She thought it would be easy to fall back into her life before Quentin. She'd always known their arrangement wasn't permanent. She'd never let him get too close in the first place for that very reason. Despite those efforts, he'd managed to worm his way into her routine. She'd never been able to go out on the weekends - anything worth doing cost an exorbitant amount. Sometimes Marco would invite her over, or she'd invite him over, and they'd drink shitty beer and watch shitty movies. Sometimes she would go for a long walk on the pier, find a spot with little enough light that she could almost see the stars. Someday, she would go out to one of those dark sky parks in the middle of nowhere and look directly at the milky way galaxy. Someday.
But the pier was closed and Marco was working, so she had nothing to do. If her friend Danielle was in town, she could have hung out with her, but Danielle travelled for work and was currently six hundred miles away. It was the natural result of the type of life Em lived that she only knew, like, three people. Four if she counted Quentin. Which she didn't. Anymore.
Em understood how people fell to this kind of temptation. It was pitch black outside and she was alone, with legitimately nothing to do. For the past eight months on nights like these she'd been able to summon a hot man to her doorstep with very little effort and get fucked like she'd never been fucked before. It was fun, and it was interesting, and it was really, really, really good. There was a different Em, who'd lived a different life, who would have texted him. Who would have taken the bait, pulled the ripcord, whatever you wanted to call it. Do the sort of thing that pretty girls on instagram would talk about. But Em wasn't a pretty girl. She was a broke former street rat with no family and no prospects. She'd gotten insanely lucky when she'd gotten the job at Novatech. If she was being honest, she was lucky that Quentin ever looked at her in the first place. She was lucky to have gotten the time with him that she'd had already. Maybe in a decade or so she'd be able to brag about this to somebody. She'd see him on the news with his trophy wife and she'd turn and say 'I used to sleep with him' to… somebody.
It didn't matter. Em couldn't throw her life away for a man. She just couldn't. She didn't have room to make mistakes, and she definitely couldn't put her job at risk.
So she spent her Friday night alone, laying in bed rewatching some of her old favorite shows. Somehow she managed to munch through the entire bag of chocolate covered pretzels AJ had gotten her. She'd never really told him about the debt, but he's seen how frugal she was. At some point, he'd started bringing her the near-expiry snacks from the convenience store his father owned. He liked salty snacks and sour candies, but didn't like chocolate, so she ended up with a lot of that. He'd spared her from a lot of hungry nights that way. If she told him that, he would start bringing her even more, try to help more, possibly at his own expense. He was that kind of person. Someday, though, she would find a way to thank him for this. Not just for the satiation, but for the sweetness that came with it. It softened the sting of the choices she'd had to make.
It was around ten pm, when she'd usually start getting ready for bed, that there was a knock on the door. Marco was still working, and Danielle was out of town. The only other person who knew her address… Em decided right then that if it was Quentin Blake at her door, she would put off her resolve for one more night. It couldn't be that bad, to be with him one last time, especially if he had come all the way here. She rolled out of bed and stumbled to the door, ignoring the stinging pain of her foot waking back up. She probably looked insane, but Quentin had seen her worse and he'd fucked her anyway. She swung the door open.
And that was her first mistake.
The man outside was wearing a suit. Em must have been spoiled by her recent choice of company because despite the suit, the man was ugly. He was half a head taller than her and big, almost twice her width. His face was squished, like the human version of a bulldog, and it was even more contorted by the sneer he wore.
"Hello there, Emilia." The man put his hands in his pockets. "It is very nice to meet you."
"Who are you?" Em took a step back.
"I am a representative of the organization that is currently responsible for collecting payments on the… significant amount of money you owe."
"You're from… Acute Healthcare? You can't just show up at my house like this. It's the middle of the night." She ran through her apartment in her mind, trying to think of anything that could be used to defend herself.
"Oh, no, no. Unfortunately, due to how long your account has been open, Acute Healthcare put your case up for sale, and my company acquired it."
"I didn't consent to that." Em said. The man looked at her as if she was genuinely stupid.
"Why on earth would we need your consent?"
"Why are you here?" She asked. With no good options in sight, she clenched her fists and prayed.
"Oh, no, Emilia. We're not here to hurt you. We don't like to hurt people. We only do it if we have to. No, I'm here to follow through on a company policy. Upon every acquisition, the company requires a premium to be paid, as a show of good faith from the debtor. That's the only reason we're here. To collect."
"I don't have any money." Her head started to spin. This couldn't be happening. She finally had a real job. She had a plan. They couldn't just… They couldn't just do this to her. "Really. I don't keep anything in my apartment."
"That seems very wise of you. But don't worry. If you're unable to make a cash payment, we can also collect items of similar worth. My colleagues will look through your assets and locate something of adequate value." He stepped inside, and behind him two men even larger than him appeared. Em stumbled backwards, barely managing to stay upright. As the third man came in he bumped into her hard, pushing her against the wall. It took a moment for her to regain her bearings, and when she finally did, her knees went weak. The men were rifling through her belongings, throwing things on the floor. Occasionally they would find something and either stuff it in their projects or throw it to the bulldog man, who would either put it in his pocket or toss it over his shoulder. Em could barely process what was happening. It was too much for her to understand. She finally came back to herself when one of the men knocked over her table, shattering her only proper bowl.
"You can't do this!" She steeled her nerves.
"Can't I?" He said.
"I…" She didn't get another word out before he was right next to her, looming over her, blocking her exits.
"What exactly are you going to do, Emilia?" He asked. She realized with absolute certainty in that moment that if she tried anything, she would lose her life. Despite her pride, despite her attitude, despite all her audacity, she was just as weak as she had ever been. She wasn't ready to die. Not here. Not like this.
So she let herself fall to the floor and sat there while they ransacked her apartment. She sat there while the man said something else, laughed at her, and left, his goons following him out. They slammed the door shut behind them.
She didn't know how long she sat there, staring at the wall. It was late. It had been late when they came and she'd been sitting there for some time now. She would stand up, just as soon as her head stopped spinning. As soon as she could feel her legs again. She had to figure this out. She had to look at her paychecks again, rethink her budget, see where she could cut costs. She had to make this work. She didn't even know what they took, or how much it would affect her existing debt. They could value what they had taken however they wanted and she could do nothing about it.
Unlike the other night, she didn't cry. She just sat there, letting her body get sore and achy and she would fall over if she didn't get up. She checked her phone to see that it was almost 2:30 in the morning. At least she didn't have anything to do tomorrow. For now. She could see if the convenience store would take her back on the weekends. If she worked ten hours both days, that would bring in an extra $200 every week. She tried to think it through while she cleaned up her ruined apartment. The new interest rate meant that she would have to make significantly larger payments if she ever wanted to get rid of the debt. Eight hundred dollars a month would help a lot, but she'd have no days off. She also wouldn't have time to meal prep on Sunday, so her lunch costs would go up. She could start taking instant ramen to work every day, but she'd stand out like a sore thumb in the bougie Novatech breakroom. At this point, though, did she really have the option to care? It didn't matter if Tiffany said she was a charity case or low class. It didn't matter what any of those assholes thought about her. She just needed to do her job the best she could, and make enough money to get herself out of this hole.
Somebody knocked on the door, hard. Em jumped back, staring at it. After a minute, whoever it was knocked again. Em stepped into the kitchen and grabbed a knife. This time, she wouldn't be caught unprepared. She held her hand behind her back and crept up to the door. Then she undid the deadlock and cracked the door open.
Quentin Blake was standing outside her door.