten minutes later, Carl was in his car, the napkin on the passenger seat beside the cake box. The GPS guided him toward Theo's street.
The night was cool, the city quiet, and with every turn he took, his chest tightened a little more.
---
Carl turned down the narrow street, the buildings crowding closer the farther he drove. The paint on most was faded, windows cracked or boarded. He rolled his window up, the quiet of the place somehow louder than noise.
He spotted the three-story building, its green paint peeling like old bark. Killing the engine, he sat for a second, wondering what he was even going to say if Theo was home. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. He almost put the car back in gear.
Shouts made him look up.
A group of men were hauling a woman and a young girl out of the building. The girl screamed, kicking wildly. The woman twisted, trying to hold on, but one of the men wrenched her back.
"Move on, lady owes us," someone yelled.
The girl bit the man's arm. He cursed and shoved her away before slapping the woman hard enough to send her to the ground.
Carl's chest burned. The people watching from doorways did nothing.
Before he could think, he was moving.
He knelt beside the woman. "Hey—are you okay?"
A short, stocky man stepped forward. "Who the hell are you?"
The girl scrambled to her mother's side, sobbing.
"You make me look like the bad guy, Elena," the man said, voice dripping false pity. "Your husband died leaving me with his debt, and I still gave you a place to stay. Thinking you would pay his debt all together. But you? You just keep owing more." His gaze flicked over Carl. "And where's that useless son of yours?"
Carl straightened. "How much?"
The man squinted. "What?"
"How much to clear it?"
One of the bigger men stepped forward. "Kid, you'd better—"
"Just answer," Carl cut in, sharper than he meant to.
The short man studied him, then smirked. "A thousand."
Carl pulled out his phone, thumbs already moving. "Name and number."
The man rattled them off, watching like a hawk until his own phone buzzed. His smirk widened. "Pleasure doing business, boy. Elena, I'm sure you understand—just business."
They left without another word.
Inside, the apartment smelled faintly of damp and something stale. The furniture was old, the floor scattered with things knocked over.
"Thank you," Elena said, steadying herself against the wall.
Carl shook his head. "It's fine." His gaze drifted to the little girl hiding behind her mother. He gave her a small smile before the front door slammed open.
"Theo!" Elena's relief was clear.
Theo scanned the room, then his sister ran into his arms. He held her tight, kissed the top of her head, and looked to his mother. "What happened?"
"It's fine now. Thanks to him," she said, nodding at Carl. "He helped with Harley. Cleared the debt."
Theo's eyes landed on Carl. No smile. No thanks. Just something hard and unreadable. He set his sister down, stepped across the room, and took Carl by the arm.
"Outside," he said flatly.
"Theo—" Elena began, but he didn't look back.
---
Theo dragged Carl out of the building and let go of his arm. His back was turned, shoulders stiff.
"I—" Carl started, but Theo spun around.
"Give me your number."
Carl blinked. "What?"
"I'll message you when I have the money. I'm paying you back," Theo said, his voice flat.
"You don't have to—" Carl began, but Theo cut him off.
"Don't tell me what I have to do. Just because you're rich doesn't mean you get to swoop in and play hero. A thousand might be pocket change to you, but it's not to me. So, your number. Now."
Carl hesitated, then unlocked his phone and handed it over. Theo quickly tapped in his own number and called himself so he'd have Carl's contact too.
"There. I'll be in touch."
Carl's grip tightened around his phone. "I wasn't trying to look down on you. I didn't even know they were your family. I just wanted to help."
Theo's eyes flickered, but he didn't respond. He turned and walked back into the building, leaving Carl staring after him, the faint vibration of a missed call from Theo still in his hand.